Back To The Sweet Shop - No.2: Pink Panther Candy Bar

Anything with the Pink Panther on it was cool. Plus it had his groovy car! Cool! And look - PP was clearly a smoker! Err...not cool. This was EXTRAORDINARILY sweet which surely would rot your teeth in an instant. Well, if you ate enough, which I could have done had I had the funds. 2p was a lot! And you don't care about teeth when you're a kid. Yeah, that will come back to haunt you later. Created by "NESTLE'S" - before they got up themselves and became just "Nestle" and in turn, evil. 

Cheap crappy sweets, you can't beat them. Of course the Pink Panther name lives on today with the cheap crappy pink wafer biscuits, which are also unbeatable.

The rinky-dink Pink Panther - a gentleman, a scholar and an acrobat.

Before They Were Famous - Pet Shop Boys

From THE SMASH HITS YEARBOOK 1983... an article about t-shirts. But can you spot the SMASH HITS writer who's part of an electronic duo, alongside his bandmate who just happened to be hanging around on the day of the photoshoot?

Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe, a pre-fame Pet Shop Boys.

The Marvellous Toys Of Gerry Anderson

On the 26th of December, Boxing Day, 2012, Gerry Anderson passed away, aged 83. He was best known to the public as the film and television producer who created the 1960's puppet show THUNDERBIRDS, along with CAPTAIN SCARLET AND THE MYSTERONS, STINGRAY and SPACE:1999. He passed away in his sleep, having been suffering from increasing dementia over the last few years. To those of us born in the 1960's or 1970's though, he along with his production teams, were visionaries. Our childhood would have been a great deal poorer without his shows, and the remarkable ideas and spectacle contained within. Most importantly, without Anderson, we wouldn't have had some marvellous toys to play with. So I can't think of any better way to pay tribute than to take a look at some of those toys...

Nearly all of the fantastic array of vehicles and spaceships which were featured in Anderson's many TV shows were reproduced in die-cast metal toy form by Liverpool toy manufacturer Dinky Toys, a subsidiary   of Meccano. What you got was a toy that would take some hammering - built to last. Looking at the catalogue extract above, I think I had nearly all of these and more - the Lady Penelope Pink Rolls Royce unfortunately never crossed my path. Some were new, some were second hand, but that was the thing about these toys - virtually every boy would have at least one of them.

I'm going to assume that anybody reading this has a bit of knowledge of the shows they came from. If not Wikipedia is your friend. Here's my top five...

5. U.F.O. SHADO 2 MOBILE

What to say about this bad boy? Don't drop it on your foot or you'll cause serious damage. And not to the toy. This thing was like a brick. The first thing to notice was that it didn't look the same colour as the TV version.This was a strange anomaly with almost all the Dinky Anderson toys - why? Not a clue, but I won't dwell on it, honest. Anyway, the caterpillar tracks were usually the first thing to fall off, but that wasn't a worry as that just meant it could travel faster across the carpet. Sorry, forest. The real beauty here was in the flip top roof, which at the press of a button flipped to reveal a lethal missile launcher. And I mean, lethal. A spring propelled rubber tipped plastic missile, ideal for firing at the cat, (who obviously was of extra terrestrial origin - see also the Starship Enterprise post earlier), and which, if it hit you in the face, could cause some serious damage. So, excellent work from Dinky! 

4. SPECTRUM PURSUIT VEHICLE

From the CAPTAIN SCARLET series, the titular character's tank like pursuit vehicle, the SPV, is another ingenious idea from Anderson's Century 21 team. And another potential lethal object if thrown at someone. Which kids do. Has it got gadgets? Does Brains stutter? Of course it has. Missile launcher at the front of course, but not as eye-gouging as the previous toy. Plus it rarely worked. Caterpillar tracks at the rear for reasons which never became readily apparent. These also tended to fall off as well. Radio antennae which could be raised or lowered. Plus, the main novelty... press the button on the roof and the side door shoots out to reveal a little Captain Scarlet figure sitting in his driving seat. "But he's backwards" I hear you say. Yeah, the novelty was he drove his vehicle sitting backwards using video screen technology. Cool isn't the word. Bloody brilliant. I loved this, though why I felt the need to more or less destroy it I'm not sure. Kids, eh?

