ON THE RECORDs E-Book

Graham Sharpe

• Herausgeber: Oldcastle Books
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 551

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Far from being yesterday's fading, forgotten format, vinyl records have survived and flourished as the music medium of choice for not only baby-boomers, but all ages. Every record a collector acquires comes with a story of its own, and the recent Covid-19 lockdowns prompted many vinylholics, including Graham Sharpe, to look more closely at their reasons for collecting, take stock of existing collections and rediscover old favourites. Vinyl Countdown followed Sharpe's journey to over a hundred record shops across the globe, from Amsterdam and Angus, to Bedfordshire and Budapest, Tennessee and Wellington. Now, ON THE RECORDs: Notes from the Vinyl Revival explores the impact of recent global events on the record industry and considers the reasons why vinyl remains a beloved - and booming - format. It includes interviews and contributions from voices across the industry - shop owners, record company insiders, online/postal sellers, auction organisers, market traders of vinyl, amateur collectors - who share their stories with candour, warmth and humour. A mesmerising blend of memoir, travel, music and social history that will appeal to anyone who vividly recalls the first LP they bought and any music fan who derives pleasure from the capacity that records have for transporting you back in time.

Leseprobe

Praise for ON THE RECORDs

‘As essential a purchase as Revolver or What’s the Story. Brings every single album in your vinyl collection back to life’ – John Inverdale

‘A super fun romp through the looking glass of vinyl obsession, Sharpe captures the thrill, friendship, community and identity found within the grooves of a record’ – Jennifer Otter Bickerdike, author of Why Vinyl Matters

‘It’s like a visit to a good record shop: familiar yet surprising, and occasionally throwing up pure gold’ – Danny Kelly, former editor of NME

‘An obsessive’s book that will make you yearn for that moment when you slip an album from its much loved cover and hold it as if it is made of sugar work’ – Alyson Rudd

‘Freighted with encyclopaedic knowledge, this captivating account of a lifelong passion is essential reading for all vinyl freaks’ – Alan Clayson, author of Get Yer ‘Air Cut

Dedicated to everyone who believes that anyone using the word ‘VINYLS’ should immediately be banned from ever again purchasing anything from a record shop.

CONUNDRUM

Every time I buy another LP, I believe at that moment that I am enhancing my collection. However, I have to accept that I’m also diminishing the time remaining available to me to listen to the ones I already own. How to square this circle?

FOREWORD

All of a sudden, as the end of 2023 came into sight, we seemed to be dragged back to the 60s and the beginning of the long-lasting ‘rivalry’ between the Beatles and the Rolling Stones.

That ‘rivalry’ was always something of a media hype – as, don’t forget, the Beatles handed the Stones their song, ‘I Wanna Be Your Man’ to put out as a hit single as early as 1963.

Now, 60 years on, no sooner had the London boys, the Stones, enjoyed a huge hit with the single, ‘Angry’, and the LP on which it was featured, Hackney Diamonds (on which the track, ‘Bite My Head Off’ features a guesting Paul McCartney) than their Liverpool equivalents issued what was claimed to be ‘the very last Beatles’ single’.

It was called ‘Now And Then’, originally penned by Lennon, but which had resisted all completion efforts since the former’s death. It had now been brought to a conclusion by McCartney and enhanced by contributions from both Ringo and George. Reaction to ‘Now And Then’ was mixed, but I absolutely loved its melancholic feel. I found it a very emotional listen and began playing it at least three times a day. Not everyone agreed, and a number of friends whose opinions I respect did not seem to welcome the song, despite the input of all four group members. For me, the accompanying video was the clincher. Tears were blinked away on seeing and hearing the Fab Four back together. Like so many others, I snapped up what could well be both the Stones and the Beatles’ final musical contributions, as soon as they appeared.

Surely, with this latest cooperation, and these two singles both topping the charts, the whole pop-rock music and record industry had gone full circle. Likewise our own record-buying lives – for us children of the late 40s/early 50s what in the future could ever top these two momentous, musical miracles appearing virtually simultaneously, just as six decades earlier the two groups had burst into our consciousness, sparking the whole, phenomenal 60s scene and its musical revolution?

INTRODUCTION

Following the publication of Vinyl Countdown in late 2019, I had to endure – as have, and will, an uncomfortably large percentage of men of a certain age – various indignities and unpleasantries, imposed entirely – but ultimately very successfully – by overwhelmingly caring and super-competent employees of the NHS.

Their skills and attention proved to be the major factor in enabling me to survive and progress, thus far, beyond most of the efforts of prostate cancer to ensure the opposite outcome.

But I must also record the astonishing ability of music – via both vinyl and CD, which I, of course, listened to regularly at home – to help me maintain a positive outlook whilst undergoing treatment. Such as when the brilliant radiotherapy team found machines to enable me to listen to my calming and involving favourite artistes, such as Melissa Etheridge, Eddy Grant, Roxy Music – who came with me for my sessions.

Thanks, also, to the specialist who offered me the chance to take a look at some of my most intimate organs on a screen with her, while we both happily listened to The Who. This was confirmation for me that my own obsession with music is an ultimately reassuring, and rewarding, trait. However, it appears that my long-suffering wife does not exactly agree with me – when I asked Sheila if she fancied writing something for this book, this is what she came up with:

‘Although I have always liked music, Graham’s obsession is, for me, too much. Our home is dominated by his collection. As soon as a space is made, he fills it – which makes it nigh on impossible for me to clean properly. This is most frustrating at times – as I like things neat and tidy. But I am no music hater. From about the age of 10 I was interested in music – firstly, the Beatles, then the Small Faces becoming all-time favourites. I would go to the New Musical Express poll winners’ concert annually with school friends – and saw the Rolling Stones with Brian Jones, Fleetwood Mac with Peter Green and Jeremy Spencer. Aged 14, and during school term-time, I also went with Susan Brooks to the Valentine’s Ball held in a Tottenham Court Road venue. Her dad was an RAF officer, and he took us there. We went inside, and saw Status Quo, with Alan Lancaster. The Herd were also playing, and Procol Harum were there to pick up an award. Rick Parfitt was signing autographs – unfortunately when it came to my and Susan’s turn he just said, ‘that’s it – no more!’, got up and went. We were gutted. At the end of the evening, Susan’s dad was waiting outside to take us home. I’ve no idea where he’d been while we were enjoying ourselves, but all he wanted to know was whether we’d had a lovely evening.

