It’s not always about listening to the music, sometimes it’s about looking at it. For years I have bemoaned the inaccessibility of my 7″ singles. Held fast in a baker’s dozen’s worth of carry-cases on the bottom shelf of a sideboard in the dining room, too rarely did these records see any action. It was sad.
A few weeks ago I designed a shelving unit to contain my neglected vinyl. Pleased with the specs, I commissioned a friend to construct the storage system. In the meantime, I ordered plastic divider cards and labelled them using rub-on letters of various typefaces.
Last Friday, I took delivery and set about organising the records (so many, many questions about filing!) in a fit of nebbish anal-retentivity the like of which the Elham Valley, let alone Casa d’Asbo, seldom sees.
Having satisfactorily filed the collection, I straightaway moved the records out of their new home to undercoat and then paint it to match the Lp and CD storage units (see the Thrifty V wallpaper featuring shelves also built by my friend).
Now normally, of course, I couldn’t afford such frivolousness, but I recently came into quite a tidy sum as a result of the eBay sale of an item featured in this very organ. There are prizes for correctly guessing which item it was.*
Even as Comic Book Guy’s last-minute existential angst (“Oh, I’ve wasted my life.”) rings loudly in my ears, I can’t help but indulge in some thoroughly rewarding staring time.
*And by “prizes”, I mean “no prizes”.