Rummaging through a box of cassettes last week, I came across a mixtape I compiled in the late 1980s or early 1990s. It’s called “No More Songs”, after the Phil Ochs song.

Listening to the tape again after many years, I was reminded of the people, places and events associated with first hearing these songs – working at a second record shop in London where some of these songs were on regular rotation; watching Dustin Hoffman in “The Graduate”; seeing a clip of Tim Buckley on “The Monkees” TV show; watching Dustin Hoffman (again) in “Midnight Cowboy”; recommendations from knowledgable friends (notably Big Star, Phil Ochs and Nick Drake).

I can hear some common themes across these tracks. Certainly, there is a river of melancholy running through this music, which may have resonated with my mood at that time. The fact that several of these artists had died at a relatively young age (and of course, several more have passed away since) may contribute to that sense of sad reflection. While many of the songs might be deemed folk music, they aren’t the typical “troubadour with acoustic guitar” that inundates the genre – and they certainly aren’t typical blues-based rock either. If anything, the music is more baroque or chamber pop. There’s an absence of guitar solos, and not many drums either. Even though these singers may not be technically perfect (and they don’t indulge in the vocal gymnastics made popular by TV talent shows), they know how to use their voices, which actually makes them sound more authentic and more moving as a result. The power and beauty in these performances comes from artists who know their vocal limitations, and from the resulting display of fragility.

There’s probably a negative reaction to grunge rock reflected in this choice of songs. Not all grunge was bad, but like punk before it, there were so many pale imitators and wannabes that it made sense to seek refuge and relief from the noise and attrition of grunge. (A similar reaction happened after punk, when artists like The Durutti Column, Prefab Sprout, Microdisney, Young Marble Giants and Everything But The Girl heralded a welcome respite from punk, adopting “quiet is the new loud” as a kind of informal manifesto.)

Some of these songs are mainstream, and appeared in the charts at the time of their release in the 1960s and 1970s – otherwise they are lesser-known but enduring classics. A couple were popularised through cover versions, and many of these artists benefitted from critical re-appraisals and renewed audience engagement via retrospectives, reissues and archive releases. In particular, the influential compendium “It’ll End In Tears” (and subsequent volumes) helped to raise awareness around much of this music.

They all still sound wonderful to me. Here is the track list in full – enjoy!:

Side A:

1. Buffalo Springfield: Expecting To Fly
2. The Byrds: Everybody’s Been Burned
3. Glen Campbell: By The Time I Get To Phoenix
4. Nico: Eulogy To Lenny Bruce
5. Tim Buckley: Song To The Siren
6. Simon & Garfunkel: Sounds Of Silence
7. Fred Neil: The Dolphins
8. Nick Drake: Northern Sky
9. Tim Hardin: Lady Came From Baltimore
10. Big Star: Blue Moon

Side B:

1. Big Star: Take Care
2. Glen Campbell: Wichita Lineman
3. Nancy Sinatra & Lee Hazlewood: Some Velvet Morning
4. Tim Buckley: Morning Glory
5. Fred Neil: Everybody’s Talking
6. Nick Drake: Pink Moon
7. Nico: These Days
8. Tim Hardin: Reason To Believe
9. Big Star: Holocaust
10. Phil Ochs: No More Songs

Next week: More unearthed mixtapes