The first record I bought was ‘A Hard Day’s Night’, and I also went to the cinema to see the film. I bought most of the Beatles’ singles. My first LP was Beatles for Sale. My favourite, Revolver. I never bought Rolling Stones singles but did purchase Sticky Fingers. Small Faces singles were always purchased – and an LP which Graham says would be quite valuable… if it didn’t have the scratches! I loved Free and have their Fire and Water album. Also liked Bad Company records and, when he is on tour, I will always see Paul Rodgers. I like Vinegar Joe’s Six Star General LP – Elkie Brooks and Robert Palmer were great to see together. Although I like Brian Johnson, Bon Scott’s vocals were better for AC/DC – and I enjoy them having no ballads!’

Hm. Not quite what I was expecting when I asked! So I asked Jan, wife of my fellow prostate cancer survivor pal, Ron Arnold – with whom I bonded while we were both receiving treatment for the condition – how she felt about his vinyl vagaries:

‘Ron’s hobby of collecting vinyl was okay to start with, but, to my mind, it’s now getting out of hand. Not only has he built a large chest of drawers in the spare bedroom (daughter Penny’s room), but also a set of shelves in the corner. He now says he needs another set of drawers for more records. He loves vinyl, and it gives him something to do. It gets him out and about on his own, with Penny and Graham, while I get a bit of peace and quiet, and a couple of hours on my own to get housework and washing done. I read and do my puzzle books without interruptions.

Ron is very excited when he brings records home. Some are very old songs from the War, big bands, which I quite like. It makes me feel older when I recognise the songs from the War and remember most of the words. I did tell Ron that, if something happens to him before me, everything goes in a big skip. Of course, I won’t do that… well, not before Graham or Penny’s friend has seen them! I know, nearly every time he goes to town, he will have a full carrier bag of vinyl, and, of course… some lovely cakes for us – so maybe it’s not so bad a hobby after all! Of course, the cakes are a bribe – I don’t know whether that helps me forgive him for the vinyl cluttering the house up.’

A theme may be developing here. Still, I very much hope you’ll enjoy my latest record ramblings – along with a few from fellow vinylholics.

1

IN WHICH I WONDER: MORE OF THE SAME, OR SOMETHING DIFFERENT?

The Kinks with ‘You Really Got Me’, The Troggs with ‘Wild Thing’, The Four Tops with ‘Reach Out I’ll Be There’, Sandie Shaw with ‘Always Something There To Remind Me’, The Byrds with ‘Mr Tambourine Man’ – they all enjoyed huge hits early in their careers, and followed them up with very similar tracks – ‘All Day and All of the Night’, ‘With a Girl Like You’, ‘Standing in the Shadows of Love’, ‘Girl Don’t Come’ and ‘All I Really Want to Do’ – which duly charged up the chart, almost emulating their predecessors.

On that basis, I wondered when I started to write this book whether to do likewise and concentrate on making the follow-up more of the same?

But then I realised that the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Manfred Mann, the Hollies, Kate Bush adopted no such tactic when following up their initial hits, just coming up with something different, yet equally attractive to potential purchasers.

This left me considering how, precisely, to follow up Vinyl Countdown. My first tribute to the musical format with which I grew up, and to which I’ve remained stubbornly committed, despite being continuously abused, pitied, vilified, scoffed-at and scorned, for such misplaced loyalty.

I hope you’ll agree I’ve managed to produce a combination of similar-but-different in terms of the content on offer. After all, the subject matter is the same – the wonder of vinyl and how it has survived having the last rites read over it some years ago before slowly but surely reasserting its hold over a significantly large number of long-serving music enthusiasts – and many recent converts. Of course, the genie can’t be forced back into the bottle, and streaming, or whatever it is that youngsters do to listen to tunes they like, will remain the dominant musical format du jour. But stats show that the vinyl revival achieved a significant milestone as 2022 became 2023, followed by 2024, and it was revealed that more money had been spent on buying records than CDs by the British public during these years.

This appeared to me to be confirmed by a stunning decline in the cost of second-hand CDs which, in local charity shops, collapsed to as little as 10 for £1 – an ultra-attractive price-point which I was keen to exploit, reaching what was surely a high-water mark in my collecting career when I was able to buy a brand new triple CD of Beach Boys music – 78 tracks in total – for a mere four bob, four of your English shillings, twenty of these new-fangled pence, forty-eight of the proper ones. Ludicrous value whatever the currency.

There are many others, of similar age and vinyly-inclined, who are quite happy ignoring all of the many modern ways of listening to and compiling on some incomprehensible, tiny machine, music they enjoy. They will understand the absolute satisfaction experienced by the three contentedly ageing men seated happily in the reception area at Harpenden’s Eric Morecambe Centre, clutching the very different vinyl purchases they had made in the past hour or so from the regular Record Fair being staged in the building.

It is probably not inaccurate to refer to the three tea-sippers as an Unholy Trinity – despite one of their number being a genuine Methodist Church minister. The other two – one of which was my own 71-year-old self – could perhaps also be described as rather ungodly – despite the fact that both of us had probably played the odds by praying once or twice as we each underwent treatment for prostate cancer.

It was undergoing this experience which introduced your author to his now very good, and slightly older, pal, Ron Arnold, as they both received radiotherapy treatment at Mount Vernon Hospital.

The youngest member of the trio, Gordon Lane, is my near neighbour. When we first spoke to each other, we became aware of a shared vinyl addiction. Gordon’s musical interests began with Marc Bolan, mine with Duane Eddy, and Ron’s with a variety of late 50s/early 60s acts, but particularly the Shadows.

