Robin's Discs

1 Rodrigo, Concerto de Aranjuez

I paid the price for my teenage Arseholery with this one; I borrowed it from my Spanish teacher who a week later tried and failed to play it to the class. Queue him holding me up as a paragon of studenthood and the rest of the class realising they had a prize brownnosing tit for a classmate. Seriously though, one of the best pieces of classical music I’ve ever heard.

2 Kanye West, College Dropout

A boy’s teenage years are a constant struggle to achieve and maintain that mythical status “coolness” and here was the golden ticket, sod the chocolate factory tour I wanted this album.. Added to this is the fact that behind all the bravado and Hip-hop priggishness I’m almost 80% confident that Kanye is a musical genius. Jesus walks – Southwood treks.

3 Ally McBeal Soundtrack

My guilty little secret; listening to this is about as Manly as lounging in your bedroom scoffing Haagen-Dazs in pink slippers and dressing gown whilst menstruating over a copy of Grazia. Boys simply shouldn’t own this album but there’s something perversely enjoyable about feeling your balls give you up for a lost cause as you hum along mincingly.
Sean and I will definitely “synchronise” half way up the mountain if this one is allowed on the plane.

4 Fleetwood Mac, Rumours

This album includes “The Chain” probably better known as the intro music to the Grand Prix.
I remember with fondness me and my father settling down to watch the race, my Granddad churlishly refusing to join in with the comment, “it’s not a sport if you can smoke whilst doing it” Quite where he got the idea that any of the drivers would be allowed to light up halfway round Nurburgring is anybody’s guess but if anyone has ever attempted it and lived, I doff my hat to them.

5 Bob Dylan, Blood on the Tracks

When you listen to Dylan it is as if sandpaper could sing, sandpaper with a Marlborough Red dangling from its grizzled mouth and a sore head. By far the best lyricist of his generation and my favourite solo artist of all time!

6 Michael Jackson, Off the Wall

The man was a walking Daz advert but however ludicrous his personal life became he was still a Stone-Cold-Floor-Filler; songs so ridiculously good that you couldn’t resist crotch grabbing and air kicking your way down the street when they came on.

Robin’s Book:

As many people know my tastes in reading are many and varied; ranging from the wooden economical didactics of Ayn Rand to the unashamed Horsey effluvia of Jilly Cooper novels. I have however, more by luck than judgement, managed to happen upon the occasional literary gem.

That’s exactly what happened with the book I’d choose to take with me, “Out of Africa” by Karen Blixen, which was forced upon me by my Grandfather.

The book is an examination of the quixotic nature of the African continent, its people and a joyous celebration of the evocative surroundings which held me spellbound for three sleepless nights. Here was someone whose heart had been touched by this magical continent, and so were sown the seeds of my own desire to visit this unique landscape.

Robins Luxury item:

Wisden Cricketing Almanac