So farewell, George Martin, famed producer of The Vipers Skiffle Group!

But, of course, George Martin is probably better known for his work with...

My favourite story songs, Part 2: from Creedence and Kassenetz-Katz to Sufjan Stevens and Fairport Convention

Jimmy Rodgers to Stevie Ray Vaughan - twelve terrific tunes toasting Texas

Thomas Sowell once mocked alarmist claims about the threat of overpopulation by pointing out that every single person on earth would fit into the state of Texas - in fact, given the Obama administration's love affair with illegals and its unwillingness to protect America's borders, I'm not sure the experiment hasn't already begun. Having once travelled across Texas in a Greyhound bus, I can quite believe Sowell's claim: damn thing seemed to go on forever. The only city I spent any time in was San Antonio, which was pretty, and I seem to remember stopping off in Dallas - but if I did, I can remember nothing about it. The problem is, I love greenery and hills and sea and geographical diversity - and all I remember about Texas (at least, what I saw of it) was endless, monotonous flatness unleavened apart from the occasional cow, oil derrick or truck-stop.

My fifteen favourite Bob Dylan tracks

I listened to an awful lot of Bob Dylan tracks before writing my post on The Basement Tapes, and, as it's my wife's turn to host her book group and I'm stuck in my top-floor eyrie this evening, I've been messing about coming up with a list of my favourites. I've gone for performances rather than songs - i.e. this isn't primarily about hipster coolness or political messages or about songs that changed the direction of popular music: these are the Bob Dylan tracks I still listen to for sheer, instant, visceral enjoyment. There's nothing after 1973 (although I have practically everything he's released since then), and there's a preponderance of tracks from his magnificent quartet of mid-to-late-'60s masterpiece LPs.

The great, lost ‘60s’ album wasn’t “Smile” – it was Bob Dylan's "Bottle of Bread"

Today saw (yet another) release of highlights from The Basement Tapes, the recordings Dylan made with his old backing group, the Hawks, in Woodstock in 1967, when he'd dropped out of sight following a motorbike accident (at least, that was his story - his disappearance may simply have been the result of cumulative drug-induced frazzlement). I first heard some of the songs in, I think, 1969 when a friend who loved Dylan but didn't seem to enjoy or understand any other music bought the grand-daddy of all bootleg recordings, Great White Wonder. I wasn’t hugely impressed, but, then, it’s usually taken my ears a while to attune themselves to Bob Dylan’s stuff.

A dozen of my favourite car songs which mention brand names and are mostly about cars

The first time I heard "Jaguar and Thunderbird" was on the Chuck Berry On Stage LP in a friend's bedroom in Thornton Road, Wimbledon, circa 1964 (the album was released in '63). The long-player consisted of 13 already released tracks with a fake announcement at the start and audience noise throughout (my friend actually figured out the subterfuge - not bad for a 13-year old). Presumably Berry's record company decided to recycle his old stuff in this way because he was in prison for transporting a 14-year old girl across a state line. "Maybelline" was on the same album, but I've always preferred "Jaguar and Thunderbird":

A list of my favourite pop music tracks from each iTune category - I don't waste my Sundays!

Four things convinced me to fritter away Sunday afternoon on the singularly pointless task of choosing my favourite (not necessarily the best) song in each of my self-created iTunes categories: (a) the Telegraph is running a two-part "500 Must-Have Music Tracks" this weekend, which got me pondering, (2) Whispering Bob Harris was on Desert Island Discs this morning, and I found myself singing along to most of his picks, (3) I spent most of last week writing articles for an actual print magazine, which, given the slothfulness of my normal existence, was surprisingly like hard work, and (4) I needed a mindless reward for having recently completed a week-long wheat exclusion diet, and having subsequently started a lactose-exclusion one (don't ask).

Cecil Ingram Bastardo sprinkles some magic dust over The Fulminators' version of "Train Leaves Here This Morning"

So farewell then, J.J. Cale – thank you for being so absolutely ridiculously brilliant

If you love Sixties US pop music, you’re a fan of drummer Hal Blaine – whether you’ve heard of him or not

No, honestly - Hal Blaine was so brilliant, so versatile and so ubiquitous, I guarantee that you know and love dozens of the records he played on. Elvis, the Beach Boys, Mamas and Papas, The Byrds, Frank Sinatra, Simon & Garfunkel, Sam Cooke, anything produced by Phil Spector, Johnny Rivers, Roy Orbison, Johnny Rivers, some Love tracks, Richard Harris (okay – that’s stretching it!)… well, you get the idea. He was everywhere!

The Fender Telecaster is THE electric guitar – no ifs, ands or buts: here’s the proof...

Sixty-three years old, devoid of airs and graces, solid as a rock, plain as a pikestaff, sporting two picks-ups, two “pots” (volume and treble), a three-way selector switch – and nothing else (unless you’re Country picker and get one with a B-bender, so you can use your elbow to raise the B-string a tone to C-sharp, resulting in twangtastic mayhem). The Telecaster is the manly, no frills Ur-guitar. Obviously there are many other makes which do certain things better – crunchier, sweeter, fatter, janglier, jazzier etc – but the Tele’s versatility is without parallel: it features on everything from “Suzie Q” to Tubular Bells to the “Stairway to Heaven” solo.

Head Down No Nonsense Mindless Pub Rock – my favourite examples

Worth it just for the drummer!

Hulk! Choke! Sob! – my favourite rock and roll, country and soul tribute songs

Grady Martin: rockabilly pioneer and doyen of Nashville guitar-pickers

Scrub my last music post – 1972 was almost as good as 1971 for albums, even better for singles!

Okay, I’ve got my excuses ready. The reason I was so wrong about 1972 is… the cat ate my homework! Will that do? Oh, the hell with it – I just got so over-excited by becoming re-acquainted with the glories of 1971, that I began dissing its younger brother without doing proper research. Truth is, ’72 – bless it! – was only a gnat’s behind ’71 in terms of albums, and actually ahead when it comes to singles.  The singles list alone is actually awe-inspiring – and I thought the early ’70s was meant to be the era of the long-player.

"Close Up the Honky Tonks" by The Flying Bastardo Brothers

If you hate Country Music, you're plumb wrong - here's the proof!

Country music in the Sixties used to mean dreary old Countrypolitan snoozers like Jim Reeves and Eddie Arnold, placid middle-aged men who dressed like business executives. Occasionally, you’d catch sight of someone in more traditional Western garb on TV, but they’d be so saccharine you’d need a shot of insulin to avoid a coma. Besides, Country was where old white rockers went to die after the British Invasion (after recanting and claiming they’d really always hated Rock ‘n’ Roll). 

James Burton: the self-effacing guitar genius who changed music