We have all happily accepted that we are vinyl victims, unlikely ever to be cured. On this day, as we variously drank tea or coffee with, or without, an accompanying biscuit, one of us was content to have spent a mere fiver on acquiring several LPs and singles of enviable vintage; another paid twice as much to acquire just one double ten-inch compilation. And the third, with a pair of records to show for his work, was now three figures worse off.

But all three of us were beaming beatifically inside, despite knowing full well that our better halves would have our guts for garters if they ever found out.

Now, before going any further, how well do you remember the terrible consequence of Covid… the vinyl lockdown?

2

IN WHICH VINYL IS LOCKED DOWN

Records were an important comfort blanket for many of us during the Covid catastrophe. When it struck, it was concerning for everyone, particularly so for those of a certain age.

In late January 2020, I wrote in my diary: ‘Coronavirus is about to kill us all, apparently.’ Ultimately it didn’t, but it did mean the Robert Cray concert I’d been looking forward to attending was cancelled.

On 3 March 2020, then PM, Boris Johnson, warned that up to 80% of the population could expect to get Covid.

Eight days later, Sheila and I attended what would be our final concert for many months – Bryan Ferry, at the Royal Albert Hall. The gig didn’t appear to be sold out – or, perhaps more accurately, a large number of people had declined to attend. After a slightly rusty start, Ferry found his groove and cruised into excellence as the gig proceeded. I also had a rusty start as the woman sitting next to me decided that she wanted to sing along with Bryan, and had to be prompted to desist, unless she could show me her name on the programme.

My diary entry for 14 March 2020 suggests I was feeling less than confident that record shops were going to remain visitable for long, courtesy of Covid. I wrote: ‘It is rapidly becoming like living in a disaster movie.’ The next day brought rumours that over-70-year-olds – which I wasn’t at that point – would soon be facing ‘compulsory quarantine’. The record collection was becoming my go-to retreat to try to forget what was happening around us.

On 16 March, Boris Johnson warned everyone to stay away from pubs, bars, theatres and restaurants. He didn’t mention record shops… but there weren’t many open.

We’re booked for lunch in a local pub tomorrow – and intend to go. But will the pub even be open? The threat was moving closer as, on 17 March 2020, Sheila and I attended a ‘defy Boris’ lunch, to enjoy which, eight of us congregated at The Castle pub on Harrow-on-the-Hill – open, if somewhat – indeed, extremely – quiet, apart from our raucous octet. We have a great time, tinged ever so slightly by a low profile sense of unease. Defiantly, as we departed, we all agreed we’d regroup at a local restaurant in a week if feasible. It wasn’t.

However, on 18 March, as the death toll passed 100, there were still CDs to be bought in charity shops, and I snapped up a 5 CD singles ‘Definitely Maybe’ Oasis ‘cigarette box’ set for £8.90, which seemed usually to sell for £20 at least. The Covid threat was soon affecting every bricks and mortar record shop, all of which were forced to close on and off, leaving collectors reliant on online and postal dealers. On 20 March, an announcement came that all cafes, bars, restaurants, gyms, leisure centres must close immediately. With most record shops preparing to, or already, shut, and wondering when they might reopen, some feared that they never would. Some didn’t.

On the evening of 23 March, we were put into something very close to lockdown. Only permitted to leave home for shopping purposes. One exercise walk a day permitted, and that’s about it. I immediately withdrew everything I had been offering for sale online which couldn’t be put into a postbox for sending. Earlier in the day, Wolverhampton’s ‘Vinyl & Vintage’ record shop, run by Claire Howell, began posting information online and, with the lockdown scheduled to begin on 26 March, she advised customers of the ‘temporary closure’ of her shop under this heading:

VINYL & VINTAGE PHYSICAL SHOP TEMPORARY CLOSURE

Vinyl & Vintage regret that we are temporarily closing our doors due to the outbreak of Covid-19. We feel that it is the responsible thing to do to protect you, us and loved ones.

We will still be offering an online service and you can find some of our listings by visiting our web page www.vinylandvintage.net and click the Discogs link.

Customers who wish to order via our Discogs page should email or text me the order with a possible curb (sic) side collection at allocated times and days of the week. We will, of course, also post, in the event you are unable to collect. We will be using Royal Mail only whilst they still operate. Those of you that have items reserved, they will be held for you. We can arrange a curb (sic) side collection. This is likely to be on a Tuesday and Saturday.

We will regularly be at the shop organising and pricing and getting stock ready for when we reopen. We shall also be listing new items on our Discogs page. We will not open the door to you if you see us inside!

We are here to help whatever it may be and you can email us direct on [email protected] or by calling 07760 168972.

Claire & Sarah

Reading this, one recalls the sense of uncertainty and concern being felt by virtually the entire population – let alone we record collectors who, at least, had our collections to escape into for temporary respite from the near-panic gradually gripping, well, frankly, all of us. As lockdown continued, there were warnings from UK Music chairman, Tom Watson, that many independent stores could go under if not allowed to meet the demand for vinyl. On 26 March, I must have been getting bored with being confined to barracks courtesy of Covid restrictions – so I started shuffling around my double LP sets to tweak my storage system.

Some six weeks later, on 8 May 2020, Claire was posting:

‘Vinyl and Vintage are starting a click and collect service ONLY Monday 11th between 11am and 2pm, AND Saturday 16th, 11am to 2pm. You can call to reserve items to pick up and collect from outside the store. You will not be allowed to enter the store. If you have reserved items already you MUST call for a time slot to collect. We will give you details on how to pay and where to go if you are coming via car or on foot. If you would like to have a look at our Discogs page to see what we have please go to www.vinylandvintage.net and click the Discogs link. Sorry not all our stock is on there but there may be something you’d like, over 3,500 items listed. This is a trial so we will see what happens. And Jamie who reserved some items just prior to lockdown please get in touch.’

This was, at least, an indication that things were, we desperately hoped, beginning to improve and that here was one way to reconnect with vinyl. However, the day before Claire posted this, I had received a surprise text from the NHS telling me that I was considered to be ‘at risk of severe symptoms’ if catching Covid, and that I should isolate until 30 June. I felt this text was a huge overreaction, probably related to my age, 69, and a recent run-in with prostate cancer. I immediately contacted my GP – this was in the days when one could do such a thing and expect a response before several months had passed. On 11 May, I spoke directly to her, to be reassured that the NHS text was ‘somewhat over the top’.

