The Soundtrack of Our Lives
A Double Album in Prose
by Annie Christie
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: None.
Description: For anyone who has ever got lost in music!
Swearwords: None.
Description: For anyone who has ever got lost in music!
Disc One
Side One
Lost in Music
We're lost in music
Caught in a trap
No turnin' back
We're lost in music (Sister Sledge)
Side One
Lost in Music
We're lost in music
Caught in a trap
No turnin' back
We're lost in music (Sister Sledge)
Track Two
‘Take away the memories… but yesterday’s an echo,
like the footsteps down the hall’ (Berni Flint)
~ Disco Fever 73-79 ~
‘Take away the memories… but yesterday’s an echo,
like the footsteps down the hall’ (Berni Flint)
~ Disco Fever 73-79 ~
We started at High school in 1973, the first intake when the school became a co-educational comprehensive. Like I said before, for our year it was okay – the boys were the same age as us and so there was no stigma of ‘baby-snatching’ attached to our pitiful attempts to get off with them. Rachel, who we all looked up to, was in the year above and she took some punishment over the years for going out with Billy. It was all jealousy I’m sure but there’s nothing worse than jealous teenage girls. Against all the pressure from her year and ours she held firm, from their first kiss right up till the moment young Leif Garrett started with his I was made for dancing in 1979 at our leavers disco. In case you don’t know, Leif Garrett was the Justin Bieber of the day. Rachel had left school the year before, of course, but someone – who remains unknown – invited her back. And Billy snapped.
‘I’m not dancing to that disco crap,’ he said, and walked off, leaving her looking really stupid. Which is not something you do to someone at a school disco. Not unless you’re ‘chucking them’ and don’t care who knows it. And even though Rachel was no longer at school, and technically, with it being our leaving disco, nor was Billy, it must still have hurt.
Normally someone would have shouted out ‘Beamer’ at her and the slagging would have been merciless but I think every single one of us was too shocked for words. Was there life beyond Billy and Rachel?
~ ~ ~
Just a year before they’d been the couple at the end of term disco and You’re the One that I want was the song that saw us through the summer term of 78. Billy and Rachel were Grease’s Danny and Sandy, if Danny and Sandy were Scottish school kids rather than American movie stars. For us, in 1978 it was the epitome of poignant. Not that we really ‘got’ poignant then. But we thought we did. In simple terms Rachel left school that summer and in at least one sense she left Billy behind. She had to. She was off to University. Surely that would be the end of the days of First love, best love?
With a distance of thirty years to reflect, I reckon it was in the summer of 1978 that our lives and musical tastes changed irrevocably. Meatloaf was just the thin end of the wedge. As far as the boys were concerned life was all Sham 69 and Billy was just an Angel with a Dirty Face or a Nice and Sleazy Strangler.
More importantly, until then, Billy and Rachel had this special way – you might call it ‘cute’ if you hadn’t been there and seen how deadly serious it was – of speaking to each other though song lyrics. So what was Billy to make of the summer of 78? Elvis was dead, John Lennon was still alive, and music was still his primary means of communication. That summer he wanted to know she loved him. She just wanted to dance. She was moving on. He was going back. He was being left behind. It hurt. He was a boy. He never said. But I knew. Much later a Fearless Taylor Swift never released but exclusively downloaded a track which showed me that I wasn’t the only one who knew how to lie. ‘I don't think it ever crossed his mind, He tells a joke, I fake a smile, That I know all his favourite songs.’ It’s nice to know I’m not the only one.
They weren’t my songs. The songs belonged to Billy and Rachel. But they were the soundtrack to all our lives. Our shared history had included I love to love, (but my baby just loves to dance) and You make me feel like dancing. He’d put up with all that. He put up with everything she threw at him. He even danced when required. But in the summer of 78 she was all You make me feel mighty real… and You stepped into my life, and I’m oh so happy one minute and I will survive the next. It’s no wonder he was confused.