 
3. UFO SHADO INTERCEPTOR

Okay, lets get the major plot defect out of the way now. The show UFO was about an ongoing series of visits to and attacks on Earth by a mysterious alien race. So far, so Mysteron. So there were defences put in place by the secret organizaton, SHADO (Supreme Headquarters, Alien Defence Organisation). We saw one of the ground defences earlier at number 5, and there were also the undersea launched Skydivers, which you couldn't buy as a toy. BUT as the main first line of defence against the alien UFO craft, we have the very green and cool looking Interceptors... with it's ONE missile, Brilliant. So if it misses it's useless. Good plan as a first offensive (slaps hand on forehead). In the real world of the living room, this really was a weapon. Yes, the missile DID fire. Yes it did hurt. Yes, it did make contact with fur. Did I mention it was the wrong colour? Because it WAS. Grrrr.

2. THUNDERBIRD 2 AND 4

Surely some mistake? This is the best toy ever! No. It's not. It's close but not quite. Because it was the wrong frigging COLOUR. Thunderbird 2 is GREEN. Always has been, always will be. Were they all colour blind at the factory in Liverpool? It is NOT BLUE. I had to wait another 18 years for THUNDERBIRDS to become popular again with a new generation of kids before I could get one which is the right colour, made by Matchbox. So I mark this down out of spite. And my original blue toy never worked properly because some bright spark at the age of 5 decided to take the screws out and take it to bits, and then lost the screws. Didn't lose the little plastic Thunderbird 4 that sat in the pod, mind you. Please note that anybody who says that Thunderbird 2 wouldn't actually be able to fly, as it's wings were the wrong way round aerodynamically, is a twat.

1. SPACE:1999 EAGLE

Yes, this SHOULD lose marks due to it being green but they corrected it for the freighter, so there. THIS is the dog's bollocks. It's got everything. Well, that's a lie, it does sod all, but in your childhood imagination, it did it all. It's got a pod, like Thunderbird 2, which separates from the main craft. The transporter's pod has two doors that open. That's it. We were happy with that! The freighter's pod carries nuclear waste (not really - only pretend. That would have been a bit much even in the slipshod Health & Safety free 70's) which you can winch down on a little bit of string and magnet. That was it. No missiles. The cat was safe.

Why was it so good then? It just was. A great example of design and the concept behind the craft was great - these were working functional ships built for multi-purpose use. They were believable  And that was the great thing behind all of the craft and cars from Anderson's shows - there was thought and effort put in to make them seem as if they'd work in real life. They weren't just tacked on, they helped make the world created for each show seem a little more real, despite the puppets and stiff actors who populated them.

So there you go. Five great Dinky toys I had, and loved, to the point of destruction in most cases. But toys aren't for looking at, they're for playing with.

I also had JOE 90's car.

It was shit. Still, 5 out of 6 isn't bad.

RIP Gerry.

Blimey! Is this really Top Of The Pops?

Design classic? Or sexist 70's tosh? Or an lame excuse to place photos of models from the 70's in this blog? Probably a bit of all three, but you decide, as we travel back to a time of power cuts, the three day week, the Rubettes and Big D peanuts. Let's examine the crumpet-tastic bri-nylon bargain bin world of the TOP OF THE POPS albums... and wonder, what the hell was that all about?

For anybody under the age of 30, this will all seem a complete mystery to them, and if they were aware of these records it could only be because they'd stumbled upon one in the corner of some tatty charity shop. But back in the early 70's, these albums really were the equivalent of the NOW series of compilation albums we see these days. Released by budget record label Hallmark (later Pickwick), the TOP OF THE POPS album (no connection to the TV series of the same name, of course) contained a selection of the latest Top 20 hit singles compiled onto one album, the albums being released every few months through the year.

Okay, so far, so good. But, and it's a big but, these records did not feature the original tracks or artists, oh no, they had cover versions, recorded by session singers and musicians to sound as close to the originals as the time and budget would allow. This usually meant nothing like the original. Fascinating fact: early albums contained vocals by the likes of Elton John (before he was famous) covering the hits of the day! The records would be sold in the local Woolworths and the like, where you could buy them for about half the price of a normal album. Voila - the latest sounds at half the price. Sort of.

