The End. From the banality of X Factor to the beauty of Amy Winehouse.

After writing about 69 memories of music that I’ve either loved or helped to shape me as a person, the year 2000 and the release of Lost Souls by Doves is an apt place to end. Why, especially as a ton of amazing music has been released since? Maybe being made redundant three times from music shops I was managing gave me a long-lasting musical downer post MVC, Music Zone and Fopp? Nope, that sucked, especially losing my job on Christmas Eve at MVC, but I got over all three quickly.

Around the late ‘90s I rediscovered a passion for local (Dorset) bands. Inspired by impassioned promoters Solid Air I frequented many local gigs, becoming friends with many promoters, gig-goers and band members. From 2006 I’d end up running my own music promotion business, resigned to losing money along the way I realised very quickly that most of the music I was enjoying locally was better than the majority of crap that was finding its way into the slowly evaporating singles chart. Way too much of that crap had achieved sales and chart success on the back of the growing popularity of TV talent shows. I hated them intensely.

Popstars, Pop Idol, Britain’s Got Talent, Fame Academy, The Voice, X Factor and a bulging bunch of failures you’ve probably never heard of like Rock Rivals have hugely contributed to not just the lowering of standards and expectations, literally discouraging ground-breaking creativity, but also by force-feeding that banal dross into our TV screens these singers and songs are what kids now aspire to be. Dull. Monotonous. Manufactured. And it makes me want to puke. I see these programmes as nothing more than money-makers for their inventors and as vehicles to enhance or extend the celebrity status of the show’s ‘judges’. Fuck that.

When I was working for Fopp in the mid 2000s there was a ‘charity single’ released by Simon Cowell’s X Factor. At the time a usual CD single would cost £1.99 or £2.99, rarely more. This X Factor ‘charity single’ – a lacklustre piece of dross with a shitty remix as a B-side cost £3.99. Now, big up Simon Cowell for making so much money for a worthwhile cause, right? But in very, very small letters on the back of the CD it read something like: £1 from sales of this single will go to the charity. So £1 to the charity and £2.99 to Cowell, because he needs it. To me, this typifies Cowell’s ideology. He’s in it for the money. The music is not even secondary, it’s a means to wealth.

I see the huge advancements in technology and the impact they have had on recorded music as a double-edged sword. To have an infinite amount of music available at your fingertips is clearly incredible, but not if it’s free. Having seen the energy, skill and commitment it takes to make amazing music, how can it be right for it to be free, or at best for the artist, a pittance? Why music, which has taken weeks or months of time and talent to perfect and not a painting, book or a meal at a restaurant, and why should streaming sites earn such a huge amount of money from music that others have created? Bands who have already achieved a level of success can obviously make money from live performances, merch and other endorsements, but the vast majority of bands who are just starting out or haven’t appeared on a shitty TV talent show? Yeah… here’s our music we’ve spent months creating. Take it. Money? Nah, it’s yours.

Now that all sounds a bit negative, which it is. Give me music before free downloads and fucking X Factor stuck their knives in any day. But, amazing, creative bands and artists exist as much as ever, it’s just they don’t appear on TV any more. Post 2000 I’ve loved Weller, Graham Coxon, The Bees, Belle & Sebastian, Richard Hawley, Radiohead, Mercury Rev, Flaming Lips, Doves, Fleet Foxes, Kate Tempest and Kings Of Leon before they cashed in and became vacuous. But one artist stands out a mile. Amy Winehouse. When we received Back To Black in Fopp and I’d read the reviews of this amazing new soul singer, I was cautious and heavily reluctant to believe the hype. But instantly I could hear this was the real deal. Everything about it screamed of a brilliant and undoubted talent. For an authentic soul artist in 2006 the perfect vintage production was great to hear, but more than that it was the quality of the songs and her incredible voice that blew me away. Her loss is truly tragic.

Seeing Neil Young perform at the Hop Farm Festival and Brian Wilson at the Opera House were gigs I’ll never forget, as are some amazing times promoting, watching, and hanging out with local bands. Music remains a constant love, but now more than ever I find myself looking back rather than forward. Writing Melody Calls has brought back so many incredible memories, not just of the music but the people associated with those times. I feel blessed to have lived a life so entrenched in and indebted to the skill, passion and sheer genius of so many artists.

Thank you all and thank you for reading.