I've been struggling for music to listen to recently, though there's always plenty about. Just none of it really grabs me. So sitting there in the kitchen, as I usually do on a Friday night, staring at various racks and piles of CDs stashed in corners and under shelves and in cupboards and gathering dust, I figured, there must be loads of good stuff that I own that I've simply forgotten. And soon enough we'll move house again, so maybe instead of just crating it up as usual, I'll start early and try and systematically listen to each and every bloody one. Well - perhaps not systematically, but just wherever the fancy takes me.
What's left in the collection isn't of course everything I've ever owned; it's a ragtag bunch of leftovers that never got culled in previous shifts (in taste or in house), but it can serve as a broad sweep of the fancies and obsessions I've been through over the years. My biography in discs, a discography in its most literal form.
