Put down that Guetta CD and step away from the Katy B

I have a confession to make: I have got to that stage where I look at my parents’ record collection and I think you know what, they’ve actually got some taste. The (now occasional) family car journey no longer throws up so many bitter musical conflicts, usually resolved which clever negotiations trade-offs, dad fuming that me and my brother need some ‘musical education’, and the inevitable compromise of Coldplay, or something similarly mediocre. And I can buy well-chosen albums at birthdays and Christmases for my family now, even if I don’t always fully approve.

I feel I am not alone in this. But I will leave it up to you, dear reader, to decide, and to judge whether my taste is developing like a fine wine or becoming as stale as old cheese…

Imag: Alexandre Normand via Flickr