My memories of him locked away gathering dust and now I was in joyous reunion anxious to hear what I had long forgotten so I turned out the lights, turned up the volume, laid down on the sheep skin rug and let my body sink into its invitation of surrender
As I listened to him, I could hear every tone, every breath, every pause…maybe a bit scratchy from wear and tear, but his unique style could still move me in the silence of the night….the nighttime is the right time as his vibration melded into mine…breathing life into the story of a past serenade, a love lost, found and then lost. These sounds could only be heard like this…stereophonic chords and rhythms in sens a-around.
But too soon the end had come, the trance broken with the crackle and pop of the needle….time to turn the album over. I took my headphones off and smiled as the blue light on the turntable reflected back at me. Who is this mystery man of sound? Two things I don’t do and one of them is share my records. Buy your own. Vinyl lives!