Richard Jobson

CHIEF SKID, FILMMAKER, WRITER

What are you currently grooving to?

Stuff from parts of my own life that I didn’t really connect with at the time – mad stuff like Einstürzende Neubauten. And one of the most seminal bands from Manchester, Magazine – [1978 debut] Real Life actually was a game-changer. Also The Clockworks, a band from Ireland I like a lot.

Your favourite record of all time?

Berlin by Lou Reed. It had everything for me. It’s a violent, romantic album, and it has a terrible end, of course, with a suicide. I guess, with what happened to me in Berlin [where Jobson’s partner took her own life in the early ’80s], maybe that’s why it means even more to me now. I play it every week.

What was the first record you ever bought? And where did you buy it?

The Sensational Alex Harvey Band’s Next from Sandy Muir’s Record Shop in Dunfermline, with money I earned from picking potatoes.

Which musician, other than yourself, have you ever wanted to be?

Like any teenage boy caught in the world of hating where he came from and feeling alienated, David Bowie. He created a fantasy journey, which became his reality. He means so much to me. After Hunky Dory,

I never left.

What do you sing in the shower?

I end up singing songs that I hate. I’ve been using shower-time to learn songs, and yesterday I had a go at I Wanna Be Your Dog, and it morphs into something by fucking Atomic Kitten or the fucking Boomtown Rats.

What is your favourite Saturday night record?

Something with an elegance and beauty about it. I love how a Mogwai track has a tender, achingly beautiful beginning and then becomes this fucking crescendo that bashes your ears to shit.

And your Sunday morning record?

I learned this from Steve Severin when we shared a flat – start with

Brian Eno’s Music For Airports, and your day just gets better. And Max Richter’s a mainstay in my life.

Skids’ Songs From A Haunted Ballroom is out now on Cleopatra.