Sunday 12 April 2015

Beat box

A box of singles came into our possession recently via Mr SDS' uncle. It was this uncle who, as a 19-year old, first introduced the very young Mr SDS to music and his copies of Melody Maker around 1965. But that's Mr SDS' story, not mine, and may one day be told in more detail in another blog if I could ever convince him to write one, which seems unlikely.


Is this a tantalising image, though? Are you perhaps eager to know what gems might be in here? Feeling the anticipation, even from that distance? Enlarging the photo and straining to identify each record company sleeve, teasing yourself with the thought of what it might contain? (Maybe you're the kind who notices that there's a CD rack in the background of a scene on a TV programme and turns their head sideways to try and read the spines?)

I was reminded of those responses on reading a post over at the excellent blog Feel It which took me back to the days when we used to go to Record Fairs quite frequently. Flicking through this box of old 45s brought it all back too.

It seemed like it was every weekend in the early '80s that we'd take the train down to London for a Record Fair but I think that's my memory taking liberties. Anyway, we went to quite a few. I grew tired of it long before Mr SDS did, but it probably didn't help when I started a full-time job in a record shop, seguing my work time and leisure time just a little too much (as well as working every Saturday). Still, for a while they were exciting. I remember how resilient we had to be, prepared to search through every suitable box and crate, tirelessly and hopefully. Frequently the promise was matched only by the disappointment, but you had to keep looking – how could you pass by a box of singles and not look?!

The Record Fairs we went to always seemed to be held in somewhat downmarket hotels - maybe they still are; I wouldn't know. But I can picture them now: large function rooms with burgundy patterned carpets, scuffed woodchip walls... smoke and dust caught in rays of sunshine coming through a window in the dingy bar area... that particular breed of dealer with the greasy comb-over wearing a conker-brown cardigan, resting his not-insubstantial beer belly against the trestle table. We got to know the good ones and the not-so-good, the pleasant and the patronising. We got used to rifling through crates of albums in dusty plastic outer sleeves with corners that cut our fingers. The hand-written indices and barely decipherable price stickers. That smell - the smell of vinyl! Cigarette smoke too... body odour... coffee... mildew... fried breakfasts. Fried breakfasts? I don't know why I'm getting this memory of the smell of egg and bacon, but it's there nonetheless. And punters all but salivating... over boxes and boxes and boxes of vinyl.

Anyway, what was in the uncle's box? I'm sure you're dying to find out.

Well, it was just the usual Elvis, Beatles and the Rolling Stones....etcetera...








18 comments:

  1. Great stuff, i used to love the old record fairs but I was always in search of Dylan bootlegs and the excitement of finding somthing new was one of lifes pleasures. Better than scoring a goal!!

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    1. Oh yes, the place for bootlegs... you never knew *quite* what you might end up with!

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  2. I've just picked up my love of rifling through boxes at record fairs and taken it to car boot sales and charity shops - what can I say? I'm an addict! Interestingly, many of the characters (and smells!) you describe appear to have followed me, certainly to car boot sales anyway!
    Two things I can never walk by and leave unrummaged (is that a word? It is now) - a pile of old photos or a box of old records.
    Buy Mr SDS a typewriter for Christmas - I want to read his stories!

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    1. 'Unrummaged' - love it! You must still have plenty of stamina... I just can't keep up the pace, but I think some of the magic has gone for me now too. Having said that, I could still happily browse through boxes of photos / postcards / vintage magazines, etc.
      I'll keep working on Mr SDS. You never know...

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  3. A great description of record fairs C.
    Wish I had an uncle who could forward some treasures my way.
    Who knows - my nephews may see me in that light but I suspect not!

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    1. I'm sure your nephews would be in for some treats if you were to pass them some of your old purchases.... Or would they end up in a charity shop (for you to go and buy them all over again!)

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  4. So evocative...and very reminiscent of the old Flea Market here in town before, after a few tries, the owners finally figured out how to burn it down.*

    I still take those trips to book stores and I am tireless about it...Martha is
    not.

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    1. Well now I'm able to imagine the Flea Market... yes I bet it was very similar... must be something about 'dealers' in general. You've left us hanging with the burning down reference....

      Book stores are wonderful, I especially love the second-hand ones but, unlike you and probably like Martha, I have my limits.

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  5. I'm loving the look of the singles you have featured above; all gems but for the Cliff, which does have a rather apposite title given the way things are looking. Oddly, I've only ever been to one record fair. I avoided them because I know I'd want to spend far more than I could afford and it would end in tears.

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    1. Haha, yes I thought the same about the Cliff one, couldn't resist it!
      Having seen some of the gems you've found in charity shops, I'm sure there's no need for you to spend more at record fairs!

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  6. That's a nice looking box of records. I always get excited at car boot sales if I see a box with lots of 60s company sleeves peeping out. Usually ends up being Harry Secombe and Val Doonican but there is always the anticipation of something worthwhile. Unlike the boxes clearly full of of pic sleeves which you just know will invariably be 80s pop schlock and not 70s punk.
    Nice post, and sort of inspired by me!

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    1. Hi Darcy - thanks, yes it was inspired by you! You got me thinking about record fairs - then the box of singles arrived as well and I was right back there... vividly... So true what you say about different finds. There weren't any Secombes or Doonicans in this box but, right at the back, a whole bunch of Jive Bunny (of all things!) pic sleeves; I kept them hidden from view of course...

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    2. I'm scratching my head wondering why I can't get my blog to show its comments like this - where you can reply specifically to a comment. Can't see anything in the settings that would allow it. How do you do it?

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    3. I just had a look in Layout and Settings etc. too and can't see how it's done. I never opted it for it, it was just always there. Maybe it comes automatically with some templates and not others? This is the 'Simple' template. (Seemed most appropriate!)

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  7. well THIS unlce will certainly not be leaving his vinyl to his nephews or neice. I was hoping for either a a complete list of the singles or the start of a series - singles given to my husband.

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    1. Hi george and thanks for coming by! Trust me, there were no real gems to be found in this box - yes, plenty of good solid standards but really just the usual suspects, no surprises, no sizzling soul or rare psych or anything. They'd go well in a jukebox, mind. But we don't have a jukebox...

      So - no series on it I'm afraid; I'm happy to leave the real music blogging to the rest of you!

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  8. I had a weird sense of deja vu reading that. I think I must have been you in a past life.

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    1. Ooh! How strange... perhaps we're in the Twilight Zone...

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