#1 It Started in America.
Posted: Tue May 04, 2021 8:48 pm
I thought it had started in America, that is to say “at” America.
But it started before that. A tragedy that stretched all the way across to the Beautiful South.
A sort of gradual dipping and leaning to the left. Subtle and unnoticed. Tectonic sagging that took two decades.
When I looked through the dust, in dim flickering torchlight, I was delighted the damage had begun after AC-DC. But my relief was short-lived. Disaster had befallen Adam and the Ants, Aerosmith, Aztec Camera and too many others in-between.
Some of the Beatles and all of the Beach Boys were victims, as well as Queen’s Sheer Heart Attack which had clearly been mis-filed one drunken night long ago.
Covers had been folded, some vinyl had been warped, as the thick cardboard, softened over time, had betrayed me and given way.
Heavy with resignation I lifted down the old movers’ boxes from the loft where they had stood forgotten and unloved for twenty years. What did I expect treating my treasures in such a thoughtless way? I curse myself under my breath even as I rekindle the joy of handling my old records once more.
Is it possible to take solace from this sad episode?
I believe it is, because the records are back in the living room, where they belong, for only one reason…..
But it started before that. A tragedy that stretched all the way across to the Beautiful South.
A sort of gradual dipping and leaning to the left. Subtle and unnoticed. Tectonic sagging that took two decades.
When I looked through the dust, in dim flickering torchlight, I was delighted the damage had begun after AC-DC. But my relief was short-lived. Disaster had befallen Adam and the Ants, Aerosmith, Aztec Camera and too many others in-between.
Some of the Beatles and all of the Beach Boys were victims, as well as Queen’s Sheer Heart Attack which had clearly been mis-filed one drunken night long ago.
Covers had been folded, some vinyl had been warped, as the thick cardboard, softened over time, had betrayed me and given way.
Heavy with resignation I lifted down the old movers’ boxes from the loft where they had stood forgotten and unloved for twenty years. What did I expect treating my treasures in such a thoughtless way? I curse myself under my breath even as I rekindle the joy of handling my old records once more.
Is it possible to take solace from this sad episode?
I believe it is, because the records are back in the living room, where they belong, for only one reason…..