The Big Untidy Magazine

THE MEMORY LINGERS ON

It was 1963
The Beatles had their first hit
And the Stones had just started  rolling,
Your uncles and aunts
Wore cumbersome hearing aids
With boxes that sat on their laps
Liberation came with a two channel television set.

When Screaming Lord Sutch got into trouble
For going on stage with a toilet seat on his head
A few years earlier
There had  been complaints
About Cliffs long sideburns.
Where does a young lad go to find his music.

Radio Luxemburg in the bedroom at night
Riding over the wavebands
The songs faded in and out of view
Alan Freeman
“Greetings pop pickers”
BBC light programme
Sunday afternoon.

A bit more eccentric
Than his more conservative colleges
Though I did like Brian Mathews
Saturday Club, Top Gear,
BBC light programme.

Every so often something inspirational
Came out of the speaker
Telstar by the Tornadoes
Joe Meeks troubled genius
Though I was unaware of that at the time
But I got carried away on his space adventure.
Hank Marvin’s tremolo guitar
The Shadows rock on,
Johnny Kidd And The Pirates
Were Shaking All Over.

Roy Orbison sang for the lonely
Dark glasses hid his tears,
Chuck Berry had No Particular Place To Go
Just cruising and playing the radio.
Dell Shannon kept searching for his Runaway
Driving through the pouring rain.

Then one Sunday afternoon in 1963
Ray Charles came out of the speaker
His voice touched me right there
The Raeletts n backing vocals
A heavenly choir.

Take these chains from my heart
And set me free
An old country song that he made his own.

Then I heard I Can’t Stop Loving You,
Georgia On My Mind,
Night Time Is The Right Time,
I’ve Got A Woman,
What I Say,
Hit The Road Jack.
And don’t you come back no more.

In the 1970s reggae artist Big Youth
Did an interesting version of Hit the Road Jack
A different kind of music
But let’s break barriers down.

I am not knowledgeable enough to write a tribute
But I remember that Sunday afternoon in 1963
When I was listening to Pick Of The Pops
And Ray Charles came out of the speaker.
The memory lingers still.

Frank Bangay