I turned thirty five (35) a few weeks ago. When I made the mistake of projecting a little false bravado at work and exclaimed I was “halfway toward fourty (40)”, my co-worker pal—bless his little young heart—corrected me, and informed me—and all my co-workers—that I was, in fact, halfway toward goddamn seventy (70).
Thank you, Andrew. You bitch.
Emma The Cat writhes nearby; I feel her pain. She’s twelve years old, which in cat years means, well, I have no fucking idea, but it takes her a long time to sit down these days, so I know she’s feelin’ it. God, I love her.
Anyhoo, the point is I’m feelin’ old. I work alongside people who look askance when I say the word “album”. This is the MTV generation, people. Even though I was of the impressionable age when MTV burst on the scene, Nadine MacKenzie didn’t want to have anything to do with me even after I endured some Eurythmics video marathon with her, so I kind of gave up on the whole deal. Clearly, I was a visionary, because TV truly did kill the radio star. But that’s the topic of a whole series of posts that I really don’t have time for right now.
God damn, it’s taking a long time to get to the freaking point this time, isn’t it? OK, here we go:
About a year ago I bought Toast, because it came with stuff to allow one to digitize their vinyl. I immediately found out that to use my PowerBook for this endeavor, I’d need an iMic adapter for sound input. Six months ago I bought one. So for a year, the idea of digitizing my vast collection of albums was just an idea. Well, tonight for some reason I finally got the gumption to trot out the old stereo and turntable and set it all up. That was easy enough; now I needed an album. My 300+ record collection lie in storage in my crawlspace, still bound with twine from the move. So I grabbed the first pile, sliced through the twine, and came up with a gem from the eighth grade:
UFO’s “Strangers in the Night”.
That’s right, I like 70’s metal. UFO was a vehicle for Michael Schenker, who later formed the Michael Schenker Group (whose albums I also own, including a very expensive import live album that nearly broke this author when he was a fourteen (14) year old paperboy).
I’d set the connections, I’d set the levels. Shit, it had been a long time since I listened to this album. But through the speakers, I heard:
“hhhaaaahaaaa(crowd noise)... Hello Chicago! Would you PLEASE welcome, from ENGLAND, YOU, EFF, OH!!!!!!!! hahhhhhhhhh(crowd noise)”
Well, It only took seconds for me to commence with the air guitar and air drums for the intro, which, by the way, were note-for-fucking-note perfect.
Surely, more will come from this, but I am tired. But I have UFO’s live album digitized, baby. Got some air guitar to do. Seeya.