What lies along the waters edge? What will we find if we follow its meandering path through the fields?
There is something magical about water in the landscape. Its sound, the way the sun glistens on its surface. Its calmness. It is life flowing through the land, without it we are nothing. I could sit by the waters edge for all eternity and listen to its soothing sound.
As I haven’t posted for a while….. here is the next selection from my little box of singles. I hope you might agree, most are pretty good. The thing I like, or even love, about vinyl is the artwork. Of course the artwork on the LP’s is a lot more enticing then on the singles. I am not a great lover of CD. Like toilet paper, toothpaste and milk, it is a means to an end. There is nothing to love about it. You use it to get what you want, sound.
What do you do when the football has started? You start cataloguing all your singles of course. What else would one do on a Saturday night. And then you start to think. About the first time you got your record player. This is mine, a Fidelity UA10.
I got it for my thirteenth birthday. Its one of the best presents I ever got. Before that music was played, mostly, in the company of my parents. Our only record player was upstairs in the living room (we lived in a split level house with the bedrooms downstairs) I could read in my bedroom, contemplate life, even talk to myself, but I could never play music. So imagine the job of being able to go to my room and put on a record and listen to it all by myself. I’d always liked listening to music but that’s when I fell in love with it, in my bedroom when I was thirteen.
Of course you couldn’t have the volume too loud, that came later with the onset of headphones. But you could hear the music, I mean really hear the music. You could close your eyes and be there inside the song. You couldn’t do that when your parents were around. They wouldn’t understand. They didn’t know what it was like to be thirteen. They didn’t understand the sound that came out of your bedroom. And I still get it even now. I still get the music.
Milk and Alcohol, written in 1978 by Nick Lowe and John Mayo, reportedly retells Lowe’s 1970’s experiences drinking one too many Kahlua-milk drinks at or after a US concernt by bluesman John Lee Hooker.
We went to the Lowry centre in Salford recently. They were showing a short film about his life, which included interviews with the great man. In one interview he confessed his love of Bellini and he said that music took him to the other side.
That’s how I feel about music. It takes you somewhere different, to another world.
The Japanese when giving gifts never give anything that contains a set of four. Four is an unlucky number. When pronounced it is very similar to the Japanese word of death. That is why I am recording these records in sets of three. My love of Japan and its culture seeps into all aspects of my life. I am as The Vapors sang Turning Japanese. When I look at these pictures I can hear the songs playing over and over again. This is what you did as a teenager. You played the songs you loved over and over again often driving your parents potty. When I was a teenager the first thing I did when I got my pocket money was head to Peterlee town centre to buy a single from Woolies. In music lie our memories. Some happy, some sad.
All three records bring back good memories and remind me of the days when I was a bolshoi teenager who wanted to take on the world and was full of angst, which was probably caused by all the hormones bouncing around.