Old Money Tories & Their Quality Cast-offs

Remembering what music first moved you is a bit like when Princess Diana died and 9/11 happened – you know where you were. At least I do. The strange thing is, I have the Conservative Party to thank for my very rich memory.

(I have made links explaining some old term and words in the unlikely event of a Gen Z stumbling onto this website). 

Photo by Iain Cridland on Unsplash

I was about 9 years old and it was a Saturday morning the day of the Conservative Party Jumble Sale in our village, (although in Leicestershire they were called Rummage Sales – don’t ask). It was common knowledge that the Conservative Party Rummage Sale was the crown in the village rummage sale calendar. Everyone made sure they went because it was the occasion when the big houses got rid of all their junk – and their junk was quality.

You must remember this is Leicestershire, Charnwood Forest, Quorn Hunt country. This is traditional, ‘Old Money’ Tories with big houses on the edge of the village. My dad always said that if they put a blue rosette on a monkey around here it would get elected, and it was true.

So I turned up for the rummage sale early. Remarkably the same four old women were at the front of the queue. They always were the first at every rummage sale. They would bang on the door with impatience and celebrate being first in line by grinning at the kids. These days such a grin would result in the kids getting a PTSD diagnosis because these women had few teeth in their mouths. It was a shocking experience for the kids – poorer folk didn’t have dentures in those days.

So the doors opened and there was the usual rush for the White Elephant. Being a youngster I was able to squeeze to the front and there I found 2 LP records (not 78s) one by Mozart and the other Beethoven. I knew these were ‘classical’ composers so bought them with no further ado because, of course, they would be quality.

It was the Mozart clarinet concerto and I had no idea what was about to happen. Looking back I was glad to have the house to myself at least everyone else was outside in the garden. You see, I made a mistake, rather than putting on Side 1, I put Side 2 on, it was the second movement.

Sitting on the floor next to the record player this most sublime melody emerged. I had never heard anything so absolutely beautiful. I had difficulty breathing I was being gripped by a power I had previously not know existed and I was totally helpless. The clarinet wove that well known simple and tragic tune up in fifths and then tumbling down the scale. Maybe it was that this incredible music gave direct access to all the injustice, suffering and tragedy of the world or was it the presence of divinity? Tears immediately sprang and I began to sob. I was transfixed for the whole movement.

That was the first time a piece of music arrested me in such a powerful way. Since then there have been many times and in different ways music has overwhelmed and marked me. But maybe this is what beauty does to us. It scars us or maybe music marks us with an exquisite ache, like a sort of wounding but which also heals.

Here is the second movement of Mozart’s clarinet concerto

Why not write and tell me your earliest memory of music? I would love to hear about it. Do write in the comments below. It would be lovely to know what music it was and when it happened to you. 

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