I went to the Look & Listen sale at Cavendish Square yesterday. Like most other music sales, it was a vaguely disappointing experience for me, although I did manage to find something that could be classified as a ‘bargain’, so it wasn’t a total loss.
Nobody can accuse me of not being an optimist, because despite the fact that these things never live up to their potential, I keep going to them. I suppose that ‘greedy’, ‘thick’ and ‘doesn’t learn from mistakes’ could also be added to the ‘optimist’ tag, but I’m complex guy, after all. It’s just that when I see piles of CDs arrayed in their jewel-cased glory, the hope springs in my breast that this time things will be different and I find their siren-call immensely difficult to resist.
The spell is quickly broken when I inevitably discover that practically every stack contains the usual mix of perennial clinkers that most people would rather not listen to, let alone own. My mood always takes a plunge when I find the very same copy of ‘The Best Of The Goombay Dance Band’ (scratched cover and all) that nobody bought at the previous sale. I’m sure there are people out there who just can’t get enough of Marillion, Teddy Pendergrass and Las Ketchup, but I’m not one of them.