Back in 2010, I was in a bad way. Some days, I still am. Such is life. One day, I decided to try to do something about it by putting things in order and perspective in the only way I knew how to do without the presence of other people, by letting my record collection tell my own story through the way that I listened to other people’s music and how that coloured in my own experiences, whether mundane or catastrophic. Nobody was ever going to see it, I’d get all my ducks in a row once more and I’d probably go off and do something else in a few weeks anyway.
I don’t think I realised how much I’d enjoy it. Yeah, some of the reminiscence was horrible (and still is), I’ve probably exhausted all my major milestone things (except two, and with reason) and it didn’t really help much anyway to the point that I rarely do any soul-searching on here any more. But things are made to change, and I’m still here five years later with a subscription to renew. Hi.
To mark this occasion such as it is, I have decided to get drunk and mess about a bit, because if none of this is any fun, we may as well all bugger off right now. And what better way to have fun than to get angry about dumb listy articles about how you should collect, cherish, maintain and otherwise fetishise the way you enjoy listening to stuff…