She was into the dance groove and he was all To Be Someone, and All Mod Cons, and for him the words meant everything. When he said ‘I need you to keep me straight when the world don’t feel so great’ he really meant it. And when he played her the Police Can’t stand losing you before she headed off to Uni, he wasn’t expecting her to come back with… Someone left the cake out in the rain, I don't think that I can take it 'cause it took so long to bake it, And I'll never have that recipe again…
He tried to find common ground with Woman of Mine and If I can’t have you, but she was stuck in MacArthur’s park with Donna Summer and he couldn’t reach her.
What the hell could anyone make of that song? Billy did all he could, and he bought her Dave Edmunds Repeat When Necessary to go off to Uni with. But Girl’s Talk and Queen of Hearts ultimately left him Crawling from the Wreckage. In 1978 he was still a solid singles boy and she had moved on to dance mixes. Song lyrics are dangerous things in the hands of teenagers. The only thing that tied all of us together was Summer Lovin’. And that story didn’t have a happy ending.
When Billy came back to school in August 1978 he endured the other boys shouting ‘where’s Sandy?’ at him, or singing ‘‘What will they say Monday at school, Billy?’ or cat-calling ‘I sit and wonder why, why, why, why…’ at him. It’s amazing what amuses the teenage boy. It’s amazing how much he put up with. But he did. I was almost willing it otherwise. And I wasn’t the only one.
During the summer holidays, I remember queuing up at the Odeon on South Clerk Street to see the film the first weekend it came out. It’s what we did back then. There, about ten ahead of me in the queue were Billy and Rachel. Her first term at University didn’t start till October and he was trying to keep the flame alive. I didn’t let them know I was there. I gave them the space I thought they deserved. It might, for all I knew, have been their last date. I was fuelled by the band Clout: ‘If I could get that same dedication, I'd give you everything in creation.’ But I didn’t have the nerve to play my feelings on the jukebox at the Italian Café. Instead I sang my song lyrics at home into the mirror with my hairbrush. ‘If she doesn’t come back… I’ll be your substitute.’ I was waiting in the wings. Hopelessly devoted.
~ ~ ~
Back in the school disco of 1979, things got worse. Some clown of a teacher (it was still the teachers acting as DJ) put on Village People’s In the Navy and it had only been days since Billy had told the same teacher that he was thinking of joining up when he left school the next week.
‘Do you remember it?’ Laura said in 2013.
‘It was epic,’ I agreed. Of course I remembered. I remember every moment and every line. And I could tell you, his favourite colour’s green… (thanks, Taylor).
As the song started, Billy left Rachel on the floor and jumped up on the stage. It was the same stage he’d stood on just a day before, taking the prize for Physics and Chemistry. Now he took the teacher by the throat and punched him right on the nose. One punch. Blood everywhere. Not like in the Sweeney or any of those cop shows. Certainly not zap pow kabaam like Batman – there was nothing cartoon about Billy’s punch.
He was hauled out straight away and suspended from the last week of school – like he cared – and told he was lucky not to be up on an assault charge. But the most important thing was, he never said goodbye to Rachel. And she didn’t take his calls when night after night he stood in the public phone booth and posted money in the slot like it was the jukebox in the Italian café. She never once replied all summer. It was harsh.
‘Why didn’t she answer his calls?’ I asked. ‘Was it revenge for the whole Leif Garrett thing?’
‘Ah, she’d gone off him by then, anyway,’ Laura said. ‘She was at Uni, remember, and she was mixing with a more mature crowd.’
‘So why did she come back to the disco in the first place?’ I asked.
‘Marking her territory,’ Laura said, cryptically.
‘Are you sure it’s not because she found out you’d got off with him at Benmore?’ I asked.
A sticky subject, even after thirty five years.
~ 1979 ~
Billy and Rachel had been the couple in school. When the rest of us got off with each other and got dumped by each other in less time than it took the moon to complete a cycle, Billy and Rachel had been guided by Al Green and stayed together, good or bad, happy or sad from 1975 right up till she left school in 1978. (Give or take the odd moment of teen angst, of course!) No one else stood a chance. But that year after she left – well, every girl set their sights on Billy. While I was hanging around singing Substitute, in June 1979 Laura struck gold.