Actual 1973 cover

Mock-up 2013 cover

The album covers however were very much of their time. Sex sells, and never was this as blatantly true as in the supersonic seventies. Each album's cover would be made up simply of the logo, the track listing and a large photo of a glamour model of the time, say Jilly Johnston. Your equivalent these days would be, I don't know, Lucy Pinder, Sophie Howard (right) or some other NUTS mag type. They would be depicted in a typically cheesy saucy pose, but nothing too suggestive. None of your FHM or LOADED poses back then, it was all a little bit more innocent. Was it right? Hmmm.

Anyway, that was it. No clever fonts or graphics. And you know, it's basic, but it works. It's all bit daft and lame, and the use of the models could, from today's point of view, be a bit contentious, but I think these have a certain sort of charm in a way, and is certainly to my eyes no more offensive that a "Carry On" movie is now. The covers have got that kitsch value yes, but there's an honesty about them that I like. No pretense,   you know what you're getting, there you go mate. Of course, post-Savile we're looking almost disapprovingly at anything like this, but this was how it was back then.

Now, I maybe i'm biased. And it's not about the ladies. I have got a soft spot for these records, as they always cropped up in the record collection at my Nan & Grandad's when I was living with them in the early 70's. Never ever knew if they were bought by them, my Mum or my Auntie. I always loved rifling through all their records, and even at five years of age, I knew that the TOP OF THE POPS covers were a bit rude, but why I wasn't sure. There wasn't any thoughts of sex going through my head back then, I was more bothered with "Look In" comic and whether Dr Who would defeat the Zygons next Saturday teatime.

But I loved to listen to the records, and read the crummy sleevenotes on the reverse, and look at the blue labels going round and round on the turntable... Most of the covers of the albums you see here are the actual ones that we had and that I used to listen to on the massive wooden Stereogram (look it up) we had in the front room (or parlour, if you will).

Throughout the seventies, these records apparently used to rack up massive sales, but soon other labels like Ronco & K-Tel got wise to this and released their own hits compilations, except they licensed the real tracks from the major labels for their albums, and soon these sales overtook the cheapo TOP OF THE POPS series, and so it went on, until the majors realised in the 80's they could make more money by releasing their own compilations, hence "NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL MUSIC 658".

I didn't know until I did some research on the web that these albums were amazingly still being released well into the 80's , as you can see here by these covers featuring the two top Page Three models of that time, Linda Lusardi and Samantha Fox (who'd have her own chart success a couple of years later). Who the hell was buying these albums God only knows, but as you can see the design hadn't changed much, but that logo was a mistake, looking dated even for 1984. You have to say that you'd perversely love to hear how bad their cover of Ray Parker Jnr's "Ghostbusters" would be, or how the months of production and mixing that Trevor Horn put into "Two Tribes" would be reproduced by the boys at Pickwick in their lunch hour. Well, you're in luck! 

Someone saw fit to upload the cover version of "Two Tribes" to You Tube and you can hear it just above! It is stupendously bad in the way that only a cover version done by a bad working men's club band could be. It's almost but not entirely unlike the music of Frankie Goes To Hollywood. It's similar only in the respect of it was also recorded by humans.

Of course, where there's a hit formula, there's imitations, and never more so that with the TOP OF THE POPS series. Rival budget labels such as Solid Gold, Music For Pleasure and Contour released their own hit cover compilations, but the designs for these were not as successful as Hallmark's classic design. Yes, the glamorous model's there but the concept's right off. I mean, what's the girl on the 12 TOPS sleeve above meant to be doing? Get your feet off the leather seats, woman. It's as if she's got her top caught in the seat or something. I'd love to hear the cover of "John I'm Only Dancing". Or "Mouldy Old Dough" for that matter as the original is horrible so Christ knows how a cover would sound. 

