The vinyl countdown

I may be the wrong side of a decade behind the rest of the country, but the time has come for me to make a painfully difficult decision.

Should I retire my record collection?

In case there are any young personages reading an actual newspaper (which is pretty unlikely, when you think about it), firstly: Yo! Wassup? Fo’ shizzle! Innit. Secondly: A ‘record’ is a hard copy of an mp3, made out of fragile, easily damageable, black plasticky stuff, called ‘vinyl’. Considering they usually held a maximum of around 12 songs, they were ridiculously large, and needed a small diamond placed on their surface, whilst being rotated, to get the sound out. I know. Incredible, isn’t it?

My record collection takes up the space of a fridge, but still contains less than 1500 songs. It’s also quite hard to take ELO’s epic ‘Out Of The Blue’ out with me when I go walking, not least because I don’t have an extension lead that long for the record player.

Since the invention of the Compact Disc (itself now resolutely ‘old skool’), I have purchased many of my treasured collection in an (allegedly) more durable format, but I’ve hung on to the vinyl versions, and still give them a spin from time to time.

Much like their owner, they’re getting on a bit, tatty, scratched and have a tendency to let you down when you’re starting to enjoy them. Unlike me, though, they still look fantastic, and even the odd crackle, or need for me to gently nudge the needle on, haven’t diminished the joy of listening to the tunes of my teens and twenties, in a format that has admittedly become a novelty, but still provides the thrill that shuffling through your iPooed, or trying to view the ‘sleeve’ on your phone’s screen, can never manage.

Whilst everyone I know sent their collection to the charity shop around the turn of the century, and some have even done the same with their CDs, mine have remained on the sturdy shelves of my office (AKA the tiny room next to the toilet).

A damp problem (the room, not me) and leaking roof have led to an increasing deterioration in my collection, and now an even more serious threat has arisen – the need to decorate. With space at a premium, and most of the records now available to me in newer formats, I’m struggling with the concept of boxing them up and either saying a tearful goodbye altogether, or storing them somewhere, like a teenager does with the favourite toys of their youth, unable to part company with their faithful friends of yesteryear.

Any significant value of some of the rarer ones is long gone, eroded by over use and moisture. I may be late to this difficult decision, but it is no less painful and signifies a pivotal moment for me. I may finally have to grow up and get with the times.

At least I’ve still got the 900 cassettes.

This post first appeared as my "Thank grumpy it's Friday" column in the North West Evening Mail on the 3rd of January 2014. You can view the version used by the paper on their website here, where it received a light edit, removing the cynical line implying young people don't read newspapers. I can't think why...

A nasty dose of ManFlu has slowed the spare room decoration, so not all the records are boxed up yet. Still finding it tough that this could be the end of the line for my treasured collection...

(Homegrown compilation CD today - an odd mix of 80s stuff, featuring Arcadia, Blancmange, Duran Duran and Monsoon. Rather splendid, though.)

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