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Jul. 1st, 2006 04:47 pmWhen mum gave me a turntable for Christmas I was pleased, because I like listening to records and we had a bunch of old albums -- or so I thought.
Bernard had destroyed most of our childrens' music records, that I knew, but I swore we had cooler music than the shelf of LPs I found below the new CD-oriented stereo. Most of them were soft jazz, which I detest with all my soul and Mum can't get enough of. There was some classical and a few soundtracks, plus a little bit of sixties folk -- Dylan and Joplin, mostly -- but nothing aside from that that really caught my eye. I admit this: while I like some instrumental music, and a few select classical composers, I've realised that the reason most music leaves me cold is that I want lyrics. And I want the lyrics to tell a story. This makes my tastes rather shallow and plebian, but let's face it: Ten Summoner's Tales was an awesome album.
Anyway, this afternoon I was helping clean out the garage (after building a propane grill this morning; ask me if my fingers hurt) when Mum tried to pick up what she thought was an empty suitcase, which had been buried on a back shelf for about two years with a bunch of Christmas-decorations boxes in front of it. As it turned out, the suitcase was full of LPs -- most of my father's collection, I reckon. The Beatles, Billy Joel, Elton John, Crosby Stills & Nash, Loggins & Messina, The Who, The Doobie Brothers, Cat Stevens, and just about every Simon & Garfunkel album ever, I reckon.
It's going to be a groovy few days, my friends.
Bernard had destroyed most of our childrens' music records, that I knew, but I swore we had cooler music than the shelf of LPs I found below the new CD-oriented stereo. Most of them were soft jazz, which I detest with all my soul and Mum can't get enough of. There was some classical and a few soundtracks, plus a little bit of sixties folk -- Dylan and Joplin, mostly -- but nothing aside from that that really caught my eye. I admit this: while I like some instrumental music, and a few select classical composers, I've realised that the reason most music leaves me cold is that I want lyrics. And I want the lyrics to tell a story. This makes my tastes rather shallow and plebian, but let's face it: Ten Summoner's Tales was an awesome album.
Anyway, this afternoon I was helping clean out the garage (after building a propane grill this morning; ask me if my fingers hurt) when Mum tried to pick up what she thought was an empty suitcase, which had been buried on a back shelf for about two years with a bunch of Christmas-decorations boxes in front of it. As it turned out, the suitcase was full of LPs -- most of my father's collection, I reckon. The Beatles, Billy Joel, Elton John, Crosby Stills & Nash, Loggins & Messina, The Who, The Doobie Brothers, Cat Stevens, and just about every Simon & Garfunkel album ever, I reckon.
It's going to be a groovy few days, my friends.
