Yesterday I sent a list to a local vinyl records store of the 80s albums and 12" singles I had dug out of storage and they said bring them in. It's the usual indie stuff; Velvet Underground, Joy Division, New Order, Associates etc.
Either I didn't sleep all that well last night because of a late cup of tea or it was an ache at the thought of handing these records over. Hm.
A few of the disks required a gentle soft wash today, and I let them dry on the dishes rack. Just handling them and poring over the faded sleeves put those days on the turntable of memory and carefully lowered the stylus; the people, situations, feelings, and rooms from back then, springing clearly to life once more without the records even being played.
