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You don’t need me to tell you that vinyl is fashionable. You’ve only got to look at the ads that still feature it; plus when you look at your own record racks, your albums are all wearing fancy designer labels and spend their nights at exclusive London nightclubs where they rub shoulders with Prince Harry and get off with premiership footballers. There’s nothing as cool and youthful as a swanky sheet of vinyl, winking its eye at you and saying, come on baby, fancy laying your stylus in my groove? No wonder the youths all wanna get their hungry hands all over it, even though they don’t own a record player. Yet.
So, the kids like vinyl albums: but which ones? We know they’re mad for Arctic Monkeys and Muse on vinyl; Radiohead always sell well on plastic. But what of the oldies? This week we got a mail from our chum Mick in Hartlepool, who runs a vintage shop called Trash In The Attic, which stocks plenty of used vinyl. He says the kids are looking for albums by Bowie. We are not sure if this is prompted by a perception that Bowie represents classic music you need on LP, or whether they believe Bowie is fashionable again and therefore they are too if they own his records. But he’s the man, it appears.
Does this mean that students now plaster their walls with posters of Ziggy instead of the inevitable tired Bob Marley spliffing-up poster? I tried to conduct research into this, using a pair of binoculars, but was arrested beneath the yew tree I fell out of. “But officer, I’m not a peeping tom. I’m conducting a survey into the décor in halls of residence.” “You’re nicked, sunshine. You must think we were born yesterday. Heveryone knows that students can no longer hafford to live in ’alls of residence. And anyway, this is a nurses’ dormitory…” Sorry, I said I’d drop the dodgy fantasies, didn’t I? And in reality, that behaviour is a nightmare.
I know that many of you were concerned about my needing the 100-copy De La Soul album, because I heard you all sniggering. You can rest at ease because one has been reserved for me by a kind seller. It only cost me an arm and a leg… and my wallet. But that’s my problem, isn’t it? I don’t like buying into these kinds of panics and I wouldn’t recommend that you do so. But we record collectors are all foolish human beings. The exception is Nipper from HMV: he’s a dog.
Very sorry to hear about the death of Bob Hoskins as I write this. I think we’ve linked to this theme before, but it’s worth hearing again.
We’re working on the next issue: Melvins, a Great British guitarist few people have heard of, Blossom Toes… it’s gonna be a goodie, but it’s some way off yet.
Hope all is well and you are lucky enough to be able to enjoy your bank holiday next Monday. Have a great week; thank you for reading this newsletter and our humble lil’ mag.
Ian McCann, Editor