Here's a picture, taken earlier this week, of 1/3rd of my record collection. There are twice as many again on the other wall to your left.

A few weeks back I posted on Facebook that I was about to sell off my record collection, and it created quite a stir. I'd never really thought about the emotional connection to that big slice of my history. So I sat down and really pondered it.

I tried to relate to why it was that people seemed so vicariously connected to the idea of 'surrendering your history'. I went back a few times to my lock up, and sat there with the vinyl ... I pulled chunks of it out of the racks and sifted through, seeking connections, expecting a wave of reflection to surge over me and perhaps for memories, or tears, to come. 

But they didn't. At all...

From the day I began working with CDJs and playing CDs and then off USB sticks, I have never looked back. I haven't played a piece of vinyl in 10 years ... though I've kept a special selection for myself. I've always felt that the sounds themselves are the communication however they are delivered, far and above the medium, and in many ways it felt like a necessary step in refining my world, shedding some skin, and moving forward in life with a clean slate. 

Now that all 5000 have gone and are starting to appear on The Vinyl Curtain via Discogs, I feel like I've taken another huge sigh, and another step on the road to restructuring and rebuilding my life and career. It was the right decision for me.

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