Most nights, I find it excruciating to turn my brain off and sink down into my covers for a peaceful nights sleep. I feel the only thing which helps me finally drift off is the soothing voice of Kirsty Young and Sue Lawley, my favourite Desert Island Discs presenters.
Maybe this is very middle aged of me, but I don't care. These podcasts have been my saviour since second year of university. During a time of stress and misery, switching off and listening to stories from the lives of other people, was a much welcomed temporary distraction from the story of my own life at that time.
If you haven't listened to these podcasts before, (I beg you do, there's an episode for everyone), I'll give a quick explanation.
For over 70 years, BBC Radio Four have invited well accomplished guests, (writers, actors, musicians, historians), to share eight tracks that they would take with them if they were to be cast away to a desert island. The stories behind the guest's choosing of these tracks is explained alongside the interview. It's essentially an intrusive interview into the life of the guest, with a musical twist. After the interview, the guest is given the Bible and the complete works of Shakespeare, alongside a book of their choice and a luxury item.
Honestly, these podcasts give me a weird feeling of safety, especially during a time where I felt very uneasy and unsafe in my second year uni house. (That's another story.)
I always find it very difficult to think of the eight songs that I would take with me for my survival on a desert island. I've often thought this to be an impossible task. Music is one of my favourite things to explore and enjoy, and I've found that different songs tend to shape different times of my life.
I don't know what I would be famous for, I guess hopefully journalism, but after much painful back and forth, Iv'e decided on four of the eight tracks that I would have on my own episode of Desert Island Discs. it isn't quite eight, but its a start.
Im On Fire - Bruce Springsteen
This is one of the songs that no matter what, I don't think I could live without. It breaks my heart every time I listen to it, and always leaves me wishing it were that little bit longer. I guess I enjoy suffering.
Brown Eyed Girl - Van Morrison
When I was younger, my dad always told me that this song was written about me. I think I took this a little too literally when I went around primary school the next day telling my friends that yes, the rumours were true, my dad had in fact written this song himself, for me in 1967. It will always remind me of my dad singing this with me on drives in the car, and dancing around the kitchen. How twee.
Put Your Records On - Corinne Bailey Rae
Much like Brown Eyed Girl reminding me of time spent with my dad, this song reminds me of times spent with my mum. It always reminds us of one another, and I think it is one of the first songs we enjoyed together when I was younger.
Common People - Pulp
I feel as though this is a bit of a cliche song to put on this list. This song reminds me of me and my brother screaming the lyrics, as he plays guitar. It also reminds me of the hope that I felt during the run up to the 2019 General Election. I think this song captures working class pride and the frustration at a system which is overbearing most of the time.
I sort of have a rough idea about the rest of the track list which would keep me company on my desert island. There's so much music which hasn't been made yet, and songs that I haven't listened to. I wonder what my list will look like in five years time.
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