Nostalgia's not what it used to be

Back in early 1983, I received my first radio cassette recorder as a birthday present. My twin sister and I had been given a 'disco party' in our living room, which was great. Now, as well as being (in my eyes) a king of  hospital radio in Liverpool, my uncle had been a mobile DJ for years. So he brought some disco lights to add to the ambience – plus some posters to put on the walls. Why they were posters of Bob Seger (who I'd never heard of), I don't know. Anyway, having the same, long-since sold Hitachi TRK 5351L radio cassette recorder as my uncle was also really cool. I couldn't stop listening to the radio, Spandau Ballet were at No.1 with 'True' and life was good!

These memories came flooding back yesterday, when I received a pristine 7" copy of 'Come Dancing' by The Kinks delivered to my door for the equivalent of a couple of quid. It wasn't a No.1 hit. In fact, it only reached No.12 in August 1983. I can't even play records over here in Switzerland as I don't have a turntable – so I could only drool at the gleaming vinyl and the great condition of the 31-year-old picture sleeve. I always have to wait until my next trip to the UK before I can play my latest purchases. But I had to buy it because of the time in my life that it harks back to.

This particular song also got me thinking about the mechanics of nostalgia itself. The melody evokes my first experience of unhindered access to recorded music and the beginnings of an obsession with pop charts and classic tracks that continues unabated. But why should the lyrics – Ray Davies' homage to the bygone era of courting at dances in the '50s and '60s – appeal to me?  Well, they told a story, something most pop songs have failed to do since. But most importantly, the song randomly happened to be on the radio when I was at my most impressionable.

Everyone has their own soundtrack determined by their age and the music available to them at key times during their formative years. It's why 1983 will always be my favourite year of music and, conversely, it's why a lot of current music passes me by. It's not for me. How nostalgia will manifest itself in the future is anyone's guess. But the increase in younger people buying (new) vinyl can be interpreted as a backlash against today's omnipresent, digitalised and intangible formats. In contrast to my hefty batches of 7"s schlepped between two countries, the weight of a full or an empty mp3 player is the same. Perhaps people simply want more bulk for their buck.

I'll be visiting two more flea markets tomorrow to unearth more treasures. So far I've only had jumps/scratches with four of the scores of singles I've bought recently. I'm just happy that my musical pre-midlife crisis is proving such an easy quest to complete.