In the shop he selected a disk of the vinyl variety recorded by The Watersons and, as you could in those days, he asked for a demonstration.
The kind retail assistant complied.
She wound up a machine and carefully applied diamond stylus to rotating device.
The adenoidal output was excruciating.
It posed a health-threat to the tympanic membranes.
Discerning shopper screwed up his face, holding hands to his ears.
Assistant, before vacating the room, smiled and said, “Yes, it’s an acquired taste, isn’t it?”
Forty years on, the taste is acquired, and that buxom employee of EFDSS remains a fond and distant memory.
5 comments:
A memoir not so much of a collector, as of a failed collector.
"She wound up a machine" ??? I gather the North didn't get electricity until the 1990s, but we Londoners had it for the Coronation, at least. I suspect this a reconstructed 'recollection' made without the benefit of contemporary notes, and thus must be regarded as completely unreliable. It was probably a Fred Jordan record, to boot.
Well, at least I 'wound up' PSM!
Hardly an enormous challenge, winding me up:- but then, it wasn't deliberate, now, be honest, was it?
Course it was!
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