Alone on a desert island

I love the night life ...

If I were to be marooned on a desert island with only one music CD to listen to, what would it be? I’d want something uplifting. Something that would release me from my solitary malaise and give me enough scope for the times I want to dance, to sing, to be inspired or music simply to fill the silence.

I could choose the opera Tosca – by the time of my rescue and with a lot of practice under my belt (if I’ve got one), I just might have nailed my all time favourite aria Visi d’Arte. If I’m not rescued then perhaps,  as Tosca did, I’ll hit that top note and die with it on my lips.

So very very romantic.

But no, I don’t think that Tosca would be my choice – I need to dance. I need to throw my hands in the air with gay abondon. I need more.

So what’s it to be? Bach’s Mass in B Minor for elevating me to higher plains, Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto for emotional drama, Mozart’s Gran Partita for sheer beauty, Gin Wigmore to get me moving, Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake to get me dancing, Cold Play for emotional connection, the Beatles for nostalgia, the Rolling Stones for guts … or Duffy, Essential Classics, Rhianna?

Or a combination of the lot?

There are two movie soundtracks that I’m particularly fond of. One being that from Moonstruck (a Cher classic which has a good dose of classical), and the other from Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.

I guess you’ve deduced the winner … it’s a soundtrack I instantly select when I’m out walking and in need of a bit of a lift. It has everything.

Priscilla will cater to all my moods, help me when I need exercise to work off all that coconut milk, back me when I open my voice and sing to the heavens, comfort and soothe my aching soul. And for my perfect desert island outfit …

... I've got to boogie...


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