It was Meatloaf that did it. It was Doobs, the resident Heavy Rock guy, who put the song on the hi-fi. He was demob happy because he was leaving school that summer – as long as he failed his exams. So he didn’t care what he did in that final school trip. And the strains of You took the words right out of my mouth, must have been while you were kissing me, formed the backdrop to a betrayal no one had ever imagined. I know because I was there. I saw it.
So Billy got off with Laura at Benmore in June 1979. Well, Laura got off with Billy might be more strictly accurate. It was dark, it was warm, and there had been illicit booze passed round. Meatloaf was urging bad behaviour, but I can still hardly believe it happened. Boy, was I jealous. I’d sat beside Billy in Chemistry for three years wishing and hoping and never standing a chance – I didn’t even like Chemistry but sitting next to Billy meant we could brush hands when we had to do experiments with test tubes and Bunsen burners (not that he ever noticed) and I could pretend he was my boyfriend a double period.
You have to know that Billy never looked at another girl. Not till Rachel had left him high and dry by growing up and going to university. Even then, he held out for the best part of the school year. All that year, perhaps more in hope than reality, he told everyone they were still going out, and some of us even believed him. We didn’t want to imagine a world without Billy and Rachel as a couple, however much we wished it could be true.
Billy didn’t mean it to happen. I’m sure he wished it hadn’t. But I wouldn’t have told Laura that then, or even now. It was the high point of her life. And it was one better than I ever achieved.
After Meatloaf, Stevie, thinking he was smart, put on Up the Junction and that certainly brought Billy back to heel. It was the first time we’d heard it. Stevie had just bought the album. I never thought it would happen… It said what we all thought.
And so Billy straight away tried to convince her and himself, and us that nothing had happened. Nothing happened… it just happened... It meant nothing.
All the way on the mini bus trip home, while we were listening to the chart hits on the radio he was begging her to keep quiet about it. And she did. Two weeks later when Rachel turned up at our end of year school disco, Laura knew where she stood in the pecking order, or I thought she did.
~ ~ ~
I’ve often wondered who told Rachel. Someone must have. It wasn’t me, in case you’re thinking. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t have done that. I didn’t. The relationship between Billy and Rachel was, if not sacred, at least important to me. As something to be lived vicariously. To give me hope. So it wasn’t me, however much I might have wanted to. But it’s impossible she didn’t know. She didn’t let on, though, not that summer or for many years later. Not till… but that has to wait. We’ve not come to that record yet.
‘It started with Bohemian Rhapsody and ended with the Village People,’ I always said to anyone who wanted to know. But that’s not really true. The legend of Billy McGinley and Rachel Shaw really began earlier, around 1972 – at the swimming baths – and I was there then too. We grew up together and then we’d grown apart. It happens. Our musical tastes diverged as did our life paths. When we were organising the 2013 reunion, little did we know where the journey had taken them. We would find out soon enough. But only if we had the balls to invite them. Which was Laura’s question, remember.
~ 2013 ~
‘After the last time?’ I asked in 2013. Laura simply nodded.
I was in two minds. An eighteen year old having a pop at a teacher was one thing, but the fight of 2003 was something else. And it did end up with Billy on an assault charge. That’s how Mighty Real that night was.
‘Well, even if it ends in tears,’ Laura said, ‘It’ll be a good reason to cry. We’ll never have another chance to cry over our mis-spent youths, will we, not if they’re razing the building to the ground?’
‘I still can’t believe they’re going to do that,’ I said.
‘Oh, they are,’ she said. ‘You want to listen to a song, try this one.’
And she played me a song I’d not heard in more than twenty years. It was from 1983 Come Dancing, by the Kinks. They’d played it at our fifth reunion. The one he never came to. It was enough to convince me that I needed to see Billy again, no matter what. But I had another song playing on my mind too. Even though he was never mine, and so never mine to lose. Even all grown up, like The Beat said: Can’t get used to losing you, no matter what I try to do, gonna live my whole life through, loving you. I’d tasted Bread before The Jam and the finest years I ever knew were those years and I would still give everything I own, just to see Billy one more time.
