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What I remember most was the smell…
Seven inches of vinyl
with that distinctive ‘just pressed’ aroma
forty-five revolutions per minute
of Chuck telling Ludwig to roll over
What a truly wondrous time –
Long live Radio Caroline
My four horsemen of this epoch eclipse –
Fontana, Parlophone, Columbia and Decca,
escorted me with ground-breaking music
as I journeyed to Mecca dance hall and youth club
and of course, the jukebox in the occasional pub…
the dictate of groovy modernism;
that rock and roll should turn tables
on the gramophone,
and with the panache of the soothsayer,
instilled within our collective psyche,
the edict:
‘Behold, from this day forward,
thou wilt be called ‘Record player’
And so it would remain
until progress progressed again
and supplied cassette tapes
for which the cumbersome record deck
was no match
and suddenly the stylus
no longer came up to scratch
What was great about the sixties?
In truth, nothing much
- and everything!
At least, the bands could play
and the singers could sing…
No studio wizardry,
no session musicians,
no digital mix,
no boy band covers,
no marketing tricks…
Just pure genius,
Captured for posterity
on a little piece of plastic with a hole…
Kevin Wells
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