Of all the albums I owned in the days before Motorhead, Out of the Blue was certainly the one that had the longest lasting affect on me. If you asked me to name any albums from before my heavy metal Damascus (In late 1979) I'm sure I could name very few. And I suspect that the only one that was a real album, as opposed to compilations, was the Electric Light Orchestra's finest hour.
I spent too much of last night lying awake with Mr Blue Sky swimming around my head and so decided that today was the day I should reacquaint myself with Out of the Blue, I wanted to hold the album with its colourful gatefold sleeve and its gorgeous blue vinyl (and the space station cut-out I'd forgotten about). Sadly holding it was out of the question, I'd guess it's getting tatty and dusty in my dad's shed with too much of my past.
So the next best thing to holding and stroking and smelling was to give it a listen. So I headed over to we7 and settled in for a morning wallowing in the lush and layerd (and over-lush and over-layered) album of my past. I enjoyed it much more than I expected to. With metal came a dismissal of all that went before, and ELO where probably the most thoroughly shut out. I would suggest that I haven't heard the whole of OotB since I first heard Overkill.
I'll not leave it so long again.