Discography: Want to sing along? Here are some YouTube links – sorry about attendant ads – sure you can find these all on your streaming music delivery platform (if you have such a thing!). This is a mammoth set – to get you ready for what’s to come…
Berni Flint – First love, best love https://youtu.be/4JrfRzqrptg
Melba Moore You stepped into my life, https://youtu.be/qNUYWSdxzr4
Gloria Gaynor I will survive https://youtu.be/ZBR2G-iI3-I
The Jam To Be Someone https://youtu.be/umssesXWCe0
The Police Can’t stand losing you https://youtu.be/nH0vjLwMyc4
Donna Summer MacArthur Park https://youtu.be/lV1oafB3grM
Dean Freidman Woman of Mine https://youtu.be/jUMbiz6A_8A
Yvonne Elliman If I can’t have you, https://youtu.be/ZlFAn8-kytM
Tina Charles – I love to love https://youtu.be/yHRYYtiIMJY
Leo Sayer You Make me Feel Like Dancing https://youtu.be/VDlvPD9qCao
Dave Edmunds – Repeat When Necessary (Girl’s Talk) https://youtu.be/7uEXJNS1llg
Grease – soundtrack https://youtu.be/ie7YOelHTyM
Taylor Swift – I’d lie https://youtu.be/GV0qT55fEww
Clout – Substitute https://youtu.be/ZtVOhqarpVo
Al Green – let’s stay together https://youtu.be/COiIC3A0ROM
Meatloaf – Took the words right out of my mouth https://youtu.be/_wO8toxinoc
Squeeze – Up the Junction https://youtu.be/RQciegmLPAo
Sylvester You make me feel Mighty Real https://youtu.be/VyAHULpMXKQ
The Kinks – Come Dancing https://youtu.be/hTG7hnnqD5w
The Beat – Can’t get used to losing you https://youtu.be/9Jwzq_rPlsg
Bread – Everything I own https://youtu.be/a4dXrV4FtjE
‘I’m not dancing to that disco crap,’ he said, and walked off, leaving her looking really stupid. Which is not something you do to someone at a school disco. Not unless you’re ‘chucking them’ and don’t care who knows it. And even though Rachel was no longer at school, and technically, with it being our leaving disco, nor was Billy, it must still have hurt.
Normally someone would have shouted out ‘Beamer’ at her and the slagging would have been merciless but I think every single one of us was too shocked for words. Was there life beyond Billy and Rachel?
~ ~ ~
Just a year before they’d been the couple at the end of term disco and You’re the One that I want was the song that saw us through the summer term of 78. Billy and Rachel were Grease’s Danny and Sandy, if Danny and Sandy were Scottish school kids rather than American movie stars. For us, in 1978 it was the epitome of poignant. Not that we really ‘got’ poignant then. But we thought we did. In simple terms Rachel left school that summer and in at least one sense she left Billy behind. She had to. She was off to University. Surely that would be the end of the days of First love, best love?
With a distance of thirty years to reflect, I reckon it was in the summer of 1978 that our lives and musical tastes changed irrevocably. Meatloaf was just the thin end of the wedge. As far as the boys were concerned life was all Sham 69 and Billy was just an Angel with a Dirty Face or a Nice and Sleazy Strangler.
More importantly, until then, Billy and Rachel had this special way – you might call it ‘cute’ if you hadn’t been there and seen how deadly serious it was – of speaking to each other though song lyrics. So what was Billy to make of the summer of 78? Elvis was dead, John Lennon was still alive, and music was still his primary means of communication. That summer he wanted to know she loved him. She just wanted to dance. She was moving on. He was going back. He was being left behind. It hurt. He was a boy. He never said. But I knew. Much later a Fearless Taylor Swift never released but exclusively downloaded a track which showed me that I wasn’t the only one who knew how to lie. ‘I don't think it ever crossed his mind, He tells a joke, I fake a smile, That I know all his favourite songs.’ It’s nice to know I’m not the only one.
