What is there in the uselessness of this thread to cause you distress?

Compilation tape threads. There have been a few. There is no particular reason for or agenda behind the tape which I’m going to describe. It’s just a tape which I put together a year or so ago which resonated with my state of being at the time and still resonates now. If there is any vague concept behind it, I suppose you could look at it as a kind of erratic arc, starting in fairly depressed waters and gradually picking itself up in fits and starts, but with the underlying blackness still there. It’s not really autobiographical except in one instance – the closing track – it just goes well with a given mood. Despite the fact that it purposely ignores at least three cardinal rules of compilation tapes, I think it’s a good ‘un, and you might like to try it yourself.

Side A

1. Green Pajamas – Sandy About the only six minutes I wanted to keep out of everything ever recommended by Tom Cox. The album which this closes (“Strung Behind The Sun”) powerpops its way fairly unremarkably, but this nice Jobim-meets-Tindersticks finale will do as a less than rousing beginner (N.B.: there are three minutes or so of traffic noises segueing out of this piece, so have your fader ready).

2. Air – J’ai Dormi Sous L’Eau “I Have Slept Underwater”? Drowning or more maternal yearnings? Really you could follow this with the entire second side of AR Kane’s “69” if you wished, but I just think it’s sweet in a Lynch-directs-Alpert kind of way.

3. Low – Will The Night 4. Buffy Sainte-Marie – Goodnight Two farewell songs to finish you off. The first is a variant on the “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow” plotline, the second a variant on the “you’re 1000 miles away from me but think of me blah blah” thread. But they are desperately lonely-sounding. To me they just evoke the absolute trauma and desolation which I daily feel having to leave my loved one behind early in the morning and travel stupid distances just to earn a living.

5. Red House Painters – Katy Song The miserabilist Hey Jude?

6. Sam Phillips – Private Storm The ultimate one-album wonder from 1991. Better than almost anything by Throwing Muses. What does she do with herself these days?

7. Richard & Linda Thompson – The Great Valerio Because (a) Valerio’s my mum’s maiden name and I feel some empathy; and (b) together with Martin Carthy’s Peel session version of “Reynard the Fox” this is the apogee of Brit psychofolk. “I’m your friend until you use me/And then be sure I won’t be there.” Also for the fadeout, during which RT invents REM.

8. Nancy & Lee – Some Velvet Morning Another female/male duet about isolation and deceit but different and darkly humorous. Starting to look up.

9. Nancy & John Barry – You Only Live Twice (fuzz guitar version) Be like the Bushido warrior! Consider yourself already dead!!

Side B

1. Mercury Rev – Carwash Hair Still their finest hour. What I wish “Astral Weeks” had sounded like. Again, be poised at the fader otherwise you’ll segue on the CD single straight into 37 minutes of psychiatric counselling.

2. Sonic Subjunkies – Central Industrial II: The Lockdown 3. Ditto – Do You Even Know Who You Are? Wake-up call! Bucket of water! The first, one of the great singles of the ‘90s; the second still emphasising the doubt implant.

4. Sparks – This Town Ain’t Big Enough For Both Of Us Well it isn’t, is it?

5. Ozomalti – Eva Uncomplicated feelgood time. What Ricky Martin should sound like more of the time (but wasn’t “1, 2, 3 Maria” a fantastic pop single?).

6. Argan – Taissi Laman From the album “North Moroccan Motor Berber.” An indescribable mix of blues howl, banjo, HM guitar, big beat and underlying dumbek-ville. Laswell involved but don’t let that put you off.

7. Gang Starr – Jazz Thing (the original mix on the 2CD compilation, not the crap one on the “Mo’Better Blues” soundtrack) Saves you having to watch Ken Burns. Although I don’t actually mind it so far (we’re just about up to “West End Blues” in this part of the world). Topicality of song marred by subsequent passing of Betty Carter, named as proof that jazz ain’t on its deathbed.

8. Bob Sinclar – Gym Tonic A complete and unambiguous reaffirmation of the fabulous positivity of life. Also the song I was listening to on my Walkman at 12:25 pm on Saturday 24 October 1998 when I was knocked down and run over by a 52 bus in Knightsbridge.