Poems by Brother Ollie: the Tired Monk
I can hear the crackles! I remember when music ONLY came on vinyl and what a thrill it was to buy one with my scant dollars, bring it home, put it on the turntable.........and tapes - always getting tangled, causing grief at lost music. I only play cd's now......but this made me remember when I was more "involved" with the music:)....thanks, Ollie.
I've grown up in a world without vinyls and without all those sweet sounding crackles. This poem makes me wish I was a tad older, so I'd know what I'm missing.
I love vinyl; it has the best sound. I listen to most of my music in mp3 format now, I admit, but I have a record player from the 60s and a nice little album collection. I've always hated the sound of a record skipping, but your poem helped me see it from a different perspective. Every scratch is like a badge that says "I survived the 70s". My vinyl has history in it, and that's the most beautiful music of all.
Tire Monk likes what I like. Probably like Thelonius Monk, too.
a dying genre, a dying art. Can we keep it alive in our digital world?
Thanks for helping with the development of Olsonomics.