First Single

Do you remember the first record you ever bought?  I was reminded of mine last night, at the weekly gathering of my ukulele group. It was August or September 1957, I was 8 years old and was taken to Bill Harding's music shop in Newquay. Here's what I came away with. Actually, this is someone else's, spotted on eBay, but mine was just the same. I even remember the green label, proclaiming it to be Diana, by Paul Anka.
If you're anything like as old as me, you'll quickly spot that this is a '78' record (that is, one that had to be revolved at 78 rpm).  By this time, the classic 7 inch '45' was more popular, and continued to be so until relatively recently. I vaguely remember Bill trying to sell me one, but that would have meant playing it on dad's radiogram and disturbing the peace of the lounge.  A '78', however, could be played in the seclusion of my bedroom, on my very own wind-up gramophone that I'd recently been given, along with a load of old records. 

Ah... memories. That old gramophone was a black Columbia model, with a wind-up handle on the front that folded into a slot, and a snazzy little lever on one side to adjust the record speed, though I never found out why one would need to do this. Perhaps the clockwork governor mechanism was prone to be a bit wonky. On the other side was a flip-open container for gramophone needles.  It didn't take long on Google Image to find the very one. 

More memories.  I've been trying to recall the bundle of old records that came with the gramophone, but only three come to mind.  There was Alexander's Ragtime Band, Flanagan & Allen singing Umbrella Man and a strange recitation called 'Twas Christmas Day in the Cookhouse, with Please let me sleep on your doorstep tonight on the flip side. They all dated from the 1930's, so were already vintage when given to me. I must have played the latter quite a lot, as I remember most of the words, but won't bore you with them here.  

Diana turned out to be the only '78' I ever bought.  Within a year or so, Cliff Richard was transforming the pop scene, dad gave up the struggle to keep his radiogram to himself and that old gramophone was consigned to the dustbin, along with the broken remains of its records.

Now enthusiastically walking Memory Lane, I tried to find a photo of the music shop in Fore Street, Newquay. Remarkably, Google came up with the very place, though taken many years before Bill Harding moved in. Here it is, on the right, as Clifford's Drapers & Milliners.

Then I found this on Graham Hicks' website.  Wow!  Thank you, Graham.  I remember you, and Coconut Grove, though I'm sure you won't remember me. I've changed a bit since those days, and in more ways than one.

So to last night's ukulele session.  It was strange indeed to be singing Diana again — a nice little tune, though not hard to see how Cliff, Gerry and the Pacemakers, The Beatles and The Stones would soon sweep it into the history of my affections. The opening lines, however, did raise a smile...

I'm so young and you're so old,

this, my darling, I've been told.

Guys, I really don't recommend telling your girlfriend that she's "so old". It would surely hasten the end of a beautiful friendship!