They weren’t my songs. The songs belonged to Billy and Rachel. But they were the soundtrack to all our lives. Our shared history had included I love to love, (but my baby just loves to dance) and You make me feel like dancing. He’d put up with all that. He put up with everything she threw at him. He even danced when required. But in the summer of 78 she was all You make me feel mighty real… and You stepped into my life, and I’m oh so happy one minute and I will survive the next. It’s no wonder he was confused.
She was into the dance groove and he was all To Be Someone, and All Mod Cons, and for him the words meant everything. When he said ‘I need you to keep me straight when the world don’t feel so great’ he really meant it. And when he played her the Police Can’t stand losing you before she headed off to Uni, he wasn’t expecting her to come back with… Someone left the cake out in the rain, I don't think that I can take it 'cause it took so long to bake it, And I'll never have that recipe again…
He tried to find common ground with Woman of Mine and If I can’t have you, but she was stuck in MacArthur’s park with Donna Summer and he couldn’t reach her.
What the hell could anyone make of that song? Billy did all he could, and he bought her Dave Edmunds Repeat When Necessary to go off to Uni with. But Girl’s Talk and Queen of Hearts ultimately left him Crawling from the Wreckage. In 1978 he was still a solid singles boy and she had moved on to dance mixes. Song lyrics are dangerous things in the hands of teenagers. The only thing that tied all of us together was Summer Lovin’. And that story didn’t have a happy ending.
When Billy came back to school in August 1978 he endured the other boys shouting ‘where’s Sandy?’ at him, or singing ‘‘What will they say Monday at school, Billy?’ or cat-calling ‘I sit and wonder why, why, why, why…’ at him. It’s amazing what amuses the teenage boy. It’s amazing how much he put up with. But he did. I was almost willing it otherwise. And I wasn’t the only one.
During the summer holidays, I remember queuing up at the Odeon on South Clerk Street to see the film the first weekend it came out. It’s what we did back then. There, about ten ahead of me in the queue were Billy and Rachel. Her first term at University didn’t start till October and he was trying to keep the flame alive. I didn’t let them know I was there. I gave them the space I thought they deserved. It might, for all I knew, have been their last date. I was fuelled by the band Clout: ‘If I could get that same dedication, I'd give you everything in creation.’ But I didn’t have the nerve to play my feelings on the jukebox at the Italian Café. Instead I sang my song lyrics at home into the mirror with my hairbrush. ‘If she doesn’t come back… I’ll be your substitute.’ I was waiting in the wings. Hopelessly devoted.
~ ~ ~
Back in the school disco of 1979, things got worse. Some clown of a teacher (it was still the teachers acting as DJ) put on Village People’s In the Navy and it had only been days since Billy had told the same teacher that he was thinking of joining up when he left school the next week.
‘Do you remember it?’ Laura said in 2013.
‘It was epic,’ I agreed. Of course I remembered. I remember every moment and every line. And I could tell you, his favourite colour’s green… (thanks, Taylor).
As the song started, Billy left Rachel on the floor and jumped up on the stage. It was the same stage he’d stood on just a day before, taking the prize for Physics and Chemistry. Now he took the teacher by the throat and punched him right on the nose. One punch. Blood everywhere. Not like in the Sweeney or any of those cop shows. Certainly not zap pow kabaam like Batman – there was nothing cartoon about Billy’s punch.
He was hauled out straight away and suspended from the last week of school – like he cared – and told he was lucky not to be up on an assault charge. But the most important thing was, he never said goodbye to Rachel. And she didn’t take his calls when night after night he stood in the public phone booth and posted money in the slot like it was the jukebox in the Italian café. She never once replied all summer. It was harsh.
‘Why didn’t she answer his calls?’ I asked. ‘Was it revenge for the whole Leif Garrett thing?’
