A TOAST TO TRADING POST

Everyone marks the passage of time in different ways. For many, one of the more popular, effective and poignant tracking of the chapters of our lives is done by remembering where we were when we first heard a piece of music and who recommended it to us, or indeed sold it to us so that we could ensure some form of personal ownership of these key musical moments in time that remain so enduringly significant throughout the ebb and flow of our lives. It might be that song that provided the soundtrack to our first kiss, our first heartbreak or our first dance. Or it might be that elusive tune we half remembered from a midsummer's night that captured the mood of our drunken intoxication so perfectly we desperately needed to return to it so we could study whatever that indeterminate feeling was and bottle it for posterity like an audio BFG.

Of course, in this modern digital age of the 21st century, it's a comfort to know that the 'ancient art' of the record seller has steadfastly continued to offer a welcome and authentic counterpoint to the more generic and impersonal consuming of music via streaming platforms such as iTunes, Spotify and Tidal.

One of the finest examples of record selling in recent decades is Simon Vincent of Trading Post who has offered an island of treasure to all who came seeking it in Stroud throughout the past twenty three years. Combining the wit of 'Open All Hours' Arkwright and Granville with the detection skills of a musical Columbo and the warmth of spirit akin to that of community minded landlord, Trading Post has been both a social and cultural hub where every man, woman, child and street cat have found a place to believe that whatever is sought, can be found.

Case in point, I visited Simon this past Saturday to pay my last respects to the shop he's made his own these past two decades and found to my astonishment a rare Keith Jarrett 3Lp set 'Concerts' (ECM) that was a holy grail of sorts to me. Back when I was a teenager I picked up the abridged CD version of the same set (also from Trading Post then in its original location of Nelson Street) which became the soundtrack for my first Paris trip, evoking an romantic existential vibe that I never forgot to this day. It now seems apt to have bought this complete set of the same concert(s), my last ever physical item from Simon, as its symbolic value to me is beyond measure. It is also a testament to that elusive serendipity one finds in Trading Post, that Aladdin's cave of a place.

The absence of such a shop in the centre of Stroud will leave a significant vinyl-shaped hole in the hearts of the local residents, but the memories, like the music, will remain and Simon, no doubt, will carry the legacy he's established with Trading Post everywhere he now sets foot which will be considerably further than the shop floor radius that he's practically worn out from locating records back and forth in those racks stuffed with gold.

Thank you Mr Trading Post!