It’s A Mod, Mod World

I’ve been a fan of the Mod Father ever since I purchased a vinyl copy of the Jam’s In the City. For a rural living, Welsh boy this was the height of modern living.

But I wouldn’t call myself a bona fide Mod. I never owned a scooter, although I did have a weather-beaten parka with a nice hood for the windy and wet days of my youth. I didn’t wear Fred Perry, but I joined a tennis club. I did, however, have a pair of old-school oxblood Doc Martens that were my pride and joy.

I didn’t even have a turntable, but my Dad did. A Sony one with the required rpms and four wooden legs that made it an 80s luxury that could be moved from room to room like a splendid throne of sound.

Of course, I could only play my music between prescribed hours. I could park my album on the turntable and try to play both sides before my Dad’s metre expired and he slipped Barry White or Simon & Garfunkel from their sleeves.

Gradually, though, I required more vinyl than my Dad. And this allowed me to stake out a longer listening time.

I had a more modern sensibility than a Mod persona.

So it was fun to discover this Website:

It gives me the feeling of being the Mod Father’s son, even though I never was or never will be.

But we all need to be someone with his all mod cons in one basket.


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