MFP's HOT HITS series at least had a theme for their covers, which was girls in a sporty pose. Which was an excuse for busty half clad models to be pictured playing football, rugby, tennis, boxing, scuba diving or motorcross. The designers for HOT HITS (well I say designers, probably some blokes in the office half heartedly shoving some Letraset onto some girlie pictures, thinking "that'll do" and then legging it to the pub), bizarrely even attempted to make skiing look sexy, with partial success. Oh look, she's fell over on the "snow". Silly bint. She's not even wearing any safety goggles. By God you've got to give the photographers and models their due as they tried their best. The album sleeves usually had adverts for other records in the series on the inner sleeves... and these looked even more disgraceful that any of these sleeves. I mean, "Sinful Rugby Songs"... it really was a different age back then.

Now, the record with the buxom archeress below was one we had in the house. Didn't have a clue or care who she was. It's only now looking back I recognize her as Caroline Munro, cult film actress, "Lamb's Navy Rum" poster girl and most importantly, the sexy helicopter pilot & Stromberg henchwoman Naomi from the classic 1977 Roger Moore Bond "The Spy Who Loved Me", as mentioned in my first post on this blog. 

Forget Barbara Bach, Caroline was where it was at, because she had the helicopter with machine guns and everything, trying to blow Bond's Lotus Esprit off the road. Cool. Best bit of the film and of course they were the toys to have!

But this is not a post about Corgi Toys. Boooo. That comes later. Hurrah. Back to the records. Of course it's only when you're older you notice Caroline Munro was bloody gorgeous, and that she was the girl in the Adam Ant "Goody Two Shoes" video and the hostess on the Ted Rogers quiz nightmare "3-2-1". Ahh. It all begins to add up. Anyway, I doubt she was any good at archery.

The rival albums to TOP OF THE POPS eventually died away, but a few did plod on in a similar fashion, making it to the early 80's but frankly, the whole genre was massively anachronistic by then, and didn't get seen anywhere other than market stalls who also sold James Last records, china dogs and teatowels. There's still a cult following for these records, and many sites on the internet where you can find much more information about them, far more than my toe dip in the water here. 

The lasting legacy of course is the idea that you can put out a compilation of the big hits from a variety of artists and it will sell. Back in the day, the TOP OF THE POPS albums DID get to the top of the pops! They got to number one. And we spin on now and the NOW albums do the same thing. They are a handy one stop shop for finding out what's popular in the charts. Just without half clad women on the front, which is a step forward. I'll leave you to decide whether these album covers are classics of their time or it's a load of old nostalgic wank, and certainly from today's standpoint they should never really have been allowed, but look at this last image below. 

If it doesn't make you laugh you've got no soul.

More info can be found at the following websites:

Uncovering The Art Of The Vinyl Sleeve
Easy On The Eye
Top Of The Pops - The Definitive Website

(An earlier version of this article can be found on my old website)

The Death Of The Record Shop?

Do you remember when you used to be able to buy music from a shop on the high street?

Of course you do. But, in a couple of years time, this question may seem less daft. About four years back, I wrote a post on my previous blog following the demise of Woolworths, looking back on my early record purchasing habits locally on the Fylde coast. In the light of this week's announcement that the last major high street music retailer, HMV, is in administration, and may disappear forever, I feel it's a fitting time to revisit that post and expand upon it, in light of the last few years.      

Anybody who's in their 40's surely remembers going out on a Saturday afternoon in their teens, and nipping into Woolies to have a look at the music on offer in their record department. If you were a bit flash and could afford to go "into town" i.e. for me that would be Blackpool, you might nip into Virgin, Our Price or the mighty HMV to buy the latest happening chart sound. Hey Daddio, get with the lingo. 

Young readers may be excused for thinking this is crazy talk and your writer has gone mad. No, foolish child, once upon a time, you could walk down the street and buy the latest top 40 singles from your average high street record or department store. Back in the day when I was a nipper (during the war) it was all vinyl. Black round things with a hole in the middle - ask your Gran. Seven inch singles mostly, with the odd twelve incher (ooh err, missus). Okay, there might be cassettes but who bought them? It didn’t always have to be record emporiums you’d go to for these shiny black treasures. I bought my first single ever, the glorious “Knowing Me Knowing You” by Abba (ah-haaa) from a box on the counter of our local television rental shop (“Focus” if I remember rightly).

