2. Elvis PresleyElvis Presley
When my mum found the love of a good man, I would go, every Saturday with him and her, to his families house in Wythenshawe, south Manchester. They were a big Irish family, a fun family, there was always laughter and piss-taking and the door was always open to pretty much everyone on the street, which was quite an alien environment to be in considering I spent my first four years at the hands of a really lousy version of Josef Fritzl [laughs].
One of my dad’s brothers, Eamon, was a massive Elvis fan, he had loads of posters on his wall, a bust of Elvis’ head on his bedside table, loads of scrap books and what seemed like hundreds of Elvis records. He’d let me sit in his room, look at his scrapbooks and had shown me how to use his turntable. I’d sit up in his back bedroom on my own for hours, immersing myself in a world of Elvis, only coming down to get a cup of tea and a brown sauce butty. I think that’s when I first made best friends with music. I love all the 50’s Sun/RCA Presley records best.
