I started buying records in 1975 aged 7. I would visit Woolworths in the Arndale Centre in Leeds on a Saturday each week to buy a single from the Top 40. Over the years I accumulated an eclectic collection, often songs were chosen as much for their cover artwork as the music itself. I adored these small objects as they spun over and over on my record player. When I left home aged 18 I didn’t take much with me. I imagined my parents would leave my bedroom as it was, like in the movies: a shrine to my youth. I was wrong. They immediately papered the walls and redecorated in pale pink and magnolia, it was like I’d never been there. All my belongings went into boxes and were stored in the garden shed. On trips back home I would sleep in this strange pastel coloured room that no longer held any memories or mementos to my teenage years. On one of the trips home I asked if I could collect my books and records to take back to London. My mother looked puzzled at my request and said “Oh we don’t have that stuff anymore, we had a big bonfire in the garden and burnt all that rubbish, it was going mouldy in the shed.” They looked shocked when I broke down in tears and screamed and shouted. I could picture the blaze with my mum and dad casually flicking my treasured records like Frisbees one by one into the flames and watching them crack and melt in the heat. I could also imagine the sound. The music and voices of my pop heroes and heroines all singing and playing in unison as the flames rose around them. Rising up above the fire the noise they made must have been heard for miles around. After 2 days I was still mourning my loss, my dad said. “Jesus George don’t be so dramatic, grow up you’re almost 20 years old, and it was just a lot of noise anyhow”

This is 40 records from my childhood record collection played at the same time.

This is my Top 40 on Fire.....