Other record shops were, of course, also struggling to stay afloat and thinking laterally in order to do so – such as Vinyl Vanguard (motto ‘stylus over substance’) based in St James Street, Walthamstow, which, in a 23 May post, apologised that ‘we’re not down, just shut down’, but offered potential customers home deliveries by bike or on foot.

They came through the crisis, and are fully back up and running, with Mike and Simon happily ‘waiting to engage you in a discussion’ (pun probably intended).

Now, on 2 June 2020, back at V&V, Claire had promising news:

SHOP OPENING

‘Hello, everyone. We hope you are all doing well in these difficult times, but we hope the worst is behind us now as we look forward to opening on the 16th June at 10am. There will be a few changes. The door will operate on a buzzer system and you will be let in by us. You may be asked to wait in an area just outside the shop as there will be a limited number of people allowed in at any one time. There will be hand sanitiser on the wall that must be used on entering. The counter will have a screen around it and you will not be allowed to enter the office area. We suggest initially that a mask is worn in the shop and perhaps gloves. Social distancing will be required at all times.

We are looking forward to seeing you all. New stock has been ordered and we have the new Lady Gaga exclusive colour and clear vinyl LPs available. The new Rolling Stones colour exclusive and the David Bowie releases will also be in store along with lots of new used stock – 1,000s of 12ʺ and CD singles in the bargain bins and tons more interesting stock.

During this time, for those who don’t wish to come into the store, we will offer a click and collect service at the back of the store for orders via Discogs or by phone.

Record cleaning machines are available for purchase, by delivery by post or collection.

Until the 16th! Stay Safe!’

As a result of Covid, Julian Smith was restricting customers to two at a time in Second Scene, near Watford. As I was rootling amongst records displayed outside, while waiting for a chance to get inside on 17 July, Julian nipped out to see me – I told him he was putting on weight, and we both accepted we were too hairy due to lack of hairdresser visits, courtesy of Covid, while he also warned me he hadn’t had a chance to shower that morning – I didn’t bother telling him ‘me, neither’!

When I was permitted to cross the interior threshold, I bought another Barclay James Harvest LP, and Julian introduced me to a chap who had clearly read Vinyl Countdown, accusing me of being ‘the bloke who eavesdrops at the Bushey Record Fair’. He’s right, mind you.

In September, 2020, I went for my first haircut since lockdown, and when I went to the post office with the Oasis CDs I’d sold the day before, I was quizzed about where my hair had gone! Then, outside, two teenage girls asked if I could help them save a dying baby mouse/rat/squirrel – couldn’t really tell what it was – I had to confess my lack of veterinary skills and leave them to it.

My pal Les had told me about a new ‘shop’, just around the corner from him, opened by an old boy who seemed to be selling off unwanted stuff from his house – including records and CDs. I thought it would be poor manners not to assist him in that endeavour. He also had books, record players and other random stuff but I made a beeline for the records, finding an old favourite from my disco days – the single ‘Moon Hop’ by Derrick Morgan, on the Crab label, which cost me a quid.

I looked it up in the Rare Record Price Guide after playing it and ascertaining it was – unusually for a reggae single – in excellent nick. Just as well, as the RRPG reckoned it a 40-pound 45 – well, that’s some sort of reparation for the number of times myself and my fellow long-hairs from those days had to take evasive action to avoid attacks by skinheads (one of whom could well have been the old boy)!

There was now another significant blow to record shops, when the second national lockdown began at midnight on 5 November.

Claire’s shop also had to close again but, on 28 November 2020, there was positive news from her:

‘Looking forward to seeing you all again at Vinyl and Vintage. We reopen on Wednesday 2nd at 10am – 4.30pm. We have been working hard, pricing and cleaning used stock ready to sell – loads listed on Discogs, but so much more in store. From tapes and magazines and books, to soul 45s and LPs – rock – indie – prog and folk vinyl. Some new releases too – and gift ideas like record bowls with download codes – guitar picks and gift vouchers from £10. Lots more LPs in the 5 for £10 and bargain pick ’n’ mix 15 items for £10.’

I really didn’t know whether to feel complimented or offended when I walked into the Oxfam charity shop in Pinner, on 1 December 2020, to be confronted by a copy of my own Vinyl Countdown book. No, I didn’t buy it for myself. However, I did go over the road to St Luke’s charity shop, where I had to wait until someone came out before I went in – that’s how shop numbers were being restricted. I bought a 12ʺ Wishbone Ash single.

The second lockdown ended on 2 December 2020. On 4 January 2021, a third lockdown was announced by the Government, from 6 January:

‘People will only be allowed to leave their homes for the following reasons:

to shop for basic necessities, for you or a vulnerable persongo to work, or provide voluntary or charitable services, if you cannot reasonably do so from homeexercise with your household (or support bubble) or one other person, limited to once per day, and you should not travel outside your local areato meet your support or childcare bubble where necessaryto seek medical assistance or avoid injury, illness or risk of harm (including domestic abuse)to attend education or childcare’

It wasn’t the end, but maybe the end of the beginning. On 10 February 2021, Claire declared:

‘Hi all, hope you’re doing well and keeping safe. We are waiting to reopen and in the meantime are ordering new releases and any you want putting aside or posting out just contact us via email: [email protected] or text on 07760 168 972. You can call too.

New releases: triple Dio colour vinyls with lenticular sleeves – Whitesnake colour – Emmylou colour – David Bowie and Morrissey single – Neil Young – all out this week. Hit the link here on our webpage (or menu button) and go straight to our ‘itsforyoumusic’ site on Discogs.

Over 6,000 items listed and more being added. Happy to reserve or post out. Thanks for your time and continued support and see you when we are able to reopen or legally do click and collect.Stay Safe and Keep Warm. Claire.’

On 17 March, my sister Lesley – four years younger – sent me a text saying, ‘I’ve run out of oomph. Having Covid has definitely taken my enthusiasm away.’

