Sammy’s Mixtape

Subject: Your 13th Birthday Mixtape!

Scheduled to send: 00.01 Saturday 30 December, 2023

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Happy birthday, Sammy! 13! A teenager!

So, it’s another one of my birthday emails. I hope you don’t mind them. I wish I could be there with you, but this is the best I can do.

I can (just) remember what it felt like to be 13. It can be tough. Confusing. But it can (and should) also be the best time. A time to make friends. To try new things. Try it all! Give everything a go! Have fun! You’ll be an adult with a job, a credit card, a mortgage and bad knees before you know it!

Given you’re 13 now, I thought I’d do something a bit different this year. I made a mixtape for you.

If you don’t know, a mixtape is what we used to make back in the Stone Ages when I was a kid. In the 70s, 80s and 90s, we used to buy music on records or cassette tapes (and then CDs), and we’d record our favourite songs on blank tape cassettes (mixtapes).

Ask your mum. She probably has some old ones I made for her (back when we were dating).

The key to a good mixtape is selecting the tracks. But cassettes could only record 45 minutes of music on each side, so you had to choose wisely.

History lesson over.

I’m not even sure you’ll want my mixtape – it’s lots of old stuff – but I’ve enjoyed putting it together for you. It’s been good to keep my mind busy. And like all the best mixtapes, it tells a story.

13 for Sammy’s 13th Birthday Mixtape

1. All You Need Is Love. The Beatles. One of my earliest memories. It’s summer. The sun’s out. I’m on the back seat of our old Ford Granada with your Uncle Dave. The plasticky seat always got hot in the sun. You had to be careful if you wore shorts! Mum and Dad (your Granny and Grandad) are in the front and we’re driving out of London for a day at the beach, all singing along to The Beatles. Yellow Submarine. Sgt. Pepper’s. Strawberry Fields. Dad loved The Beatles.
2.  I Say A Little Prayer. Aretha Franklin. Another early memory. Maybe 1979. I would’ve been about 5. I remember your Gran playing this record over and over. Your grandad wasn’t there – Gran said he was away on holiday, which was weird because we never had enough money to go on holiday. I couldn’t work out why he would’ve gone without us. The ‘holiday’ turned out to be hospital. He looked ill and had lost all his hair when he came home, but Granny was happy to have him back.
3. You Really Got Me. The Kinks. Your grandad died when I was 6. I wasn’t allowed to go to his funeral, but I went to the wake afterwards. It was in a pub near our house. There were lots of people. The carpets were sticky and the air was thick with cigarette smoke (everyone smoked back then). You’d think it would’ve been sad – and I guess people were – but everyone was sharing funny stories about Grandad and laughing, including Granny, even though her make-up was smudged. They played all Grandad’s favourite songs. Lots of Beatles, of course, but I remember this one by The Kinks.
4. Liquidator. The Harry J All Stars. My first football match! Uncle Dave took me to see Chelsea play at Stamford Bridge for my ninth birthday. I remember how big the stadium looked. How many people there were. The murmur of the crowd growing the closer we got. Jostling through the turnstiles, up the stairs and out into the stadium. The pitch looked huge! They were playing this song as we made our way to our seats. They play it before every game. Maybe Uncle Dave will take you.
5. Heroes. David Bowie. Have you heard about Live Aid? It was this huge concert at Wembley Stadium in 1985. All the world’s biggest bands came together to raise money for the people who were starving in Africa. EVERYONE watched it on the telly. There were so many iconic moments. Search on YouTube, and you’ll see what I mean. Queen stole the show, but this song stuck in my memory. Made me think of Grandad. Bowie was another of his favourites.
6. Gigantic. The Pixies. 21 October, 1990, Brixton Academy. My first gig (well, the first one I went to on my own!). Granny didn’t want me to go. In fact, she told me I couldn’t go. Back then, Brixton had a reputation for being dangerous. I ended up buying a ticket, sneaking out and going anyway. Granny didn’t understand that I HAD to go. It was The Pixies! And I had a crush on Kim Deal!
7. Street Spirit. Radiohead. I was so obsessed with Radiohead when I was at university. I went to see them play at The Forum before they got reeeally big. I even tried to learn guitar after that gig. I wasn’t very good. In fact, I was terrible!
8. Song 2. Blur. So, I finished my degree in 1998 and got a job. Only kidding! I took a year out to go backpacking. Your gran wasn’t happy about it but I’d saved some money, so I bought an around-the-world ticket and off I went. India. Cambodia. Thailand. Everywhere I went, Song 2 seemed to be playing. In fact, it was playing when I met your mum at a beach party in Koh Samui. Sounds corny, but it was love at first sight. For me. Your mum took some persuading, which is why I changed my travel plans to backpack around Australia with her. She eventually saw how awesome I was.
9. Sunrise. Pulp. 2001. The year the world changed. And not for the better (apart from me and your mum, of course – we made sense, even if the world didn’t). It was the year we moved into our first home together. A poky little apartment. It was terrible. The windows didn’t close properly. The neighbours were horrible. We had to decorate everything (we listened to this album a lot while we painted). But we were happy.
10. There Is No Greater Love. Amy Winehouse. I won’t tell you about the mess I made of proposing to your mum (she can tell you about it). Suffice it to say I ended up in the local hospital’s A&E department, covered in bee stings. But our wedding went off much more smoothly. This was the track we played for our first dance. We were surrounded by practically everyone we knew, and we spent the day chatting and mingling, as you do, but while we were dancing it felt like we were the only people in the room.
11. Joni Mitchell. Big Yellow Taxi. Your gran died in 2008. Cancer, like Grandad. She was a lovely lady. I wish you’d got to meet her. So gentle. So caring. Always smiling. She would’ve loved you (and spoilt you rotten). This song makes me think of her – she used to play it whenever she got a chance when I was a kid (whenever Grandad wasn’t playing The Beatles!). She even looked a bit like Joni.
12. Howlin’ for You. The Black Keys. This came out at the end of 2010, about the time you were born. I remember singing this to you, dancing around the front room. You’d giggled, so I guess you were born a Black Keys fan (or a fan of my dancing). I wonder if you still like it. I wonder what sort of music you’re listening to.
13. Lucky Man. The Verve. I went to see these guys back in the 90s before they got big. This track still holds up pretty well, even in 2013. I’ve been listening to a lot of 90s stuff while I’ve been waiting around. There’s a lot of time to kill when you’re undergoing chemo and radiotherapy. A lot of time to think about what you’ve done, what you maybe should’ve done differently. A lot of time to wonder about the future. And now that I know I haven’t got long left, I can honestly say I only have one regret: not being there for you and your mum as you grow up.

I’ve put your mixtape together on this streaming service called Spotify. I’m hoping it’s still going when you read this.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5YwwVDgUpW5RSEROLl169O?si=d68351db4183446d

If Spotify has gone the way of Napster (ask your mum), I have most of these tracks on vinyl, cassette or CD. There’s an old stereo with a turntable, tape deck and CD player in the attic (or there was). You can play them on that for the authentic experience!

I’m sorry I’m not there to celebrate with you, Sammy. And I’m sorry this isn’t much of a present. But please know how much I love you.

Until next year.

Love,

Dad