In the 1970’s, even a small town like Fleetwood, where I grew up, had many varied outlets for records. The aforementioned TV shop. High street colossus Woolworths, who had the Top 50 (imagine that!). There was another small shop which I think was owned by a bloke called Steve Price, which always sold loads of coloured vinyl New Wave stuff and second hand discs, around about 1979. Even the bloody caring sharing CO-OP had a selection of discs. Granted, most of them were on the dreaded "Music For Pleasure" label but hey! A record's a record. What's wrong with James Last and "Hammond Hits For The Highway" anyway?

The shop that most punters went to in Fleetwood was the hallowed Record Centre, tucked away on Poulton Road, a shabby looking shop which sold loads of albums, the top 40 singles (always positioned directly above the counter - it would be pot luck if the proprietor gave you a single with a picture sleeve or not, but you wouldn't say anything anyway if you were unlucky) and of course, the necessary diamond stylus and "Dust Bug" for your record deck. They also sold electrical equipment like Stereos, Radios etc but these never seemed to shift. If anybody out there has proof that they managed to sell any of this other stuff, please let me know. Anyway, many an idle Saturday afternoon would be spent rummaging through their ex-chart singles looking for that elusive “Hungry Like The Wolf” picture sleeve, though mostly it'd be shite by Shakatak or the Barron Knights that you'd find instead.

If you ventured further afield into Cleveleys, there was the ever-reliable Cobweb record shop, part of a mighty local empire with additional outlets in Poulton-Le-Fylde and St Annes, and which was worth a look for the punk badges, Adam and the Ants seven inches and gazing at that copy of "The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy" soundtrack album that I never got round to buying. And what's more you could stare in wonder at these new fangled things called videos… wow, movies in your own home… but that’s another blog post.

Blackpool had yer actual big Woolies, WH Smith, the pokey basement record shop in Binns, the record bar in Boots department store... and then there were mysterious places like Ray's Melody Inn, frequented by serious looking older punters who intimidated you at the age of 10. No major specialist chains back then. In the early 80's there was a decent record shop above the Hounds Hill branch of Milletts. Now, looking back, this was a weird concept – wandering round tents and camping gear until you stumbled upon this oasis of musical wonder, complete with a little gate in and out. It was like some sort of musical grotto, and an bit of an adventure trying to get in there to buy “New Years Day” by U2. Of course, that’s supposing I could afford to buy a new record – usually it was back to scouring through the cheap ex-chart racks or the local newsagents for their selection of juke box records.

The floodgates burst around about 1983 when Ames Records (remember them?) opened on Bank Hey Street, swiftly changing to Virgin in 1985 before transforming into Our Price for the rest of the late 80's to 90's. Then a little branch of HMV opened on Victoria Street – I could never afford the records but it was just wonderful to browse, and see & hear some of the records I could only read about in Smash Hits or Number One magazine.

However, if we backtrack a little bit in my TARDIS to Fleetwood, 1980. There was a new kid on the block. Opposite St Peter's Church, next to the fruit and veg shop (too much detail?), a new store called “Soundtrack” records opened. This was a small modern bright shop which had loads of up to date new singles, usually with freebies like poster sleeves and badges. More to the point some new releases were cheap! Like 99p, instead of the usual £1.29 (okay, it seems like nothing now but this was 33 years ago!). On my limited budget, this was great. It was only many years later, long after the shop's demise that I would come to understand how they managed to make it such an Aladdin’s Cave of vinyl delights... when I came to understand the concept of the chart-return shop.

These were the shops to hunt down. In 1988 post sixth form, during my dole months, my cash would be squandered on a Friday afternoon down at Cobweb, or Sinfonia (run by the bizarrely named Sandy Mountain, situated on Cookson Street in Blackpool) where I'd take advantage of the new releases at these chart return shops. These CD singles and 12 inches were cheap because the record company reps would target these shops, giving them the latest singles at cut down prices in order to get them high into the charts for Sunday. So I’d get the latest Beloved single for £1.99, whereas poor old Record Centre or even HMV couldn’t compete, having to charge full whack. Now the downside in buying records so cheap was that you’d also end up buying some right shit along the way for 99p – Climie Fisher anyone? What was I thinking?

