ghosts in the machine

I get a shock when I listen to this machine.  I call Anniemay - she puts on the headphones and listens too;  “Wow.  Can you save it?”.  No I can’t, but I have a copy somewhere on CD.  But it’s not the same.  Somehow, listening on headphones, fills my head with ghosts.

This machine is the first digital recording device I ever owned.  It’s been in loft for years and I brought it down this afternoon because someone wants to buy it.  So I thought I’d better check that it still works properly.

I hadn’t expected to find any recordings on it.  It’s a bit like finding a box of old photos.  Memories flow through my ears rather than my eyes.  I’ve lost touch with a couple of the musicians and one is no longer here, but their ghosts are in the machine.   

And that’s where I decide to leave them. The new owner can decide their fate. There will come a time when the hard drive becomes full of new material and these old recordings will have to be deleted. But for now they can stay.

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