Tower Records in Glorietta used to be pretty. It is now shabby and untended. It has become so unappealing that I now associate it with very old underwear, and I don’t know why. Tower Records is no good for CD-hunting anymore, and the MP3 revolution is to blame. And iPod and iTunes. It used to be three-storeys and now it’s just a tiny hole in the fringes of Glorietta 2. If I hadn’t been a barista I would have wanted to work at Tower Records and I would not have cared if we have to wear silly aprons. It looks like a fun job.
I met with Al, a Tori Amos-obsessed, semi-kalbo, 30-something guy. We agreed to meet because he was going to give me copies of all of his Tori Amos live recordings. The night before we met, we agreed that This Is Not Going To Be An EB. And it wasn’t. He really just gave me the CDs and I was profuse with thanks. It’s important for me to say because it is.
It was reassuring to know that certain people are actually interested in the stuff that they talk about in forums. He gave me After the Rain, Blood Girl, VH1, MTV Unplugged and other live albums, which I could find anywhere in the world. He also turned out to be a lucky charm because I found Air’s Moon Safari and Sneaker Pimps’ Bloodpsort on Tower’s pre-owned section. I offered to treat him to a coffee and he declined. What a great guy.