Every so often a song comes along - and no matter how many times you play it - ten, a hundred, a thousand - it gives you that strange, almost overwhelming feeling. You know, the hairs on your neck start to bristle, your spine tingles, you get that goose-bump feeling up your arms and maybe you get the urge to just close your eyes and let the song hit you.
It might be that it evokes a particular mood, or takes you back to a particular moment in time - it could be some masterfully crafted music, or some evocative lyrics - or some combination of all of these.
Here are ten songs that give me that feeling, no matter how often I listen to them.
1. I Will Follow - U2
For those who think U2 is all shiny leather and messianic posturing, I am here to tell you to listen to the first five albums. Okay, most people are aware how good the Joshua Tree (#5) is, but the four records that precede it are perhaps just as good. So, let me take you back to the first album - Boy - and one of their early singles. This U2 was a much more naïve and raw version that the one we saw as the millenniums switched, the guitars more strident and the songs really ring out.
As with all good live bands, U2 could take a great studio track and elevate it to another level in front of a good crowd. Which is why I have gone with this, the Red Rocks version, from the 83 War tour. Bono ambles off stage, before The Edge cranks it up to 11 and he skips back on, a look of sheer joy on his face (which is reflected in mine, when I watch this).
2. All Or Nothing - Small Faces
A lot was made about how Steve Winwood had the best of the white, male voices of the 60s - and sure, if you take him just on his 60s output (Gimme Some Lovin, Keep On Running), and ignore the whiny 80s crap, there is some credence to that argument. People will also quite rightly talk about Scott Walker in this bracket.
But this ignores Steve Marriott, who I believe has the most underrated voice of that era (and perhaps any era). Possibly he was written off because some of the Small Faces songs, like Lazy Sunday, could be seen as a bit of a novelty. But if you overlook (and under listen) him, you miss out. All Or Nothing starts with a crackle of guitar and builds from there, Marriott's voice is rich and resonant, but as the song heads towards its climax, he opens up the throttle and you get the full, raw sound. This song leaves me breathless every time.
3. Lover, You Should've Come Over - Jeff Buckley
On an album (Grace) that was full of goosebump inducing tracks, this is the one that stands out for me. From the opening swirl of organ and the resonance of those first chords, left hanging in the air, to Buckley's soaring voice, this song is elegant and beautiful.
4. Distant Sun - Crowded House
You may know by now that I hold Neil Finn to be a musical genius. There are so few that can wrap melody, hook and lyric together like he can. And to be fair, this song could be an absolute duffer, but I would still love it for one line - "I don't pretend to know what you want, but I offer love" - that is so simple, yet so staggeringly and achingly beautiful; a sentiment we might all be able to relate to.
Luckily, the song is not a duffer. It is a sweet tune that is elevated both by his lyrics and by the harmonies that overlap and lift the chorus up. I'm a sucker for good harmonies (see also song #7).
5. Here Today - Paul McCartney
This is a tough one. I guess the story will explain best why it is on this list for me.
In 2003, my best friend Andrew died, just shy of his 30th birthday. As I was gathering my thoughts and writing some stuff down to send to his wife and young daughter, I remembered this song. It comes from McCartney's Tug Of War album, recorded in the aftermath of John Lennon's murder. Here Today was his ode to his best friend and he admitted to crying while writing it, and I cried as I copied the lyrics into my letter (and a little bit now too).
"But as for me, I still remember how it was before, and I am holding back the tears no more."
"And if I say I really loved you and was glad you came along, then you were here today."
The coda to this: I went to see McCartney live just a few months later, at Earl's Court, and he played this song, with a moving intro - and the rawness hit me again.
6. Into Your Arms: Lemonheads
Sometimes, simple is so much better. This song is the epitome of that. Three chords and not many lyrics and yet, and yet - wow. Evan Dando took all the good jangly bits of late 60s hippy-psychedelic rock and discarded the sugary, spaced out crappy stuff, stripped it back and left us with this beauty of a song.
7. God Only Knows: The Beach Boys
Much attention has been placed over the years on Good Vibrations, as Brian Wilson's magnum opus. Now, I do love that song, but sometimes it can feel like it is a tad over-produced and he was trying to cram as much new technology into it as he could.
God Only Knows is so much simpler and perhaps better off for that. Beach Boys vocals were often things of intense beauty and for that reason, many could fall into the goosebump category - but this is possibly one of the best examples. The last thirty seconds of this is just sublime (though you might want to close your eyes, so you don't have to look at the ridiculous thing on Mike Love's head!).
8. Bye Bye Pride: The Go-Betweens
There are not many songs with an oboe break that would leave me in raptures. So, Bye Bye Pride might break the mould on that front.
There is something about the combination of the music and the lyrics that I find so evocative, maybe of a hazy Queensland weekend afternoon (the music video really helps too). Again, the way the vocals layer up here is what gets to me, sitting over a simple acoustic melody line, they seem to expand and resonate. Gosh - I love this song.
9. Hunter and the Hunted: Simple Minds
Now, the album version of this has the mind-blowing Herbie Hancock hammond organ solo on it, which is spine tingling in itself. But there is something about watching live performances of this from that time, where the band somehow sonically turn the tune up to 11, yet maintain the fragility and mystery of the album version. I find this version from Newcastle, at the end of 1982, to be just magical.
10. Fields Of Fire: Big Country
People often talk about the gigs they wish they had been at - Queen at Wembley in 86, Zeppelin at Knebworth in the late 70s, The Stones in Hyde Park etc.
But my one is this - a bit less grandiose - but Big Country at the Barrowlands Ballroom in Glasgow, New Year's Eve 1983. The band had been riding a wave of perhaps unexpected success, off the back of their debut album, The Crossing. And while Steve Lillywhite had done a great job of salvaging that record, which had left the original producer bemused, trying to deal with Stuart Adamson's wailing guitar and dark lyrics, in an age becoming dominated by cool, poppy synths - playing live was their real strength.
I have never seen a band with such power as them, like a force of nature. I never got to see them in these early years, but I have seen this gig on TV and video many a time. There is none of the drama or tension that would come into play from time to time, in later years, from Adamson's bouts of alcoholism and depression, or when members temporarily left. This gig is pure power and joy. You can see the sweat dripping from the ceiling and when the camera pans, it is across a seething mass of reverential, blissfully happy Scots. You believe the roof will blow off from the relentless energy - you can actually sense the floor bouncing through the TV.
I could have picked almost any track from this gig - but went with this one - Adamson warms the crowd up with the call and response, '400 miles', then '1-2-3-4' and the place erupts!