Her words resonated with me. But it wasn’t over yet, and on 2 April 2021, Claire was explaining:

‘Hi all! We hope you are all doing well and have kept safe over the last 4 months – we are looking forward to reopening with loads of new and used stock. We shall be opening at 10am on the 12th April until 4pm. May be the only time we open on a MONDAY!!

Lots of in-store offers. For the month of April:

For a cash spend of £20 or over a free black record bowl.Loads of Mix ’n’ Match CDs/7 inch/12 inch/mags etc., usually 15 items for £10 will now be 20 items for £١٠.Spend £100 – a free black record bowl and a FREE ROCK PEN – artists from The Beatles to The Clash and Iron Maiden.Lots of new rock / pop t-shirts at £10 each 2 for £18 plus official merch at reduced prices.Official Rock Band Record Deck slip mats £10 each or twin packs for £18 artists The Beatles / Motorhead / Pink Floyd / Queen / AC/DC.’

It was good to hear, on 8 April 2021, that one of the few pleasures still sustaining the nation was… listening to music. This would have been obvious to those of us already of a mind to listen regularly to our record collections – but a survey by the BPI record labels association (no, me neither!) revealed that ‘over a quarter of us have increased how much (music) we listen to, compared to before the lockdowns started’. I listened to Capability Brown’s 1973 Voice LP this evening. It has a quite startling ‘zipped mouth’ cover.

The pressure of living with lockdowns and Covid was clearly taking its toll by 19 April, as my diary reported that I was ‘creating a list of records I’m prepared to sell’. On it were all three Big Star LPs I owned, Graham Bond’s Holy Magick (these days a £150 record, although mine was not in top condition), a Chapter Three LP, not so sought-after, I fear, and a Syd Barrett, which probably would be.

I must have changed my mind as they all still appear to be in the collection. Phew.

On 2 May 2021, the Entertainment Retailers Association reported: ‘Record shops have made a triumphant return to business after the lockdown, with aggregate sales of physical albums – CD and vinyl combined – up 70.7% across the two weeks compared with the same period last year.’ The percentage for vinyl was 91%, CD 64.6%.

Perhaps the latest ‘end’ was in sight by 5 August 2021, when Claire declared to customers new, old and potential:

‘Thanks again for your support of Vinyl and Vintage. Just a quick note to say we are open as usual today / tomorrow and Saturday but closed on Tuesday 10 August 2021 and Wednesday 11 August 2021. The dreaded stock-check I’m afraid, but, excitingly, lots of collections to sort and get in the shop. This week we have a small rock collection going out on Friday 6 August and some African and old RSD collectables that were traded in this week. A great Kiss collection of old fan club mags to CDs and DVDs and books and tour programmes.

As always we are happy to buy or exchange (trade) unwanted vinyl and memorabilia and old rock t-shirts posters and CDs. feel free to WhatsApp or call me. So, wrapping up – get yourselves down to V&V!!!’

As Neil Young and Joni Mitchell had already done, Nils Lofgren was reported to have removed his music from Spotify on 29 January 2022. He did so for the same reason as Young and Mitchell, because they believed that Covid misinformation was being spread by the streaming service’s ‘The Joe Rogan Experience’ podcast. Rogan is a ‘comedian, presenter, and UFC color (sic) commenter’.

I read a fascinating article in an edition of the regular newsletter I receive from Prostate Cancer Research (pcr.org.uk) in which fellow sufferer, ‘Jamie’, explained how he was inspired by his diagnosis to start fundraising for PCR – which he achieved successfully by approaching rock stars and their representatives, such as Genesis, the Killers, Kate Bush, Coldplay: ‘During the first Covid lockdowns I collected signed items that were put up for auction in 2021 – raising £4,000.’ Really well done, him.

By 20 February 2022, Claire was at last able to post without mention of lockdowns, closures and problems of that nature:

‘SATURDAY 23 April 2022 will see our 10th participation in RSD! Check out www.recordstoreday.co.uk for all the releases. We will be stocking a good selection of these titles listed so please follow us on Facebook for all the details and buying regs! We are still open Tuesday to Saturday 10am to 4.30pm and have been buying lots of excellent collections from Rock to Soul – Reggae and Hip Hop to Jazz and Blues. Including Vinyl and CD and some great magazines and books. Plus some amazing vintage posters from the late 70s onwards.’

Let’s hope fervently that we will never be forced back into the frankly fraught and not a little frightening world of lockdowns. Claire wasn’t forced to close her shop again… until 9 March 2023 when it happened again, but this time because of a heavy fall of snow. Whilst researching this piece I asked Luke Gifford of The Record Deck, who sells from the rivers he floats along on his barge, whether he had been able to continue doing business during lockdown. He told me: ‘No, we were shut, many of the canal traders were closed too, but, actually, not all of them, the fuel boats etc. were still okay to trade, very essential.’

3

IN WHICH I EXPLAIN FAMILIAR FAMILIAL STAND-OFF

Please allow me to explain in a little more depth at this point just how Sheila and I reached our present stand-off.

Why, you might wonder, would I be remotely interested in buying a record which only contained tracks I already had on other albums, and looked as though it had seen better days – sporting a cover literally coming apart at the seams? Well, I liked the group, and, yes, I had all the tracks, but not with the same cover design, and I’d had a look at the surface of the record and it looked very little played. But, no, I was well aware that to buy it would certainly mark me out as a helpless vinyl addict. So I slotted it back in amongst the uninspiring selection of other records in the box – classical music, long-gone ballad crooners, forgotten comedians, middle-of-the-road cabaret fodder… NO, sorry, that way lies financial folly, I told myself.

I walked out of the shop, heading back home, clutching the newspaper I’d come out to buy. I got halfway up the railway bridge before I turned round, went back to the shop and bought the record – along with ten CDs.

Yes, I am indeed a helpless, if not hopeless, vinyl addict. But I felt good about changing my mind and making the right decision. I’d liberated the record from its otherwise probable final resting place, and given it a new lease of life.

