Life Before Pete Townshend

My tiny record stand was shaped like a lyre and had a capacity for fifteen albums. Unless I padded it with Alvin and the Chipmunks or the Singing Nun, it would remain half-empty. Fearing reprisals from my friends who had older siblings with collections that boasted Machine Head and Brain Salad Surgery I’d frantically comb my pile looking for the least dorkey cover to place at the front of the stand. Once in a panic I settled on The Cowsills and lived to regret it. A great jettisoning of titles occurred. Except for Liberace’s Rhapsody in Blue. Coolest. Record. Ever.