I must have developed a taste for nihilistic melancholy as a toddler. As early as I can remember, I loved “Dust in the Wind” from Point of Know Return by Kansas. As a child, I would play the 45 over and over again.
Except in popular music (I confess to being hopelessly lost to the filth of pop culture), the 1970’s were an aesthetically challenged decade, eh?
It is a bit sad that many of our iPod youth do not even know how record players worked. They marvel at vinyl as some artifact from a lost civilization. My mom still has thousands of records. Their spacial and care requirements make the digital age understandable, but scrolling through a list of MP3’s just does not satisy in the same way as carefully removing an album from its sleeve and placing it gently on the record player. When you move the arm over, lower it down, and hear the initial hiss before the song begins, you act out your own hieratic D.J. liturgy; joy comes in the ritual.