Sometimes things happen for a reason. You go searching for something and find a different thing, or you go searching for one thing and find seven.
The great vinyl gods looked down and decreed that the search for a decent copy of Hunky Dory would not be in vain and fortuitously a great trove of Bowie would be discovered.
In the shape of seven somewhat tatty covered but excellent condition vinyl Bowie albums. Not only seven albums but seven of the albums you would actually want including the elusive Hunky Dory that I watched go on eBay the day before for almost $70. This all cost the princely sum of $55.
Some of them look their age, some splits on seams and ring marks and a little worn on the edges but the vinyl is in great shape, quiet and clear.
So here I sit reliving that day in 1977 when cousin Tony placed that album on the turntable and made me listen to Hunky Dory all the way through without speaking.He then insisted I describe the experience in one word, as usual I didn’t really have anything to say.
Since that day I have managed to make Bowie one of the few artists I can say I have taken the time to listen to everything, yes even Tin Machine, when it came out. Sometimes frustrating, infuriating but always relevant Bowie has been with me, at times a secret but always there in the background swaggering and swaying as I struggled to make sense of the world and relationships and politics and life, he has not always been helpful either.
It has also added to that perennial favorite drunken argument who is more relevant Bowie or Morrison.
The correct answer being Bowie, although someone once threw me for a curve with Barrett.
Now I am off to start the listening as everything is now clean.