My Mother's records

My mother had a big collection of 45s that she kept in our living room sideboard, they were in bloody awful condition because for some reason she always threw away the sleeves they came in and just stacked them up like plates. Another thing she always did was write her name on the record label, often actually sticking it on a piece of paper (see above). Apparently this was so they didn't get stolen when she took them to parties, she told me she lost a Sammy Davis Jr. album that way. I never knew she hung out with such shady characters.

There was a definite Spanish/Latin influence in the "adult" easy pop of the 60s and among my mother's 45s were records by Jose Feliciano, The Sandpipers, Sergio Mendes, Antonio Carlos Jobim, and Herb Alpert. Like a bottle of Mateus Rosé, this music brought a flavour of international jet-set sophistication into the lives of the first English generation for whom "abroad" and "Italian Restaurant" weren't just places rich people went. Sadly, nowadays "adult" music means the likes of Sting and Norah Jones, the only place they want to take you is a Starbucks.

Chris Montez's 1966 hit "The More I See You" is a record I've known by heart seemingly my entire life, and is probably the song I most closely associate with my mother (and I'm ever so slightly freaked out to realize that she was only 31 when it came out). It isn't that overtly Latin, but it has the warm, sand-between-your-toes feeling of being in some exotic beach paradise and Montez's light voice has an almost feminine quality which adds to the air of sexy languor. From those opening xylophone notes I picture my mother back then, looking like Dusty Springfield with her blonde hair and heavily made-up eyes, in a brightly-coloured mini-dress and a Cinzano Bianco in her hand.

Download: The More I See You - Chris Montez (mp3)
Buy: "Call Me: The A&M Years" (album)