Musically Conned
vinyl was always best
In those heady days of Roxy Music, Queen, The Who,
Adam and the Ants, the Beatles, T-Rex, Moody Blues,
all we knew was vinyl, black and glossy, groovy treasure,
record-player, needle crackling…precursors to pleasure.
Carefully we’d slide each album from its cardboard sleeve,
pause, admire the artwork, best that artists could achieve.
Picking out which tracks we liked, required a steady hand,
sit back and enjoy our form of music on demand.
But what’s this? A shiny disc, and it plays tunes, you say?
Kinda small and now you’ll have to change the way you play.
Ditch your record-player now the CD’s been invented.
They say the sound is better, but I think they are demented.
Heck, that didn’t last long — what’s the next thing? An i-pod?
Stick a bud inside your ear and listen while you plod,
or jog or take a walk through town; you take your music with you.
It does sound kind of tinny though, not quite what you are used to.
Forget all that, we’re moving on and music is now digital,
a billion tunes from Motown, R & B and Aboriginal,
no sleeve design to lift your heart, there’s nothing you can touch.
Experience is virtual and I don’t like it much.
Well, would you know it? Vinyl now is coming back in fashion,
and there are people who collect such albums with a passion.
CDs languish in landfill, iPods a lost phenomenon,
but vinyl never lost its charm: Girl, put your records on…
(which happens to be the chorus of this dreamily lovely song by Corinne Bailey Rae)
