The red Dansette is safely installed. All I need now is a rack for my many dozens of 7″ singles.

Some of the singles could be placed in a bag and taken to a charity shop. I would have no intention of ever playing them.

Records like Terry Jacks’ Seasons in the Sun might go. It wasn’t just miserable, there were plenty of miserable songs, it was morbid.

In my memories of 1974, it had seemed like a reworking of Tom Jones’ awful Green, green grass of home. Tom …