When I got home, though, I realised I might have trouble smuggling this booty past the ever-vigilant Sheila – always on the look-out for this kind of incomprehensible behaviour, which she believes has a significant adverse effect on her much-prized ability to keep the house clean and tidy. So, I hid the record and CDs in the back of the car, before going in.

If you are sympathising with me at this point, I suspect you’re going to enjoy the contents of this book. But should you – totally understandably – side with the logical conclusion that my wife is clearly in the right, we may as well part company here, before we go inside and things become even more difficult to explain.

I also need to confront the ageing pachyderm in the inner sanctum.

What should I do to ensure my record collection goes to a good home/is sold to a trustworthy collector or dealer should I expire in the rather more imminent future than would be my own choice?

I was seventy two years and a couple of months old when I began seriously writing this book. Mind you, the physiotherapist I visited earlier that day had asked me whether my medical records were erroneous in suggesting that I had progressed beyond three score years and ten, when I looked not much older than, oh… sixty-eightish?

It would, though, seem likely that within ten years or so I won’t be giving much of a damn about playing any of my psychedelic records, even in the unlikely event I still recognise what they are. Perhaps, then, I ought to begin thinning the collection down to a level which Sheila – certain to be around for many years after I depart – will be able to cope with. If I ask her about that, though, I’m sure she’ll just tell me, ‘Keep the Small Faces, Free, Bad Company, AC/DC, Vinegar Joe stuff, maybe a few Beatles and Stones albums… bin the rest.’ Which is fair enough. She’d still have some 50 LPs and a couple of dozen singles to keep her going. More importantly, she’ll still have Julian Smith’s telephone number, so that she can ring and tell him I’ve gone, and ask if he could pop round to see her asap.

I have every confidence that Julian, owner of nearby Second Scene record shop, will be more than happy to drop everything and head round to our house – even though I also have to accept that, as a result, a Watford supporter will thus become owner of a Luton Town fan’s vinyl – which is tough for me to come to terms with.

What’s the alternative?

Disposing of as many as possible of the ones I can happily live – sorry, die – without, by whatever means I can before the stylus finally reaches the final groove?

Given that I have tried to do this on numerous occasions before and still have 3500+ LPs in the house, this is likely to prove easier in theory than practice.

4

IN WHICH DICK HELPS LIFT THE FOG

Before we go much further, old friend Richard (Dick) Sear helps me clear away the sweet fog covering some elements of my memory of mid-to-late teenage times listening to sounds, turning on, chilling out and tuning in. I asked Richard for his own memories of blissed-out record listening in the smoky internal environment on way-out 60s Herga Road, Wealdstone.

‘Blimey, that’s really testing my memory. It was Steve Searle’s house, near the Pickford warehouse. He had quite a collection – also, he had coupled together two decks, and an amp which he rigged up in the alcove in his bedroom.

‘We would listen to loads of stuff like Pink Floyd – nearly wore out the album The Piper at the Gates of Dawn – Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Jefferson Airplane, the album with ‘White Rabbit’ on it.

‘Steve was also a big Gustav Mahler fan… and Beethoven, too.

‘I do remember saving up my money and buying an American import Mellow Yellow album by Donovan.

‘I surprise myself with how much I remember, as it used to get a little ‘smoky’, if you get my meaning!

‘I think the guys who went around to his house included myself, Ian French, his brother John, Ian Wright (Wally), John Kayton (Big Johnson). I’m sure there were loads of others, too?

‘We used to buy our records from the shop opposite Sopers in Harrow, I think it was called Stricklands?’

Indeed, it was, Dick!

5

IN WHICH I FINALLY SELL OUT

Still under constant domestic pressure, in June 2022 I began seriously trying to sort out a stash of records which I’d be prepared to part with. But how to do so?

Selling them is obviously one option.

If one takes them to a record shop, the amount paid is going to have to allow the potential purchaser to make a profit when they sell them on, as most shops are in business not so that the boss can enhance their own collection but so that the shop can remain profitable.

Haven’t you noticed what glowing recommendations records that you pick up and ponder over when you’re in a shop always get – but should you bring the identical record in to offer to the proprietor (s)he will insist that ‘hmm, we see a lot of these, not sure we need any more’, or, ‘yeah, this was popular only a while ago but I’ve noticed they don’t move as quickly these days’, or, ‘crikey, you should have brought these in before, they were going for 30 quid a throw, but now the market is flooded and I’d be lucky to get a tenner.’

But if one then decides to sell via eBay, Discogs, Amazon, elvinyl, etc., there is all the hassle of having to catalogue them, and then to transfer that information to the site’s chosen way of listing the records. Then, of course, there are usually fees involved for utilising someone else’s site from which to get rid of your own items, which can cut down on potential profits as you either pay for advertising the records and/or more when you sell them.

If you do finally manage to overcome the obstacles and eventually secure a few sales, and begin to think that maybe this isn’t too bad a way to do business, it is only a matter of time before your purchasers begin to send notes telling you that: when their record arrived the cover was creased; the record was scratched; it wasn’t the edition they were expecting; they’d made a mistake; you sent the wrong pressing; it never arrived, can they have their money back?

I’ve tried most of these selling options and methods, and they have never seemed to result in a satisfactory feeling once I have undergone the relevant processes. To be honest, I much prefer being a buyer rather than a seller, although I had always quite fancied trying out selling at a record fair, which, as you’ll discover, I got the chance to do before I finished this tome… and, to be fair, as I finished writing this very item, a Terry Reid LP I’d ordered recently turned up unscratched, in a perfectly acceptable, undamaged cover, and on time, as per advertised.

6

IN WHICH THE REAL WORLD KICKS IN

I’d wandered into the shop for a browse. I’d been before and usually found something I hadn’t realised I was looking for, so I was optimistic the same would happen. The shop wasn’t particularly busy. One or two people popping in and out. I’d identified one record I was particularly interested in, but was still flipping through the stock. A man walked in. Probably a little younger than me, but maybe looking a little older. When he spoke to the shop owner, his voice sounded overloud. He was after a copy of a record he’d heard and fancied buying. It was by Solomon Burke, and called ‘Cry to Me’. He wanted a copy on the London label. I knew the song. I told him I’d bought the Pretty Things’ version many years ago when they’d recorded it. ‘Rubbish version,’ he opined. I kept my counsel. Then he mentioned another record he was looking for, Mel Tormé’s ‘Comin’ Home, Baby’. I knew this one, too, but said nothing – my mum liked it.

