Martin Bridgeman

I thought of the many years we spoke, laughed, smiled, sighed in admiration at a new arrival and just shared our love of music and musicians of all styles, shapes and sizes; we disagreed on some, agreed on many and, when push came to shove, we shared some really special moments of discovery together, something common to many people who ever spent longer than 5 minutes in that have on Kieran Street.

One special memory is the 50th anniversary of the release of the Revolver album in 2016. Bridgey Bridgeman baked a ‘groovy’ cake and I brought it in to have on the counter. It was a work day so no one else turned up. Willie and I shared a slice of cake and chatted about his take on this (in my humble opinion) groundbreaking album. For the 30 odd minutes it was just two mates enjoying music. No one came near, to quote a lyric from McCartney.

I know he would reserve a special (seeming) sneer for every DJ playing at Record Store Day, look out over the choices and pass comment the odd time, but my memories of RSD are of his subtle movement behind the counter, grooving away, head deep in spreadsheets and/or a bun, the grin never far from his lips, drinking it all in, willing the day to go well for everyone, for this day to be a first for someone to find their favourite band, a new group of like minded friends, another step and build of this community.

Dave and the team will take up the mantle as only they can, continuing the great traditions of one of the most decent people I have ever encountered in the music business or life generally.

My final decision on the set will be made tomorrow afternoon sometime…and if he was behind the counter he’d shrug in disapproval at my Zeppelin track, so I will play one for definite…

Come down, buy something, stick around for the DJ sets, make it a regular excursion after that. You know it makes sense.

Postscript  (22/4/2018):

And so, a fun day of celebration ensued, lovely food, laughs, nods of approval, a few tears along the day. The sun pushed out and t-shirts got their day out too. No one’s taste was suspect, we were all there for the right reasons, some new tunes and artists blasted out on to the bright day. A few curious passersby and tourists looked on as people literally danced in the street. I was on air that morning and had a few things to do so arrived later in the afternoon, fully expecting things to have calmed down, but no; the tills rang, RSD releases went in to bags and the ages mingled, new generations finding the allegorical baton in their hards, smiling faces watching some people making their very first purchases, sensing the fellowship of music lovers.

Outside on the now sadly closed Roots And Fruits ledge where we spent many an RSD, familiar faces sat, taking  in the sunshine and the tunes, lapping up the memories. We knew we had to, the sense of things being transient and there to be enjoyed at the time was silently understood. We felt his smile was there somewhere. Inside, the team worked their delicate shuffle behind the counter. He would have been proud.

On a personal note I could feel the familiar anxiety reappear though. “Will this set actually work? Will I literally clear Kieran’s Street? Is now the time to let people hear the glorious drone of ‘Krautrock” from “Faust IV” in all its glory? Oh right, that song, I should have chosen that album. That’s a crafted set…Ah here I was going to play that! When am I on again? I should have checked each of the albums again. What if they skip? How do I get the cue thing working?” Another minute passed, another little memory created. I settled.

I got to play for the final 45 minutes and had at least three separate sets in my head. I agonised for hours on Friday night and yet, at the last minute and a half hour earlier (and 30 minutes less fretting) I was up. Sliding carefully behind the decks (some of us need an XL passage way as well as t-shirts!) I was lining up my first track when a woman came in with her young daughter, right up to the decks and said “Now love, THEY are records!” The daughter had the loveliest beaming smile, particular to the curious child as she watched the record spin around and she looked up at her mother, still smiling. We chatted about how brilliant it all was, this tiny bit of plastic squashed in to 180 grams of magic. We also chatted about mixtapes, the lost art form beloved of the lovelorn and wannabe DJ, something that was crafted to impress, cajole, share and hopefully produce a new fan of a favourite artist.

The last track finished. I was up.

Record Store Day 2018 at Rollercoaster : Setlist

Track/Artist(Album)

1984 – David Bowie (“David Live”)
Running Up That Hill – Kate Bush (“Hounds Of Love”)
Back In The USSR – The Beatles (“The Beatles” aka The White Album)
Going For The One – Yes (“Going For The One”)
Driven To Tears – The Police (“Zenyatta Mondatta”)
I Can’t Get No Satisfaction – Devo (“Be Stiff”)
Teenage Kicks – The Undertones (“The Undertones”)
I Believe – Swim (“Sundrive Road”)
I.G.Y. – Donald Fagen (“The Nightfly”)
One Day Without You – John Martin (“Sunday’s Child”)
Fine Lines – John Martin (“Inside Out”)
Black Cow – Steely Dan (“Aja”)
Riptide – Robert Palmer (“Riptide”)
Tomorrow Never Knows – The Beatles (“Revolver”)

(Also in reserve was “Faust IV” as mentioned but as there was no need to clear the premises it was not needed…)

I went for opening tracks mainly to remember those moments when your heart skipped a beat, a memory was created, a moment savoured. A few others were favourites down the running order of albums. One, by Swim was a personal favourite beloved because of a dear friend who wrote all the lyrics, who sang them and who mentioned me on the album cover. More memories

(Incidentally, I had a Zeppelin track lined up but when I went to the album the second disc was not there. I am as sure as I can be that I heard a cosmic chuckle from the boss.)