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Everybody loves the sound of sunshine

Updated: 2011-06-21 07:59

By John Clark (China Daily)

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Do you have a soundtrack of summers past?

What I mean is: Are there songs which conjure up memories of past summers, and the people, places, smells, tastes and emotions which made them memorable?

I do. Last summer was our first in Beijing. We visited the Lama Temple area. Blaring out of souvenir shops in Yonghegong street was a rhythmic Buddhist chant.

The song seemed to follow us from shop to shop. It's very catchy and soon we were humming along. Of course we didn't know what the words meant.

But the main chant sounded awfully like: "Oh my mammy bless my home."

Everybody loves the sound of sunshine

We made up other words, some rude. Later I found out the song is called Om Ma Ne Pad Me Hum and is sung in Tibetan. Strangely, it sounds like Gaelic.

That ubiquitous chant will always spark memories of the summer of 2010: sweltering heat, the smell of incense, aroma of spicy food, exhaust fumes, and the sight of saffron-robed Buddhist monks.

Now, rewind many years to when I was a teenager. The Kink's song Sunny Afternoon came out when my mother was expecting her fourth child. We were holidaying in a caravan near North Berwick. Nearby was Muirfield, the golf club hosting that year's Open Championship.

I was obsessed with golf and walked miles each day, watching the stars practice for and play in the tournament.

The Kinks' Sunny Afternoon is about a rich guy feeling sorry for himself. The "taxman's taken all my dough, and left me in my stately home, lazing on a sunny afternoon".

But it was the chorus that struck a chord with me. Remember, my mother was pregnant and bad tempered with it. The chorus goes: "Save me, save me, save me from the squeeze, I've got a big fat mama trying to break me".

It seemed to sum up my plight. But what Ray Davies of the Kinks was referring to was the then British Labor government's credit squeeze. Of course the "big fat mama" was the grasping government.

Fast-forward a number of years: I have three daughters, the youngest only 7 months. We're on our summer holiday in Banff in the north of Scotland. The sun is shining, baby Miriam is snoozing in her child seat on the back of my borrowed bicycle.

Our soundtrack of that holiday was Edwyn Collins' Never Met a Girl Like You Before. It seemed to get a lot of airplay. After 18 idyllic days at the seaside we headed home, straight into a downpour of rain. It was coming down like stair-rods. My windscreen wipers couldn't cope. I pulled over onto the hard shoulder until the storm passed. Playing on the radio was, you've guessed, Never Met a Girl.

The other week I was reading a news story online and came across a name that seemed familiar. I googled it and up came the photo of a EU commissioner. His hair was gray but there was no mistaking him. He was the elder brother of a former girlfriend.

I spotted his little sister on the London Underground. She got off at my stop. It turned out she worked round the corner from me. She was a dusky Mediterranean with a husky voice. I was captivated.

We spent a hot afternoon snogging in a London park. I was dazzled by her beauty and dazed by the sun. Months later, when we split, I was listening to Maria Muldaur's Midnight at the Oasis.

It always reminds me of her. I've got lots more summer soundtracks: Summer in the City, by the Lovin' Spoonful; Summertime, by Sam Cooke; Here Comes the Sun, by The Beatles. I could go on. Each one conjures up memories of a time, a place, perhaps a lover.

I wonder what the soundtrack of your summer will be this year?

China Daily

Everybody loves the sound of sunshine

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