I was getting a bit savvy and realized that record deliveries were on Monday, so it would be best to get down there on a Monday lunch for the latest releases, and more important, the limited editions. Yep, I’m a mug for a special edition. Fine Young Cannibals in a tin? Yes please. Chris Rea Car shaped CD box? Why not. Voice Of The Beehive honey filled PVC sleeve? Oh go on. I'd buy any old bollocks at times.

It was amusing buying from Sinfonia, as owner Sandy was a full-on Christian and would take offence at the slightest thing in certain records, and try his very hardest not to sell them to you. He nearly didn't stock Happy Monday's "Hallelujah" for some reason. Then again, finding out what he did stock was near on impossible. He didn't display ANYTHING in the shop. Okay, some stuff was perched precariously on the shelves behind the counter giving a pretence of promotion, but it was hardly convenient having to ask him for everything. Eventually it got so haphazard behind the cash desk that I usually ended up having to go behind there myself and search through the piles of CD singles and cassettes for what ever I wanted. I went in there for one single once, and ended up spending £50 as I found loads of rare singles that were just tucked away forgotten about. Needless to say, his business didn't make it far into the nineties.  

Of course, in the early 90's, if you wanted your actual proper bosh bosh dance stuff, then a trip down to murky South Shore on the number 11 bus was in order, with a visit to the land that time forgot - Bond Street and Melody House. This was at one time predominantly a video & record shop, and had been there for donkey's years as the outside decor showed, but when Acid House arrived in 1988, it underwent a bit of transformation. Not visually, but the customers. This shithole was THE place to come for dance vinyl. You’d walk in, and after adjusting your eyesight to the murkiness you'd usually eye up about eight punters around the counter, getting the guy behind to “put this one on mate”. Meanwhile you'd pick up what you wanted, try valiantly to get served and usually be ignored. Customer service wasn’t the watchword there. If you weren't buying dance stuff then Debbie usually served you with a grudging demeanor. Swanny was the guy you wanted, he was friendly - he went on to work in HMV. We were on nodding terms - it's a record shop thing. Dance probably took up about 99% of the shop's trade - meanwhile the rest of the store, with it's old vinyl, VHS rentals and range of 50 CD's gathered dust, but if you persevered, the odd gem could be unearthed .

It was during the mid nineties when the Britpop era began in earnest that I frequented the independent shops less and less. Woolies had finally got it’s act together, plus HMV and Our Price were competing price wise (and you could rely on them actually having the stock on the shelves). Little did I know that this would be a watershed point in the record buying experience. The indies couldn't compete. Cobweb died out - I feel a little guilty as Jeff and Dave in Poulton were always good to me as a regular, but I had to abandon them as they couldn't compete. All the little shops went, and it was because we all shopped in the High Street shops. I'd hop down on the bus on a Monday lunch and nip into Our Price and HMV and play them off against each other in my head - I'd get the records I wanted and I'd get them cheap. It was an arrangement that suited me fine for a good five or six years. If you couldn't get it in one shop, there was always the another. Brilliant. Halcyon days indeed. Those "listening posts" were a pile of shit though. Listen to the latest albums through a set of headphones that nearly worked next to some shrieking Peter Andre fans. Cheers.

During the late 90's much of my serious record buying was done whilst in Manchester, where the real specialist shops could be found. In particular, Vinyl Exchange on Oldham Street was a regular haunt when in the city on a United match day. This was a different experience completely - you could spend all day in there rooting though the racks, and frequently I did. The counter service back then though was much like it was at Melody House - you'd have to fight to get yourself noticed and woe betide you if you were buying something uncool. Which I frequently did, risking the familiar blank stare of the so called assistant. Still, great shop. Similar customer service can still be found in Action Records in Preston, dear reader. I think it must be common throughout the World, if Nick Hornby novels are to be believed.

