On 11 June the BBC is, for some anniversary I can’t quite work out, commemorating Desert Island Discs. As part of it they have invited Joe and Joanne Public to submit their eight choices (Your Desert island Discs).

I’ve always thought that being on Desert Island Discs would be the coolest thing about being famous – much better than a knighthood.

It’s the soundtrack of your life on Radio 4. The ultimate honour.

But how could I choose eight tracks from well over 20,000 on shelves and hard drives?

How could I leave out The Smiths, Led Zeppelin, The Faces, The Kinks, The Who, Talking Heads, The Clash, Peter Gabriel, Free, Lindisfarne, Kathryn Tickell, The Animals, Paul Weller, The Jam, Underworld, The Arctic Monkeys, Linton Kwesi Johnson, The Islay Brothers, The Temptations, The Four Tops, New Order, David Bowie, Roxy Music, John Martyn, Madonna, Prince, Kylie or even Lady Gaga or especially Bob Dylan?

That’s without mentioning Mozart or Beethoven or Albinoni. Classical music fans get to take entire symphonies or six hour Wagner operas – just as well then that most of these are only available as album tracks – it’s Desert Island Discs remember, not Desert Island Downloads – by implication you must get the album!

But Desert Island Discs is about the tunes that chime with key moments of your life, not just your ‘favourites’. The people who are best on it are sometimes the ones that surprise – we would expect Debbie Harry to have really cool tunes but the likes of Geoffrey Howe or Hugh Fernley-Whittingstall were unexpected pleasures. The politicians I hate on it are the ones who have their researchers look out a list that’s ‘on message’. Sod that for a game of soldiers – music is about passion, emotion, loss, pain, joy and most of all about being in love. So great though they all are my eight would have to be great music but also the tunes that mean the most to me – what else would you have to keep you sane in your isolation.

This is the eight I submitted – with some of that new new fangled You Tube stuff. Ten years ago it would have been a very different list.

The Rolling Stones, Gimme Shelter

from Let It Bleed

My mother was terrified by everything about the 60s. She was especially terrified of The Stones. She didn’t mind the Beatles. That made The Stones much more interesting.

Lou Reed, Caroline Says II

from Berlin

Lou Reed’s Berlin was the perfect accompaniment to teen angst but a beautiful, hopeful tune as tunes about drug abuse, child neglect and domestic violence go. Lou was a staple of my sixth for common room.

Fairport Convention, Farewell, Farewell

from Leige and Lief

Farewell, Farewell kills several birds with one stone. It features the divine voice of the late Sandy Denny, was written by Richard Thompson, who knew the score on loss and is my all-time favourite guitarist. Leige and Lief was Fairport Convention’s greatest work and a landmark in British traditional music. A discovery of my time at University when you absorb so much in so many ways.

Joy Division, Love Will Tear Us Apart,

12″ single

“When routine bites hard and ambitions are low, when resentment rides high but emotions won’t grow  and we’re changing our ways, taking different roads, love, love will tear us apart, again”. Could there be anything more true.  I had a brilliant coat at the time that I bought at Flip, a US vintage store long gone from Long Acre at Covent Garden. It was identical to the coat Ian Curtis is wearing in the photo by Kevin Cummings. 30 years later it was one of the first songs I helped re-arrange and played in front of an audience.

Faithless, God is A DJ

from Sunday 8pm

I left the house at 5am one Sunday morning to drive to a meeting in Manchester. I was dog tired. The meeting was going to be grim duty. I put on Radio One to help me stay awake. This track came on and I was belatedly turned me on to what people call dance music – ‘house’ and the like. God is a DJ represents an entire uplifting, joyous genre I couldn’t now be without.

REM, Wall of Death

from Beat The Retreat – Songs by Richard Thompson

Despite the title, a joyous, bittersweet Richard Thompson love song and a chime for many reasons and many people. Covered here by REM, a band who also chime with a whole load of times, places, magnificent gigs and unconvincing attempts to cover their tunes.

Blinded By The Lights The Streets

from A Grand Don’t Come For Free

Mike Skinner’s A Grand Don’t Come For Free: Another chime. I brought the album home on the day of its release, lay on the sofa with son Jamie and listened. We were both blown away. I saw The Streets at several Reading Festivals where they were always on top form. Earlier this year Jamie and I independently bought tickets to the same Streets gig. Skinner was the poetic voice of a generation. Both my children love music. How could it have been different?

The Stone Roses, I Am The Resurrection

from The Stone Roses

About being young and in love and feeling young because you’re in love. What more can I say other than what a tight band they were.

The BBC didn’t ask about a book or a luxury. Catch 22 I think and Keats Poetical Works instead of the Bible. My Stratocaster, Deville 212 and pedal board (they are all one instrument really) than I can play or learn the ones I couldn’t take. If they wouldn’t allow me that it would have to be chocolate!

The one to keep when the others wash away: Love Will Tear Us Apart.