DON'T TOUCH THAT DIAL
I think it’s time, I was saying the other day, to buy a jukebox. For $150, you don’t have to change the record every three minutes; that’s a lot less than you’ll pay for just an amplifier (though of course it won’t be stereo, blah blah blah — who cares?).
DON'T TOUCH THAT DIAL
Maybe It’s Time For A Jukebox
by Rodney Evon
I think it’s time, I was saying the other day, to buy a jukebox. For $150, you don’t have to change the record every three minutes; that’s a lot less than you’ll pay for just an amplifier (though of course it won’t be stereo, blah blah blah — who cares?). And you can look around a little, find a reliable oldies shop — I’ve lived in some pretty jerkwater communities that had stores which carried a healthy selection of old and new 45s, though that too might be changing — and start to build a collection. Even at $1.29 (the new industry price) a crack, 45s are still a bargain; you pay extra to avoid dealing with the dross that accumulates on albums that, once again, are being made up from one hit single and filler. (This time, though, the filler is “art,” the “true expression” of the singer’s innermost feelings . . . haven’t we been through all this before?)