Day 101. The lord mayor's parade. (11/4/19)

It's the morning after the day before. What are you supposed to do?

After the epic struggle of figuring out 100 great Scouse songs (and realising after about five minutes on Twitter that you'd missed out two people you know and whose work you love and have shared before) anything else could feel underwhelming.

So, while you hopefully delve into the gift that's going to keep giving, what am I to do? What am I to talk about to keep this while thing moving forward?

I could talk about Record Store Day. While I was at HMV I was vehemently against it. Basically through professional annoyance. I knew I was managing a record shop (they're shops, not stores but I've come to terms with the Americanism of the whole venture) and couldn't see any reason why I shouldn't be involved in the fun.

Plus, I was obviously working that day, there was no way I could go and queue for something interesting. I'd just see it on eBay the next day for a price approaching somewhere in the region of ludicrous.

I appreciated the need for it, the way it would draw people to the independents, give them a payday that would make a difference to their continuance. Basically act as their Christmas. I have friends who run record shops, I know exactly how important this is to them.

And I was still in my 'CD is way better than vinyl' phase. Despite not having a CD player at the time. Or a record deck. Well, not a working record deck. I had the deck, had the speakers, just didn't have the amp.

And then Michael Head's new album was released. Initially on limited red vinyl. Ordering that meant buying a new amp. Well, J buying me a new amp for my birthday.

Luckily, being a hoarder meant that I had never let a single piece of vinyl go. All my vinyl (and the plural of 'vinyl' is 'vinyl' not 'vinyls' - ''Vinyls' is a hideous plural invented by hipsters and should be abandoned forthwith) remains .

And the truth is - some vinyl sounds better than the CD, better than the download. Some sounds worse. A good piece of vinyl can sound warm and immediate. A bad piece, generally a new piece, won't. New vinyl for new recordings can sound reedy and thin. If it's not 180 grams it's probably not worth the hassle. If there's no weight to it it's not worth it.

And bear in mind, it's only ever going to sound good on good gear. On this desk, here: a decent turntable (though I need a better one), a good amp and some pretty damn decent speakers I've had for twenty years.

Everything goes through the amp: Apple Music, the CD drive, the iPods, the turntable. I'm sat right between and the music faces me. I *will* go deaf. That's one of those things. It's worth the sacrifice of the occasional 'eh?' to people.

So, last year I queued. For about three hours. To get a copy of Bowie's 'Welcome To The Blackout' album. Triple vinyl. For about thirty-five quid. Sublime. Played it to death. Loved it like I loved a new album when I was 17. Loved it like I very rarely love new music online. Online music is hard to hold and easy to forget.

I looked at this year's list and thought, "no, no, no, no, got, arsed, hold on, a Dexys' Live album, from 1982? Yes please."

But I wasn't going to spend hours in a line on the off chance of getting a copy without knowing the track listing. So I searched. And the RSD website was giving nothing away other than the fact that it was a concert recorded for the BBC. The Dexys site? Doesn't even acknowledge its existence, hasn't been updated for three years. Very Dexys that.

And I found that there had been a CD release in 1993. Which begs the question 'why don't I own this?' It's not like I wasn't already obsessed, not like I had lost my love for them, not like I wasn't working in a record shop. But I recognised the cover.

More searching. Mere seconds of searching. It's on Apple Music isn't it? It's already there. Why spend twenty eight quid on an album I already have at my fingertips?

It was J who put forward the argument that 'that's not the point, the point is having it on vinyl'. But I don't need it on vinyl, do I?

Of course I do. It's phenomenal. It's the transition point. It's Dexys with the horns AND the fiddles at the same time. It's Dexys playing a version of Bring It Down that sounds nothing like the original but is equally glorious. It's Dexys playing Come On Eileen to an audience that has never heard Come On Eileen in its life.

That's a moment, that. This song that may be one of the most overplayed songs in the history of music, this song that people think of now only as a wedding staple to the point that they've forgotten the sheer genius of its structure, forgotten how bloody odd a single that was at the time, being heard completely fresh. And the audience is blown away.

It's incredible and vital. And I'm setting the alarm for Saturday morning to go and queue in the cold for far too long, to buy something that I already have, because I'll love it all the more for that.

And that's the point. The love is the point.