Kevin Spacey
In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning: Frank Sinatra
This is one of the greatest numbers that Sinatra ever recorded at Capitol
Records. It is a moody, late-night kind of song you’d expect to hear in a
blues bar or jazz joint. The kind where smoke drifts through the single
spotlight on the stage and a crowd leans in to hear the tale of a lost love.
It’s a dreamy and effective number and, as sung by Frank, a deeply moving
interpretation.
I first heard it when I was about 5, as my mother was a great fan of Sinatra,
and so I grew up in a home with these kind of great standards playing all
the time. Listening to it now brings back so many memories of my first
introduction to the great music and players of the past. I’ve also had the
chance to sing it with a big band and it is one of those numbers that I find
truly moving and poignant to perform. I say you couldn’t do better than to
put a log on the fire, stir up a warm drink, curl up with your favourite
person and let Frank take you to another time, where clarity of voice and
the rhythm of violins sweep away the winter night.
Cerys Matthews
How Can I Keep from Singing?: Robert Wadsworth Lowry
In 2001 it was my first year of going solo and I was embarking on a brand new
journey. It was a very exciting time for me, but anything new puts you out
of your comfort zone. I think that when you are in this position, it’s nice
to have things that are comforting.
One of these things was the hymn How Can I Keep from Singing?, which I
found in an old book. I am always collecting them and have hundreds of
genres. What I particularly look at are the guitar chords to see if I like
the melody and also the words. I love the melody of this piece but it is the
words that get me: “No storm can shake my inmost calm/ While to that refuge
clinging./ Since Christ is Lord of Heav’n and Earth/ How can I keep from
singing?” I performed this song in front of Bill Clinton at the Hay-on-Wye
Literary Festival. It was my first public show and I thought it would be
nice to sing him something that would resonate with his country’s history as
it became popular during the American Civil War.
Tony Blair
Gounod's Ave Maria: Renée Fleming
This is my favourite version of a beautiful song. The song itself is
extraordinary, full of poignant emotion, building to a dramatic climax. She
sings it magnificently. It matters to me because, at a time when a close
friend was dying, I used to play it, and the peace and serenity of it was a
source of comfort. Usually, I am — even after all these years — in thrall to
rock’n’ roll. This is an exception. But then it is an exceptional piece of
music.
Al Pacino
You’ve Got to be Carefully Taught: Rodgers and Hammerstein
You’ve Got to be Carefully Taught is from that great musical South
Pacific, by Rodgers and Hammerstein. I remember going to the show with
my elementary school. It was a crucial time in our country’s history, when
the racial tension in the South was raging and the play was a direct
reference to it. The musical made such an impression on me at a very young
age, especially this song. I thought it had a real passion in it and a
relevance to the times we were living in with segregation as a main issue.
To me it was an attack on racism and prejudice of all kinds. It had a real
value and for something like that to appear in a romantic musical gave it
additional power, since it wasn’t expected. I liked it so much then and
always have.
Richard E. Grant
Incy Wincy Spider
I’ve always loved spiders, always been inspired by this childhood ditty that
is all about never giving up however bad the odds are against you. By sheer
perseverance, trial and error, it’s possible to attempt anything. Just like
Incy Wincy Spider.
Bill Nighy
Things Have Changed: Bob Dylan
The fact that I find this song inspiring could indicate that I am not in very
good shape, given that it contains some grim observations of how bad things
can get. What is uplifting, apart from its general brilliance, is that it is
thrilling to know that you are not alone in these matters. It’s also, as his
songs often are, amusing. Any song containing the couplet “Feel like falling
in love with the first woman I meet/ putting her in a wheelbarrow and
wheeling her down the street” is more than fine with me. There is absolutely
nothing wrong with this song. It is perfect. It obviously appeals to my
isolationist tendency, but at least it swings. The refrain is an anthem for
people like myself, who should probably get out more.
Ozzy Osbourne
A Whiter Shade of Pale: Procol Harum
This may surprise most people who are well aware of my complete and utter
obsession with the Beatles, but when I sat down and really thought about my
favourite song of all time, I think I even shocked myself by choosing the
Procol Harum classic, A Whiter Shade of Pale. To this day I do not
know what the lyrics are about, but when I hear that haunting melody on the
Hammond organ I immediately become transfixed.
I remember about four or five years ago I was in my home studio with my
producer, working up a list of songs that I wanted to record for an album of
rock covers which we later titled Uncovered. A Whiter Shade of Pale
was at the very top of my list, when I was made aware of the fact that a
close musical associate of mine had just recorded the song for his new
album. It would have been odd for me to record it then so I took my pen and
put a big fat line through the title. Oh well . . . I’m hoping to get around
to recording the song one day for a movie soundtrack or maybe just for my
own pleasure!
Michael Sheen
Song to the Siren: Tim Buckley
First of all it’s a beautiful song and it always makes me cry. The thing it
makes me think of is my daughter, and I remember hearing it first not long
after she was born. There’s a line in it — “Swim to me, Let me enfold you” —
and it just makes me think of my daughter swimming to me, her being born and
me being away from her. It’s also a very sad song. The lyrics are beautiful
and poetic but it’s slightly unclear as to what’s going on. It’s the siren
call that people find hard to resist and it’s about not being able to stop
yourself doing something that’s going to be bad for you, destructive for
you. There’s a kind of terrible beauty to the song which I love.
Lyrically it’s great, musically it’s beautiful and I love all the different
versions of it. There’s a very good version by This Mortal Coil, probably
the most well-known version. There are techno versions, trance versions,
folk versions — all kinds of stuff. It’s just a wonderful song. The very
first version I heard was by a Northern Irish Elvis Presley impersonator and
that’s my favourite version, sung in the style of Elvis Presley. I’ve used
it many times when I’m filming and I need to cry in a scene. Sometimes it’s
very hard to come up with the tears so I plug in my iPod and listen to this
and that tends to get me in the right place.
Inspired* by music, with photographs by Cambridge Jones, is sponsored
by Starbucks Coffee Company and will be sold in Starbucks coffee houses
across the UK and all other book retailers from July 10. Starbucks will
donate 100 per cent of the profits to the Prince’s Trust
