In a previous post, Vinyl Love, I told my coming of age story of buying my first 45 single during the Summer of Love. Shortly after I wrote that I was having a drink with a friend who asked me what the second single I bought was. I really can’t remember. I have an idea what it might be from the evidence that remains (I still have most of my old vinyl), but I can’t be absolutely sure. What a strange thing.
As I mentioned in that post I graduated to buying LPs some months later, but because of their cost and the fact that there was a really strong singles buying culture then, LP purchases were few and far between. I remember clearly the purchase of my first LP – Disraeli Gears by Cream. Thankfully that transaction occurred with far less stress than the first single. Again though I have no clear recollection what my second LP was. The imprinting of certain events on memory and the planting of memory triggers is a fascinating thing.
During self-interrogation about album No. 2 (which still eludes me) I did recall others as special events. Each had a particular moment of time associated with it, so that it’s only a portion of the experience that still remains. Some examples.
Wheels of Fire – Cream’s next album. I bought the gold covered Studio Version. I loved the cover as I was into producing the same sort of swirly psychedelic drawings at the time. My strongest memory associated with the album though is my shameless theft of the lyrics to Those Were The Days, which I transcribed and handed in as a high school music assignment. We were supposed to produce a set of lyrics and of course I left it to the last minute. It was 1968 and my music teacher was very prim and proper and classically trained. I thought there wouldn’t be a snowball’s chance in hell that she’d have heard the lyrics let alone heard of Cream. I was right. If you’ve ever heard the lyrics you’ll realise that they are a little ‘far out’ using an expression of the times. She figured I was some sort of troubled genius. I never owned up to it. I wouldn’t have a clue where I bought it from or anything else about the actual purchase, but it’s still sitting on my shelf and whenever I look at it I remember MissY the music teacher looking at me with pity and awe and I smile.
The White Album – The Beatles. I bought this at a place called Toombul Music, located in the shopping centre where I worked part time. Great music shop and still there! I was a closet Beatles fan by that stage, preferring to have my friends see me spinning blues and harder rock albums. I had bought Beatles singles and EPs a year or two earlier, but now I was about 15 and far too cool for that stuff. However, the release of the White Album was such an event that I had to buy it. I remember rushing home and pulling out all the photos etc from the packaging and then playing through those amazing collection of different tracks. Aside from Thick as a Brick by Jethro Tull and Led Zeppelin III, it was probably the most closely I have ever scrutinised an album’s packaging. I still have it and it’s still a joy to pull it apart. I remember the album also because I knew I had gone mainstream when my grandparents said they liked parts of it.
Black Sabbath – Black Sabbath. Not actually bought my me but by my great friend Michael who lived a couple of houses away. Albums tended to move around between the neighbourhood guys as they were a little too expensive for us all to buy our own copies. There was no real copying technology in those days aside from reel to reel tape players with hand held microphones, so albums were constantly on loan and on the move. I remember that Black Sabbath album because my grandmother took one look at the cover and heard a few bars of The Wizard and though I must be possessed. I still remember the look on her face. She was born in 1895, was a trained pianist and loved Elgar. Ozzie was a bit too much for her. That first Sabbath is still outstanding for the time and marks the real birth of that form of heavy metal music.
And so it goes …
... memory triggers of moments associated with the music and vice versa. I know a lot of people who disposed of their vinyl when CDs came in, but to me my records are a lot more than old music. They’re postcards from me then to me now.
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