square plastic memories

1:40am

One of the greatest treasures I own, that belonged to my Dad, is his CD collection, mostly from before I was born, and in my early years.

They are old, some broken, mostly scratched, and most have a old dirty piece of masking tape in the top corner with "MARK" written in permanent marker (its funny to imagine our parents living in messy, old share houses isn't it?) but I love them all so much, because it fascinates me thinking about my parents lives before me.

His collection is filled with the likes of Bob Marley, Counting Crows, Simon and Garfunkel, and his favorite band; Noiseworks.






Noiseworks were a semi popular band in the late 80's, they never really made it big, except for a few hit songs that were quickly lost in time.


My Dad loved this band.
He used to own a speed boat, and would race water skiing in competitions all through my very young years. He was such a fan of this little home grown band, he painted his boat up with "Noiseworks" written down the side and that was the name of his boat. That's love folks.




Being a child of the 21st century, I should apologize to the CD shop owners of the world, that we sort of ruined that side of the music business.
We may all have a music collection 20 times larger than that of our parents back in the day, but we cheated our way there. What with iTunes, and knowing the ropes of free downloading (I mean, what?) we are all totally satisfied in the sounds department.


However..
Our "music collection" isn't really that aesthetically pleasing anymore.
Album art is something nobody longer cares about.
Nobody cares about the heartfelt thank yous the band writes in the album booklet anymore either.
All people seem to care about is the sound, not the story that goes with it.




So,
I've started my CD collection. (Again)

Yes, its true, I bring them home, pop them in my laptop, upload them to iTunes, put it back in the case and none really get opened again.
But they are there and waiting, all the while collecting dust, to be moved from share house to share house, survive thieving housemates, and the turmoils of storage, and eventually be given to a confused looking future kid, who is ready and waiting to disregard the odd sounding old music saved onto them.



I am going to collect all the music I listen to now in its physical form, and remember that they, although all stupidly talented and deserve all the recognition in the world, are likely to be lost in time too.
Lets face it, only a select few live forever.









So my future offspring can hold my dirty old plastic memories in their hands too, and wonder about the dirty old share houses I lived in, the odd clothes I wore, the strange music I listened too, and what I may have been like before them.
What an exciting project!




Love you Dad xx
(and Mum!)