Q&A Remix: Tom Blake

Q&A Remix is a frequent column on IHTOV in which people from all walks of life answer a set of questions about their vinyl collection. Today we welcome author, poet, and music journalist Tom Blake

Have you ever bought a record just for the artwork? 

I saw the artwork for Ellen Arkbro’s 2017 debut For Organ and Brass and instantly knew I was going to buy the album. The cover design is a wonderful piece of art in its own right: it has a kind of minimalist, modernist vibe going on but it also hints at depth and contrast. And that shade of yellow was perfect for my living room. That might sound like a shallow reason to buy a record, but I respond to colour in a big way. As luck would have it, the cover was indicative of the content. It’s a wonderful piece of music. Kristin Hersh’s Sunny Border Blue was another one that jumped out at me because of the colour and the visual aesthetic.

What is your most memorable vinyl buying/receiving experience? 

Finding a copy of Pavement’s Westing (By Musket and Sextant) in the Sue Ryder charity shop in Swindon, languishing in a bargain bin with Phil Collins and Perry Como and 20 Disco Greats. For the uninitiated, it’s a compilation of early EPs and singles, and it’s pretty rad. An incredible find, and it only cost me 50p. Nothing good came from that shop for the next ten years, and then I found a copy of Virginia Astley’s Hope In a Darkened Heart there.  

What’s the most treasured album in your collection and why? 

I’m tempted to say something passed down from my dad. Led Zeppelin III, the first album I remember engaging with. Or perhaps Melanie’s Candles in the Rain, which nursed me through teenage heartbreak. 

What one record in your collection would you be most eager to share with new friends?

Josephine Foster - Hazel Eyes, I Will Lead You. Not enough people know how great Foster is, and this album has some unfathomable magic that is almost impossible to write about. It’s a communal thing; her voice is a tool for communality and her whole sound lends itself somehow to shared experience.

Do you have a definitive album of choice for spring, summer, autumn and winter? 

Autumn and winter are easy: when the leaves turn and the baseball season ends I always reach for Nixon by Lambchop. There’s something warm and russet and walnutty about that album, but it also has that hint of encroaching darkness, or perhaps dimness. And as for winter, that will always be Björk’s Vespertine. Nothing frostier exists. Spring and summer are more difficult, maybe because here in the UK we tend to treat the first good day of spring like it’s our entire summer. And sometimes it is. But on that first warm day I like to play Bringing the Backline by Trust Fund, particularly the song Carson McCullers. It’s irresistible. I also find myself reaching for Parliament/Funkadelic quite often when the sun comes out.

What is/are your white whale records, something you have your eye on but haven’t been able to get? 

I don’t really appreciate rarity for rarity’s sake, but having said that, it would be great to own an original copy of Vashti Bunyan’s Just Another Diamond Day. 

Who/what got you hooked on records?

Rotating that moveable psychedelic cover on Led Zep III was a start. And scaring the pants off myself listening to Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds in the dark when I was barely more than a toddler. 

What’s your favorite record to listen to on headphones? 

I’m not a big nerd for sound quality and I don’t own any expensive audio equipment. A lot of my favourite music skews towards the lo-fi end of the spectrum. But I’m a huge Joanna Newsom fan. Like, to the extent that I’m convinced that she is the greatest living genius and Ys is the most important piece of art of our century so far. Apart from the first one, which has a different kind of charm, all her albums benefit from clean, close listening: there is so much detail both musically and lyrically that I sometimes think you need to prepare yourself like a religious ascetic before you listen to them. 

What’s the weirdest record you own? 

I am the proud owner of a near-mint copy of Keep On Wombling, the third and best Wombles album. I’m not sure anyone outside the UK has heard of the Wombles, but they’re worth a quick Google. Keep On Wombling was their cocaine album, their White Album, their Be Here Now. There’s a song called Invitation To The Ping-Pong Ball which sounds like Helen of Troy-era John Cale. And of course it finishes with Wombling Merry Christmas, the greatest glam-era Christmas song. Better than Wizzard. Better than Slade. That’s not necessarily a hill I’d choose to die on, but since when have we been able to choose?

Name the top three records you own that could describe you or your vibe. 

Belle and Sebastian - If You’re Feeling Sinister. I was always the foppy, floppy indie kid when I was younger, and Stuart Murdoch was my hero. Still is in many ways. 

Silver Jews - The Natural Bridge, because David Berman influenced my writing more than anyone else. 

Kero Kero Bonito - Bonito Generation. I guess a lot of people see me as quite reserved and perhaps a bit miserable, but there’s a side of me that likes to dance around the kitchen singing songs about goldfish and trampolines. 

What’s the last record you played?

The reissue of the Twin Peaks soundtrack. My eldest is twelve and I’ve just introduced them to Twin Peaks. I’m always amazed by how perfect Angelo Badalamenti’s music is, how he seems to have a psychic connection with what Lynch and Frost were trying to achieve. 

Tom Blake (he/him) is an author, poet and music journalist based in the south-west of England. He has been reviewing music for KLOF (formerly Folk Radio UK) for twelve years, specialising in the lo-fi, the DIY, the obscure, the freaky and the experimental. 

He has two poetry chapbooks out with Red Ceilings, a boutique independent press that favours small print runs and pocket-sized books. His first chapbook, Ƨ, came out in 2023. Musician Alex Neilson called it ‘sexily pleasurable’, and who are we to argue? His second book, Peach Epoch, ‘faces the horrifying indistinguishability of the finite and the infinite’ (Jamie Halliday). It is inspired by visual art, film and music, and contains poems about David Berman, Jason Molina and Ed Askew. 

His recent poems have appeared in Anthropocene, Stone of Madness, And Other Poems, and Shore. He has three new poems in the upcoming edition of Confluence magazine.