concept
just think of it: everywhere out there, is stuff that is destined to be yours. in a bin underneath some crap is some gold. walk down that aisle and look on a shelf, and that certain something is sitting there collecting dust until you pick it up and claim it, add it to your collection. for me recently, these elusive and beckoning items have been records. finds of the last week are: best of janice joplin in a stack of mostly barbara streisand and duran duran vinyls at the humboldt goodwill. and today, little did i know when i woke up this morning that i would find a pristine copy of elvis costello's my aim is true in a goodwill in dyersburg. it's all just out there, (apparently in goodwills,) wishing for an owner. waiting for me, for you. records love me. i've always had a collector's mentality, of course, but the last few months i've been obsessed with the acquiring and massing of those beautifully grooved black disc. i love the sound and the scratch and the pop of the needle. tell me i'm not a junkie; my desire involves a needle and the feel of that sound in my veins. anyone not feeling music in his veins isn't listening correctly. i will find all of you that are out there. in my mind's eye i can sense places in stores in cities i don't know yet, and the radiation from all the records i've yet to own are ticking away their half-lives just waiting for me to earn the money to pluck them from their shelves. o yes--brocktree