I have been slowly purging bits of my vinyl. Nothing too shocking. So far I have only offloaded about 50 pieces, none 'valuable.' I am intentionally going about it in a very slow, giving way. I have a box that sits out in front of our house on nice days, slightly outside the reach of the sun; in the box sits the discarded.
I hope that someone finds joy in the assortment: old, strange thrift store finds with more amusing covers than sounds... electronic music that has failed the test of time... religious records that offend more than they amuse me...
The curbside records seem to slowly vanish, which is nice considering the light traffic we have along our street.
Today I have been pulling records to add to the box, though I have often changed my mind. One of the pieces rescued was Legion Of Green Men's 'Spatial Specific'.
'Spatial Specific' is far from a great album, especially now. As I listened to the song "Synaptic Response", however, I suddenly remembered so much of that era (mid-90s). The desert sunrises... the deep, quality, ridiculous times with friends... the lifting of heavy speakers... trespassing for the sake of gathering... all of it so golden.
This song, so imperfect, seemed to still hold so much within it.
I guess I will hold on to it for a bit longer.