Psychedelia? Paul Simon? Her recently revealed record collection contains a few surprises After John Peel died, fans were excited to learn about a special longbox in which he kept the heart of his record collection – an eclectic set of 7in singles with a beloved tune for any conceivable occasion. Revealed at the weekend, the Queen Mum’s record collection – around 100 albums she kept at the Castle of Mey , her Highlands retreat – gives royal watchers a similar opportunity to reconstruct a life through music. How much can it really tell us, though? It’s easy to focus on the surprise inclusions – Paul Simon’s Graceland, for instance, the collection’s one concession to post-1940s pop music. But as anyone who has ever bought presents for grannies will realise, their record collections have a habit of picking up oddities along the way. For all we know the presence of Graceland implies nothing more than Edward or Andrew making a last-minute birthday visit to the John Menzies shop in Inverness. Despite that, a couple of entries really are puzzling. Moddan’s Bower by Mirk may be rooted in traditional Scottish folk but it’s also a highly prized psychedelic rarity, getting a glowing review on a site called Lysergia. And how to explain Keith Jarrett’s exploration of jazz and contemporary classical music, Arbour Zena? Abandoned by a passing European bicycle monarch in the late-70s, perhaps? The bulk of the records are easier to understand. There is a lot of Scottish music – traditional singers such as Jean Redpath, collections of folk tunes and reels. The extent of it suggests that the Queen Mother’s affection for this was genuine: more care seems to have gone into selecting the folk component of the collection than the cursory section given over to English classical music. These are social records – things to put on when guests are over, as they very often were. Record collections before the rock era were often an extension of performed or parlour music, not necessarily a well-sculpted expression of individual taste. But one part of the collection does seem more personal – records by variety singers, music hall performers and jazz orchestras from the inter-war years. Alongside bandleaders Glenn Miller and Paul Whiteman are mostly forgotten names – comedienne Beatrice Lillie, pianist Charlie Kunz. This is the music she grew up with, and kept with her till she died – the music that shows the Queen Mother not as hostess, or royal, but as pop fan. What the Queen Mum listened to – and what she should have She owned: Edith Piaf – La Vie En Rose. Iconic chanteuse, a fixture of every postwar gramophone collection. She should have owned: Grace Jones – Island Life. Includes a radical revision of La Vie En Rose. Jones may not have had Piaf’s pipes but her imperious demeanour would have struck a royal chord. She owned: Wilf Carter – Christmas In Canada. The Godfather of Canadian C&W, Carter enjoyed a long career but was best known for his yodelling numbers. She should have owned: Jimmie Rodgers – Blue Yodel. Country music’s greatest yodeller, Rogers recorded no less than 11 lonesome Blue Yodel songs before dying of TB in 1933. She owned: Despers Steel Orchestra. Venerable steelband from Trinidad known for their imaginative orchestrations of classical pieces. She should have owned: Prince Buster – FABulous Greatest Hits. A reputed love of ska is sadly underrepresented in the collection. And he’s a fellow royal! Queen Mother Monarchy Tom Ewing guardian.co.uk