Tuesday, August 03, 2004
We've got 'round about 800 CDs.
'But how many of them do you ever listen to'? asked the woman, raising her eyebrows to the sky in horror. The waste of money, the waste of space!
But I find it difficult to part with CD's, even the horrid ones that make my skin crawl. 'Cause once upon a time they meant something to me and some of them still make me feel. The only CD's I ever get rid of are the once that never were.
At my parents' house I've still got old vinyl, locked away in a cupboard. One day I'll buy a turntable and get back to the roots and the riots.
I may only listen to most of my CDs once a year the most, but that one time will make me happy. Which I think brings some value in itself.
Anyway I've stayed in Verlaine's Batignolles, touched Epstein's angel at Pere Lachaise, marvelled over Manet's Olympia in Musee D'Orsay and watched Paris from Sacre Coeur. I'm knackered.
'But how many of them do you ever listen to'? asked the woman, raising her eyebrows to the sky in horror. The waste of money, the waste of space!
But I find it difficult to part with CD's, even the horrid ones that make my skin crawl. 'Cause once upon a time they meant something to me and some of them still make me feel. The only CD's I ever get rid of are the once that never were.
At my parents' house I've still got old vinyl, locked away in a cupboard. One day I'll buy a turntable and get back to the roots and the riots.
I may only listen to most of my CDs once a year the most, but that one time will make me happy. Which I think brings some value in itself.
Anyway I've stayed in Verlaine's Batignolles, touched Epstein's angel at Pere Lachaise, marvelled over Manet's Olympia in Musee D'Orsay and watched Paris from Sacre Coeur. I'm knackered.
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