‘Ah, she’d gone off him by then, anyway,’ Laura said. ‘She was at Uni, remember, and she was mixing with a more mature crowd.’
‘So why did she come back to the disco in the first place?’ I asked.
‘Marking her territory,’ Laura said, cryptically.
‘Are you sure it’s not because she found out you’d got off with him at Benmore?’ I asked.
A sticky subject, even after thirty five years.
~ 1979 ~
Billy and Rachel had been the couple in school. When the rest of us got off with each other and got dumped by each other in less time than it took the moon to complete a cycle, Billy and Rachel had been guided by Al Green and stayed together, good or bad, happy or sad from 1975 right up till she left school in 1978. (Give or take the odd moment of teen angst, of course!) No one else stood a chance. But that year after she left – well, every girl set their sights on Billy. While I was hanging around singing Substitute, in June 1979 Laura struck gold.
It was Meatloaf that did it. It was Doobs, the resident Heavy Rock guy, who put the song on the hi-fi. He was demob happy because he was leaving school that summer – as long as he failed his exams. So he didn’t care what he did in that final school trip. And the strains of You took the words right out of my mouth, must have been while you were kissing me, formed the backdrop to a betrayal no one had ever imagined. I know because I was there. I saw it.
So Billy got off with Laura at Benmore in June 1979. Well, Laura got off with Billy might be more strictly accurate. It was dark, it was warm, and there had been illicit booze passed round. Meatloaf was urging bad behaviour, but I can still hardly believe it happened. Boy, was I jealous. I’d sat beside Billy in Chemistry for three years wishing and hoping and never standing a chance – I didn’t even like Chemistry but sitting next to Billy meant we could brush hands when we had to do experiments with test tubes and Bunsen burners (not that he ever noticed) and I could pretend he was my boyfriend a double period.
You have to know that Billy never looked at another girl. Not till Rachel had left him high and dry by growing up and going to university. Even then, he held out for the best part of the school year. All that year, perhaps more in hope than reality, he told everyone they were still going out, and some of us even believed him. We didn’t want to imagine a world without Billy and Rachel as a couple, however much we wished it could be true.
Billy didn’t mean it to happen. I’m sure he wished it hadn’t. But I wouldn’t have told Laura that then, or even now. It was the high point of her life. And it was one better than I ever achieved.
After Meatloaf, Stevie, thinking he was smart, put on Up the Junction and that certainly brought Billy back to heel. It was the first time we’d heard it. Stevie had just bought the album. I never thought it would happen… It said what we all thought.
And so Billy straight away tried to convince her and himself, and us that nothing had happened. Nothing happened… it just happened... It meant nothing.
All the way on the mini bus trip home, while we were listening to the chart hits on the radio he was begging her to keep quiet about it. And she did. Two weeks later when Rachel turned up at our end of year school disco, Laura knew where she stood in the pecking order, or I thought she did.
~ ~ ~
I’ve often wondered who told Rachel. Someone must have. It wasn’t me, in case you’re thinking. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t have done that. I didn’t. The relationship between Billy and Rachel was, if not sacred, at least important to me. As something to be lived vicariously. To give me hope. So it wasn’t me, however much I might have wanted to. But it’s impossible she didn’t know. She didn’t let on, though, not that summer or for many years later. Not till… but that has to wait. We’ve not come to that record yet.
‘It started with Bohemian Rhapsody and ended with the Village People,’ I always said to anyone who wanted to know. But that’s not really true. The legend of Billy McGinley and Rachel Shaw really began earlier, around 1972 – at the swimming baths – and I was there then too. We grew up together and then we’d grown apart. It happens. Our musical tastes diverged as did our life paths. When we were organising the 2013 reunion, little did we know where the journey had taken them. We would find out soon enough. But only if we had the balls to invite them. Which was Laura’s question, remember.
~ 2013 ~
‘After the last time?’ I asked in 2013. Laura simply nodded.
I was in two minds. An eighteen year old having a pop at a teacher was one thing, but the fight of 2003 was something else. And it did end up with Billy on an assault charge. That’s how Mighty Real that night was.
