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