Monday, 27 August 2012

The Collector's Riddle

And in the sixties
with the music
and the youth explosion
came greater
freedom of choice.

So now you’ve
found that one –
that album
with depth
where notes
volley up on
bass notes to
elevate you
beyond these
four beige walls,
where rhythms
surprise like
de-railed express
trains jolted
from certain
commuter paths
and into the
dark, exciting,
wild wood beyond
will you
always play it?

Will you stay
with it, will
you cherish it as
much when the
marks, the
scratches pop,
crackle and
click like
arthritic limbs,
when the needle
has scraped
away the
soft subtleties,
when the grooves
lock and fail to
progress fluidly,
skipping over
coherent ideas and
repeating themselves?

Or will you
leave it on the
shelf, longing to
be slapped awake by a
younger, newer
noise, or
something daintier,
lighter, the
work of someone
who never grew
with you, was
never there
when you needed them,
and never formed the
backdrop, the
answer to your life?

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