There are two types of people: those who think vinyl is awesome, and those who find the hipster hijack painful,” said my flatmate. It was a Sunday and Lou Reed had died only hours earlier. We were listening to Transformer on a vintage vinyl (obvy) on my roomie’s record player. Reed would have hated us — two middle-class east London-dwelling upstarts waxing lyrical about the beauty of vinyl. For years, record shops were the preserve ... Read More →