I’m just sat on the train to London listening to mp3 music downloaded from iTunes on my iPhone through my AirPods and remembering when buying music was a joy a pastime and an art. I’m talking back in the 70’s. You hear a song you liked on you trannie, perhaps on radio Luxembourg or maybe Caroline or possibly Top of the Pops and come Saturday afternoon, cause that was always the time, you’d get your pocket money and go to top to the local record shop, to spend hours not only looking for the single or LP that you wanted, but rifling through hundreds of albums. Admiring the art work of the record sleeves, opening the gatefolded covers and reading the words. Then you’d go to the counter to ask to listen to some tracks and enter the little booths with headphones, whilst the guy serving would load your choices on the the record deck for the pleasure of your eardrums. O the afternoons I’ve spent passing pleasant hours doing that.
Then, decision made you’d take your purchase home perhaps in a bag or under your arm, or on full show so that other could admire your fantastic taste in music.
Once I’d got my hands on the record player at home, I would slowly and carefully slip the vinyl out of its sleeve, carefully handling the black plastic disc at the edges and slipping it onto the deck. The needle carefully poised above said disc, I would then very gently drop the needle onto the first track. Then headphone on, I would lay on the lounge floor, open the gatefold and follow the printed words to every song.
Bliss. It’s just not the same.