I popped into the British Heart Foundation shop on my way home. Without any consideration, I’ve spent 50 quid on a record player/turntable/whatever they are called. This is my Goldring G101/2 turntable unit. It spins as it should and that’s all I know. The whole unit is redundant without an amplifier. I, typically, have no idea what an amplifier is meant to do.
I searched on the internet last night for turntables and inevitably there was a vast array of choice, too much choice, far too confusing. I decided I must have a record player as soon as possible, managing to put myself in as much confusion sat in the living room as I was when searching the web last night.
I wish I could call this an impulse buy, however, I’ve considered collecting vinyls for some time now. This is more of an impatient buy. I wanted something and I wanted it now. This is typical behaviour from me, particularly when it comes to music. I’m exactly the same in terms of gig tickets and merchandise, regardless of whether I need it or can afford it.
Consideration turned into commitment yesterday as I found a Chuck Ragan album on vinyl with a beautiful case. Absolutely not something I could have walked away from. It really didn’t make much sense to buy a record before the player, but acting on my wants is very rarely logical anyway.
Now I’m sat with a turntable I can’t use and I have no idea how to get an amp to get it to work. The logical response would be, take it back, say it doesn’t work, get a refund.
Only this turntable/player has an element that I just can’t help but be attached to. This player is older than I am, nearly double my age in fact. The aesthetic quality is wonderful, with only a few scratches on the woodwork. More than anything I want to hear it’s sound. I want to know how music sounded to my Mom when she was young. (albeit, she was two when this specific model was purchased, but she raves about vinyl.) I also don’t want a piece of history to be sat on a shelf, or even worse, be put in the bin if I have the chance to make it work, if I get the chance to keep a piece of history with me.
Maybe a couple danced along to their favourite song being played on this thing, maybe it belonged to an alcoholic who played the same record repetitively, maybe, well, maybe anything.
Maybe (hopefully) I wont have to take this back to its shelf. Maybe I’ll be able to make it work and maybe (hopefully) I’ll get to listen to this;