From Hunky Dory. Not the one everyone plays at retrospectives. Dreamier, more patient, like Bowie decided for one track not to be famous.
People hear "Supertramp" and think stadium rock. This is the opposite: an acoustic thing from Even in the Quietest Moments that sounds like it was recorded on a porch.
A Dylan cover, and it feels almost rude to say Harrison makes it so entirely his own. From All Things Must Pass, an album that rewards you every time you go back to it.
Some songs exist purely to be fun. This is one of them.
From Ram, the album he made after the Beatles that a lot of people didn't know what to do with at the time. Folky and strange and, somehow, exactly right.
Music that doesn't ask for your attention and ends up holding it anyway. Jazzy and unhurried.
From Forever Changes, an album people with good taste mention quietly, like a password.
The Stones slowed everything down and got bluesy and patient. From Sticky Fingers, and maybe the best thing on it.
I couldn't tell you why this one stuck. I've tried to explain it to people and failed every time.
Not the Fleetwood Mac you're thinking of. The earlier, stranger one, atmospheric, a little hypnotic, nothing like The Chain.
I find this song comforting. It sounds like someone telling you, not aggressively, that things will probably be okay.
A two parter that goes places. I included it partly because it's wild and partly because it'll make you feel like you know something the other people at the dinner party don't.
Rod Stewart, before everything, in a band called the Faces, on a deeply gentle song about his dad. I don't want to oversell it. Just listen to it.
Hull was from Newcastle. He wrote songs that sounded like weather. I found this one on a forum thread at 11pm once and haven't stopped thinking about it since.
I know, it's not the seventies. I put it in anyway. A collaboration nobody expected, and that's the spirit of the whole playlist.