Bovey Traces

  When I was cataloguing my CD collection during the COVID lockdown, I came across several that my parents had bought. One that I found in the “various artists” section, Sixties Mix Two , reminded me of a late ‘80s musical trend that is little celebrated now – digital megamixes of rock-and-roll-era tracks, which peaked (or reached a nadir) with a short-lived phenomenon involving a cartoon rabbit... The 1988 compilation  Sixties Mix Two boasts on the sleeve 60 “original recordings”, implying that this wasn’t something to be taken for granted. This was probably due to the glut of cheap '50s/'60s compilations at the time featuring re-recordings of the original tracks by the original artists, but it also points to the predecessors of these types of megamixes. The early '80s saw several disco-style medleys hit the charts. The most famous of these were the Stars On 45 releases by Star Sound (which launched a wave of pastiches by contemporary acts such as Squeeze, Captain Sensi...

This is an album review that I wrote for the Digital Fix website in 2012. Short-lived Brighton four-piece the Chefs emerged around the same time as fellow post-punk DIY-sters and indiepop touchstones the Television Personalities and Orange Juice. Led by the gastronomically named Helen McCookerybook, the Chefs released a few 45s, did a couple of Peel sessions and then split in 1982, not before renaming themselves Skat and recording a cover of the Velvet Underground and Nico’s ‘Femme Fatale’. Damaged Goods' comprehensive compilation collates most of the band’s recorded output, including all their singles, demos and radio sessions. On the likes of ‘Sweetie’ and ’24 Hours’, you can hear pre-echoes of the C86 movement, sharing much of its unambitious, shambling qualities, which ensured the band’s resolutely cult status. The Chefs may not come from kitchens of distinction then, but Records & Tea manages to rustle up a few tasty morsels.

The first album that I ever bought (or, more accurately, that my dad bought) was actually two albums, and they were both by Stevie Wonder – Talking Book and Hotter Than July . The latter was on cassette while the former was on the relatively new compact disc (CD) format. My dad and I bought them at Woolworths in Coventry city centre in 1988, and we’d actually only planned to buy one album (or, more accurately, one song – ‘Happy Birthday’, the last track on Hotter Than July ). Not knowing at the time that it was a plea by Wonder to commemorate  the life of Martin Luther King Jr with an official US holiday, I wanted the song to play it on my ninth birthday, ideally on CD, as my dad had recently bought a new CD player extension to his Pioneer hi-fi. However, this branch of Woolies only had the song on cassette, and somewhat bizarrely, the lady on the music counter also brought out Talking Book because it was on CD (as if to offer my dad and me a compromise between the song we wanted a...