‘Well, even if it ends in tears,’ Laura said, ‘It’ll be a good reason to cry. We’ll never have another chance to cry over our mis-spent youths, will we, not if they’re razing the building to the ground?’
‘I still can’t believe they’re going to do that,’ I said.
‘Oh, they are,’ she said. ‘You want to listen to a song, try this one.’
And she played me a song I’d not heard in more than twenty years. It was from 1983 Come Dancing, by the Kinks. They’d played it at our fifth reunion. The one he never came to. It was enough to convince me that I needed to see Billy again, no matter what. But I had another song playing on my mind too. Even though he was never mine, and so never mine to lose. Even all grown up, like The Beat said: Can’t get used to losing you, no matter what I try to do, gonna live my whole life through, loving you. I’d tasted Bread before The Jam and the finest years I ever knew were those years and I would still give everything I own, just to see Billy one more time.
Discography: Want to sing along? Here are some YouTube links – sorry about attendant ads – sure you can find these all on your streaming music delivery platform (if you have such a thing!). This is a mammoth set – to get you ready for what’s to come…
Berni Flint – First love, best love https://youtu.be/4JrfRzqrptg
Melba Moore You stepped into my life, https://youtu.be/qNUYWSdxzr4
Gloria Gaynor I will survive https://youtu.be/ZBR2G-iI3-I
The Jam To Be Someone https://youtu.be/umssesXWCe0
The Police Can’t stand losing you https://youtu.be/nH0vjLwMyc4
Donna Summer MacArthur Park https://youtu.be/lV1oafB3grM
Dean Freidman Woman of Mine https://youtu.be/jUMbiz6A_8A
Yvonne Elliman If I can’t have you, https://youtu.be/ZlFAn8-kytM
Tina Charles – I love to love https://youtu.be/yHRYYtiIMJY
Leo Sayer You Make me Feel Like Dancing https://youtu.be/VDlvPD9qCao
Dave Edmunds – Repeat When Necessary (Girl’s Talk) https://youtu.be/7uEXJNS1llg
Grease – soundtrack https://youtu.be/ie7YOelHTyM
Taylor Swift – I’d lie https://youtu.be/GV0qT55fEww
Clout – Substitute https://youtu.be/ZtVOhqarpVo
Al Green – let’s stay together https://youtu.be/COiIC3A0ROM
Meatloaf – Took the words right out of my mouth https://youtu.be/_wO8toxinoc
Squeeze – Up the Junction https://youtu.be/RQciegmLPAo
Sylvester You make me feel Mighty Real https://youtu.be/VyAHULpMXKQ
The Kinks – Come Dancing https://youtu.be/hTG7hnnqD5w
The Beat – Can’t get used to losing you https://youtu.be/9Jwzq_rPlsg
Bread – Everything I own https://youtu.be/a4dXrV4FtjE
About the Author
Annie Christie is a pretty ordinary person, except that she was born Annie Christie and then married a man called Christie and so is still called Christie despite having taken on her husband’s name. She sometimes wonders if she should have called herself Christie-Christie: but who would believe that?
Born near Drum of Wartle in Aberdeenshire, Annie moved as swiftly as possible to a place with a less bizarre name – Edinburgh – but the bizarreness chased her and she now lives with her husband Rab in rural Galloway, with a Kirkcudbrightshire postcode. (That's Cur coo bree shire to the uninitiated.) She is an active member of the Infinite Jigsaw Project.
The Soundtrack of Our Lives is Annie's fourth McSerial written for McStorytellers.
Born near Drum of Wartle in Aberdeenshire, Annie moved as swiftly as possible to a place with a less bizarre name – Edinburgh – but the bizarreness chased her and she now lives with her husband Rab in rural Galloway, with a Kirkcudbrightshire postcode. (That's Cur coo bree shire to the uninitiated.) She is an active member of the Infinite Jigsaw Project.
The Soundtrack of Our Lives is Annie's fourth McSerial written for McStorytellers.