It is never about just the album,

the vinyl, the picture on the front

that greeted you, the small

detail of mass produced typed information

on the back that caught the serious addict

in mid stumble with their fingers…

…it is the wealth of memory

that each album represents,

you might instantly remember

or pause to reflect

who you were with that fateful day

when you spied something that caught your heart,

that made it pound faster, groan under the weight

of another lost love,

like looking across the dance floor

at a woman who would break your heart

but kiss it tenderly with stained blush lips

the next morning,

it is the memory of what mood you were in,

the shop, the smells, sanitised fury

or beautiful streaked floor, sawdust

on vinyl holding aloft vinyl,

your day, that day,

is wrapped up in vinyl,

the perfect day

on speakers

in thought, reading the lyrics,

immersing yourself in the deep end,

only coming up to breathe when the lines and final notes

fade

into the distance, calling out

but you remain unmoved, deaf

till you next take the album out of its sleeve

and the wave of memories crash over you

once more…

 

it is never just about the album.

 

Ian D. Hall 2018