When records had the timing of the tracks on the sleeve or label, I loved it. Obviously it appeals to the obsessive, over-focused mind and the longer the track, the better I assumed it’d be, for reasons I’ve never quite worked out. But I was not alone. Lads at school would bring in an album and declare the second side was 21-minutes long, in awed tones.
Perhaps it was that it somehow defined ‘rock’ as opposed to ‘pop’ music, which was, for a time, important to my self identity. It became such an obsession that I began timing the tracks myself if they were not stated on the record and sometimes even if they were. Surprisingly, they were often inaccurate and I became determined to correct these inaccuracies, noting the correct times down on a piece of paper and putting it into the album sleeve.
Timings excited me. I recall I had that 1976 copy of Man’s Bananas performed live at the Roundhouse. It was 15-minutes long, split over both sides, one 7-minutes 33 seconds, the other 8 minutes 8 seconds . I thought this was magnificent that two such long sides for a single were on the same record.. I loved that record and cherished it for many years.
Then there were the really short records that came in under 30 minutes. Pink Moon by Nick Drake wasn’t even 29-minutes. That was cheating I thought. Roxy Music’s debut was only 28:44.and that met with my disapproval. Double albums with 4 short sides were a swizz I thought. I remember ELO’s Out Of The Blue was just 70-minutes. Ten Years After’s Recorded Live has 17-minute sides. But I loved that.
Beyond that, I was always enamored by a ‘suite’ in 3 or 4 parts. It felt like serious music, when my choices were defined by my parents as trivial or frivolous.
I’m sure this wasn’t unique to me. Though we didn’t think it at the time, it was all part of the culture of records that I loved so much.
