🔗 Share this article John Simm's Honest Playlist: From Early Favorites to Peculiar Aversions The earliest song I was captivated byMy first recollection is walking into a space at kindergarten where they were blasting Yellow Submarine by the Beatles. I was mesmerized by the audio textures, and John Lennon yelling: “Full speed ahead!” When it arrived at the hook, I remember thinking: “This must be music!” The inaugural single I purchasedWhen I was eight, I won a competition at school to select a brand new vinyl to play at the weekly dance party we had on Fridays. My instructor took me to a local store, and I picked out Come Back My Love by Darts. The first record I bought with my own savings was Mull of Kintyre by Wings from a record shop in Lancashire. It was number one at the time, and I chose it when my dad noted that it was by a former member of the Beatles. The track I do at karaokeI honestly cannot stand karaoke and avoid it at all costs. But under duress, I’d select Summer Wind by Ol' Blue Eyes. The track I strangely remember every lyric toI not long ago became aware that I have memorized almost all the lyrics to The Boy in the Bubble, You Can Call Me Al, and the entire album on Graceland by the legendary songwriter. The best tune to play at a gatheringIt hinges on which phase of the party you are at. For the beginning it would most likely be I Heard It Through the Grapevine by the soul legend. As the night wears on, I’d move on to the Artist, the Stones and Bowie, and when it hits its peak, Phat Planet by Leftfield, Born Slippy .NUXX by the techno pioneers, and Ascension by the virtual band, which is an massive track. The song I can never hearI inexplicably detest Mr Brightside by the Las Vegas band. The best song to get intimate toCome Together by the Beatles. The LP that transformed meWhen I was twelve and just learning to play the six-string, I’d only listen to 1950s rock and roll, and was consumed by Elvis, the rock pioneer, the killer, the New Orleans legend, the glasses-wearing icon and Eddie Cochran. Then my babysitter introduced me to Let There Be Rock by AC/DC. It was still rock’n’roll, but it was powerful rock music. The moment he placed the vinyl on the turntable, I was hooked. The tune that motivates me in the morningWhat’d I Say in its full glory by Ray Charles. The track that makes me cryMost music makes me emotional. The Queen of Soul, Frank Sinatra, Elvis and the Beatles all make me cry because of the melody and sheer beauty of the voices. But The Ocean by Richard Hawley strikes a chord without fail. The track I’d like to be played at my memorial serviceElvis. If I’m cremated, I’ll have Burning Love. If I’m buried, I’ll have Way Down.