As a small boy the trip to Gateway food store with mum was a lifeless chore of dolour, Cavendish Square Swindon 1976 wasn’t the greatest of shopping experiences, but unfortunately, back before caring, it was all we had. Amongst its sparse but rich selection was Dewhurst, spilling the sweet sickly stench of death, permeated into the sawdust footprints of its patrons.
There is something long forgotten and quite magical about the printed picture. In the same way I think that people have returned to the allure of the dusty vinyl, and surely not for the sound quality, but to actually hold within your fingers a physical object, to explore the text, admire the imagery and feel as though you have something of substance.
