About 3 years ago I bought this Tomaso Albinoni record that skipped on a five count halfway through a song. I liked the idea of something that looped...organically?
--- Evan Schiefelbine
All we ever heard was the same record playing over and over again. Was it the little old lady who played it or the rarely-seen, dumpy-looking son? Every night, exactly at 8:30. A skip in-between to flip the record over and then the music continued. Every night for years.
One night, there was no music. We checked our watches, glanced up at our clocks. The neighborhood slowly trickled out into the street. Murmurs, whispers, nervous glances. Why wasn’t the music playing? The front door opened. The dumpy-looking son walked out, wiped his eyes, shut the door quietly and shuffled down the street.
--- Kevin Malone