The shop assistant had done a little googling and discovered that, obviously coincidentally, there was a single out there which coupled both of these tracks together, and was not expensive, unlike the individual originals, which the RRPG rated at about £100 for the pair.

By now, though, the man had launched into another, equally loud, story about something he called ‘a capacitator’, apparently part of his hi-fi equipment, which had ‘exploded’ very loudly recently. I told him there was a local hi-fi repair shop, Harrow Audio, which could probably help him in that respect. He carried on talking, without ever really listening, and without threatening actually to buy anything. I’d now found another record to buy, so paid and departed. Once home, I suddenly suspected I may already own one of them. I checked my lists, and I did.

Next day, I returned to exchange the record for another I’d decided against buying yesterday as I’d already spent my ration for the visit.

The shop owner was more than happy to swap the records, and asked whether I remembered the loud bloke from yesterday.

‘Yes, a bit obnoxious. How much did he spend?’

‘Do you know, he spent the best part of another two or three hours in here after you’d gone!’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, and he got a friend to come down, as well. He spent hours looking through singles, and came up with about four which he tried to get for much less than they were worth. At one point, he’d left a bag on the floor, which I noticed had a load of handwritten lists of singles in it. I am convinced he and his mate are dealers, and that they were looking to get records cheap by pleading ignorance. I’m not sure they didn’t help themselves to a few singles while they were at it, as well. The Solomon Burke stuff was just an excuse to look around the whole shop and try to rip us off.’

The owner of another shop confided to me that he firmly believed a ‘new regular’ had been responsible for departing with a valuable record secreted about his person, having come in, looked around, even at stock not yet put on general display, but declined to remove his overcoat, despite being offered a safe place to hang it whilst he was crate-digging.

The offer was made as an attempt to prevent the whiff of BO which was following him around the premises. Eventually, the non-fragrant gent departed without making a purchase. The owner was pleased to see him leave. However, a few days later, the owner noticed a rarely seen record, of which he knew he had a copy, up for sale on eBay amongst others of completely different genres, being sold in the name of the smelly man.

The owner thought he’d check on his own copy, which he then discovered was missing. Being a generous-hearted gent, the shop owner felt this was probably just a coincidence. However, when later discussing this coincidence in a phone call with the man and making him aware of his misgivings, he felt that the man virtually admitted that he had, in fact, been the culprit. When the shop owner then heard about a record fair incident involving his recently acquired unfragrant acquaintance, the chances of this being another unfortunate coincidence seemed to lengthen. It transpired that a new seller’s ‘star’ valuable record had suddenly disappeared while the stall owner’s back was turned. A search, organised by sympathetic neighbouring stallholders, who began asking whether anyone had spotted anything suspicious going on, eventually resulted in the suspected miscreant coming over to the extremely upset stall owner and declaring that he had just ‘found’ the missing disc amongst a pile of other records he’d been holding and could only assume he’d mistakenly kept it amongst his legitimate purchases.

7

IN WHICH THEY’RE GOING. GOING. GONE

The auction was scheduled for 18 October 2023.

I had finally and somewhat reluctantly accepted Sheila’s urgings that there MAY just be the odd record and/or pieces of record-collecting memorabilia which I might feasibly, possibly, be prepared or persuaded that I might be able to live without. Given that an auction house handling and selling some of my betting and racing ephemera also just happened to organise auctions of vinyl and music-related material, I asked whether they might be able to assess and possibly sell a few exploratory lots for me. It would be intriguing to see what they were prepared to take and prepare for sale and what they would tell me brutally had no value at all and might as well be dumped.

I reluctantly realised that my original, complete editions of the first five copies of the monthly magazine, The Rolling Stones Book – number one of which was initially published on 1 June 1964 – may be worth a collective three-figure sum. A little online checking revealed maybe two or three other complete copies of these five together, with recent sales having made a couple of hundred quid. The reason these five are particularly sought-after and scarce, apart from the obvious one that they were the earliest of their type, is that they each contained, as a centrefold, a sketched drawing of the face of a member of the group – making up into a unique portrait of the group when put together. Mine were all in great condition, apart from a very slight discolouration blemish in the top, right-hand corner of number four, published on 10 September 1964.

Whilst working as a record reviewer for the local paper on which I was a rookie reporter in the late 60s, and carrying on doing so for various publications subsequent to that for some years, I also collected a host of publicity photos for all kinds of groups, solo artist(e)s and performers which now represent an absolute gallery of those who were nobodies but became somebodies, and vice versa, together with nobodies who remained nobodies. It is fascinating to look through them, though. Frozen in time, many of these faces ring a bell in the back of the brain but don’t quite trigger recognition, but when you admit defeat and look down to see the name there, you often mutter, ‘Oh, yes – don’t look like that now, do you?’ – in much the same way as we all do when we get out the old family photos and later look in the mirror. I’ve also finally decided to part with some of the material connected with my old friend Screaming Lord Sutch, which I collected whilst researching the biography I wrote about him, The Man Who Was Screaming Lord Sutch. These items include one of his famous leopard-skin print jackets, a personal diary, some recorded interviews, and personal items such as his Barclaycard, acquired in the 60s.

At the moment, I am not including any records in this inaugural (for me) auction, but if this goes well that is the obvious next step.

In the event, I was not upset that the Stones mags did not sell, nor did Sutch’s jacket, but other stuff did, and I may well relist the other items.

8

IN WHICH I SENSE CENSORSHIP

Out record shopping at a local street market, I overheard one gentleman, who had spotted a pal and begun talking to him, mentioning that ‘there’s a new record shop in Hemel Hempstead’ – which was news to me.

His friend, definitely not speaking about this new shop in Hemel, just for clarity, told his mate of another shop he knows of ‘which has a paedo section – Glitter, Harris, King, etcetera’.

