Vinyl Nights

Moving furniture about in the sitting room has put me back in touch with my vinyl. For some forgotten reason I had it across the room from the turntable. Now they are reunited and, after balancing the stylus under Mike’s expert guidance, I have been enjoying an evening of glorious memories of the 12″ kind.
Mike used to run a shop up the road and rescued VCRs and other electrical gadgets from premature retirement. When he gave up the shop and became a man with a van, I was lucky enough to still have his mobile number. Today, I decided the non-functioning stylus arm had to be sorted. I rang Mike. His wife answered. He’s retired, she told me. My heart sank.
Fortunately Mike called me back and guided me through everything I needed to do. A hero.
So the rest of the day has been enlivened by spinning the discs.
I don’t care what you say about CDs, they do not have the quality of vinyl. There’s an immediacy, a rawness. As I write this sentence Billy Bragg is singing (sic) on Life’s a Riot , being the Milkman of Human Kindness. Continue reading