Then the internet came. Ooh. You can order these CD's from a place in Hong Kong three quid cheaper. Yes please. I don't even have to go into town to have a look. Great. And then came all the other on-line retailers... Play.com, Amazon... and suddenly the idea of buying a record in the shop seemed not only a bit old fashioned, but financially stupid. We should have seen this coming when Our Price was replaced with a Virgin Megastore, only for it to close a couple of years later leaving just HMV left as the sole record shop on a Blackpool high street. Yeah, there was Woolworth's and WHSmith as well, but they'd only be stocking a limited amount of CDs. Singles? They became harder and harder to find as the Millenium turned. One by one, the multitude of outlets disappeared. Yeah, you could go into Asda or Tesco and buy CD's but was that fulfilling the record buying experience you once knew and got used to? No. It was a sideshow to the mundane act of buying bread, washing powder and vodka.

And then Woolie's went kaputt. WHSmith pulled out of stocking music altogether. Music Zone and Zavvi came and went. HMV was, and is the last man standing (yeah, I know there's "That's Entertainment" but to be honest it's like a well stocked Cash Converters). The former top dog did get into the digital age, and still have a reasonable online presence. But their failure to take notice of the noticeable change in the markets and act upon it quickly enough left them standing looking stupid. Downloading music? It's a fad. Yeah, right. Wake up and smell the coffee. Like, that iTunes will never catch on.

They said in the 80's that "Home Taping Is Killing Music". It didn't, and neither did illegall downloading. But it may have helped kill the likes of HMV. I was as guilty as the next man of illegally downloading music. I did it back at the turn of last century and still do. My reasoning back then was - fuck 'em. I'd spent the best part of 15 years supporting the music industry, loyally buying music week in and week out and where had it got me? The music was as expensive as ever and becoming less value for money. There didn't seem to be any loyalty towards the consumer so I'd download for free. And the music I did buy, I'd walk around HMV, see it on the shelf, laugh at the price and go and buy it online or in the supermarket cheaper.      

It's an attitude that's still there in part. I'm now more likely to download something for nothing but if I like it enough, buy it for real as a CD. I'm still a bit old fashioned about paying for downloads. Call me Mr Luddite ("Oi! Mr Luddite!") but I like to have something in my hands if I'm paying £10.99 for an album. A "digital booklet" doesn't do it for me. But I'm getting better... but for years the managing directors at HMV ran around with fingers in their ears shouting "la la la", pretending this wasn't happening. They believed that the general public would always want to have a physical record buying experience. When this proved NOT to be the case, instead of looking at their pricing they panicked and went the other way filling the stores full of tat and electrical goods to show they could diversify. Durrrr. I refer you back to the good old Record Centre in Fleetwood during the Seventies and Eighties. No bugger bought anything other than the records. HMV is now full of iPod accessories, books, toys and other guff, which people will buy, just not from there. And to make room for all this other crap they cut down on their core business, the music. So there isn't actually that much on display, and what there is on display is massively overpriced. Stupidly in many cases.

At the moment, HMV is like a massive virtual Argos catalogue. You go in, look at the item you might want to buy, decide "yeah, I want that"... and then sod off and buy it cheaper elsewhere. To take the piss even more, you can do this, go on your phone and check the price against other retailers and then order it from the the other retailer there and then. In the shop. Yeah, stick it to the "man" why don't you. I've done it. It's what you do now.  Christ, I've even bought it from HMV's own website itself, whilst IN THE STORE, because the on-line price is cheaper than instore. That's not right. It's the equivalent of dropping your trousers in the aisle and curling one out right there. And then leaving. HMV should not be a shop window for Amazon.

So this week's news that HMV is in trouble is no surprise. For the last few years bad business decisions coupled with a massive change in the way we consume entertainment has left them, if you pardon the vivid imagery, on the outside of the train, trying to piss in. I don't want to see the stores close. It's been an integral part of my life, but to be truthful, it's nostalgia isn't it? Okay, that's what this blog is about, but really? What is the point of HMV in 2013? I don't walk in there with any purpose, like, wanting to buy anything. Go in there any day and you'll find lost souls wandering about like the living dead, desperately hoping to find something cheap to make actually being there seem it was worth the effort. That's not how a business should be. God bless the staff, I've not come across a more helpful bunch for a long time, it's not their fault but without a massive change in the firm's business model and generous leeway from the banks and suppliers, HMV won't be with us much longer and it's a shame because the goodwill is there on the part of the consumer. We don't want to see one of the last great British shops disappear.  

And poor old Nipper will have to go to Battersea.