Coincidentally, shortly after this happened, I noticed a post on X/Twitter from @52Vinyl:

‘Does anyone think that charity shops shoud (sic) have some kind of code for very dubious artists? Thinking of: R Kelly, Jimmy Saville (sic) Lost Prophets, Gary Glitter, The f***ing black and white minstrels (sic)!

‘I see way too much of this crap still on the shelves. They have to do much better.’

This is a difficult issue, to be sure – for example, it could be argued that banning music by now disgraced figures is also punishing others associated with that music, who had no input to, or knowledge of, what the artist was up to away from the recording studio. If Gary Glitter is unacceptable, where do the Glitter Band stand – other than well away from their previous ‘Leader’? If the ‘dubious artist’ was the producer of records for other groups or singers, should that music also be disbarred? Who decides which transgressions should incur this punishment?

Another poster, @CharityVinyl asked: ‘I am forever struggling with my 1st pressing of Kate Bush’s Aerial that has Rolf Harris on it. Do I keep it? Sell it? Listen to it? Ask for my money back?’

‘Tough one to answer,’ began another responder. ‘I dunno… how far do we go… Phil Spector… Ike Turner… Art Pepper… James Brown… Chuck Berry… Jerry Lee…’

Another poster made the point: ‘Not disagreeing, but where does the line get drawn between dubious and very dubious? Michael Jackson?’

Posted @thebellow: ‘I’ve know (sic) a second-hand record shop that has a ‘paedo-box’ where they stick all that stuff and give it away.’ Does the shop stage a ritual abusing of any customer indiscreet enough to help themselves from the ‘paedo-box’ would you think?

‘Don’ offered a solution: ‘I volunteer for a charity and run the vinyl – Gary Glitter et al – straight into the recycling, and don’t pass go!!’

Where does this end, though? And who decides what is heinous enough to deserve permanent banishment? What if the person is subsequently shown to have been mistakenly accused or convicted? Do we then have to rush out and rebuy everything they ever recorded?

I think it is safer to stick to one’s own moral compass and play or ban depending on our own judgement, not the court of public opinion.

Bizarrely enough, browsing through records shortly after writing this piece, I came across a record in my collection, released some 50+ years earlier – which fits neatly into this debate. It purported to be by a group called Sakkarin on the RCA label, marked as being released on 19 March 1971, and bearing the number RCA 2064.

It has a large ‘A’ in the centre of the label, indicating that it is a ‘promo’(tional) copy, sent to journalists in an effort to gain publicity. And the way they were trying to do that with this disc was not to tell anyone what the A and B sides were called. Instead, the A-side label message read: ‘For further information please call RCA at 499 3901 EXT 31’. The only clue was the names of the writers of whichever song it actually was – who were ‘Barry/Kim’. Now that was a real clue – I thought ‘that probably means Len Barry and Andy Kim were the composers’. I was almost right – the Barry was actually Jeff Barry, but I was correct with Andy Kim – and these two actually wrote the massive hit of its day, ‘Sugar, Sugar’, for cartoon group The Archies.

In autumn 1969, the single topped both Billboard’s (for four weeks), and the UK singles chart (for eight weeks), ranking as number one single for the year in both America and Britain. So, was this 1971 composition the same song or a different track, and who were or was Sakkarin? Well the ‘who?’ is easy. It turns out that it was Jonathan King – yes, him – who had invented the studio group called Sakkarin and rerecorded ‘Sugar, Sugar’ under that name. It was a rocked-up, anonymously sung version with heavy fuzz-style guitar backing, which reportedly sold over four million copies and charted in several countries.

As for the B side of this record – well, it had absolutely no information on the label, nothing even to hazard a guess with, but a little research revealed that it was a Jonathan King composition, ‘Mainline Woman’.

All of which now sets up the morally intriguing question of ‘is it acceptable to enjoy music made by someone who has been “cancelled” or written out of history for some kind of moral transgression IF you have no idea that the music was made by such a person, or people?’

I’d say, yes, perfectly acceptable.

Active musician and author – and long-time friend of the late Screaming Lord Sutch, which is how I first made his acquaintance – Alan Clayson also has a view on these moral questions:

‘On hearing of Gary Glitter’s release from gaol, did a fragment of one of his hits embed itself in your skull for maddening hours on end? In my case, it was the chorus of ‘Oh Yes! You’re Beautiful’. Is there a moral dimension to the appreciation of artistic achievement?

What about Hitler’s paintings, for example – or Wagner’s Götterdämmerung?

Certainly, it brings to mind the following statement by Frank Zappa: “All I hear is the music. I don’t know anything about the lives of these guys. They may have all been absolute bastards. I probably don’t want to know what kind of a guy (Austrian composer, 1883–1945) Webern was, but I like the music. I’m not thinking about who wrote it, or why he wrote it. I’m only listening to the results.”’

I must admit I also own a number of records which it is probably only acceptable to play when one is alone and wearing headphones, just in case anyone else happens to overhear what I’m playing. Not that such a thing would upset or embarrass me, but I wouldn’t wish to subject them to something which may cause them angst.

Not that I would ever don the headphones to hear the likes of Rolf Harris’ ‘Two Little Boys’, while I suppose his ‘Sun Arise’ would be deemed guilty of cultural misappropriation. Come to think of it, maybe ‘Jake the Peg’ was in dubious taste too.

But I have to admit that I struggle to accept the idea that just because one particular person deems a record and/or its lyrics unacceptable everyone else automatically must go along with their reasoning.

I read an undated article on the ‘USA Today’ website which damned a string of songs, naming ‘20 politically incorrect songs that’d be wildly controversial today’.

I tried hard to be offended by all of them, but was a little baffled why I should be, by some amongst them, particularly, Band Aid’s 1984’s ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas?’ and ‘Ebony and Ivory’ by Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder. It is certainly the case that some people are anxious to be offended and will make it their business to be so, or to claim to be so, in order to be able to criticise others, regardless that the motives of those involved were purely altruistic.

It is far too easy now to claim offence has been taken by criticising the past for its failure to live up to someone else’s opinion of what today’s standards are deemed ideally to be.