I didn't have a record player.

I buy records - vinyl. I have a record player at home.

My mom probably has a record player. I might need to get one.

I didn't even have a record player as a kid, so everything was down to radio.

I thought my Beatles LPs sounded pretty good on a record player, but that was before I had heard a CD.

I have this old speaker set with amps and a record player from the 1970s. And I'm slowly collecting vinyl again.

I still love records, and I've been fortunate that my parents bought me a record player so I didn't just have my vinyls to stare at!

We leave TVs on in our house. I listen to my record player constantly to just hear music. I'm really intrigued by this idea of solitude.

I was two and a half and my folks would put it on the record player and I would run around the house screaming, but I haven't been that hip since.

When I wrote 'Marvin Gaye,' my whole intention was to make a record that people would put on a record player... and just instantly make out with each other.

I'm the youngest of five - three girls and two boys. There was one record player for the seven of us. It was good for me, because I got to hear everyone else's music.

We have a secret project at Third Man where we want to have the first vinyl record played in outer space. We want to launch a balloon that carries a vinyl record player.

When I was a tiny tot, we only had one record player in the house, so there was either Genesis on it or the Jungle Book or The Beatles as well, and various other things.

I would have to say that my very first encounter with the arts was when my mother bought me my first record player when I was six years old as well as a Karen Carpenter record.

I need to go someplace faraway that doesn't have telephones and doesn't have a record player and doesn't have movie theaters and people walking down the street in order to not do anything.

My house was full of music. My main memories are of the record player at home: it was all Beatles and Rolling Stones, and we danced around the living room; that started me off on instruments, and I've done nothing else ever since.

When I got into the Beatles, I must have only been about six or seven but old enough to take notice. We used to have an old radiogram which, for readers of a certain age, was like a big cabinet thing with a record player inside it.

I had daydreams and fantasies when I was growing up. I always wanted to live in a log cabin at the foot of a mountain. I would ride my horse to town and pick up provisions. Then return to the cabin, with a big open fire, a record player and peace.

I didn't own a record player when I was younger. I just played every day after school and then started gigging around town. I heard bands and songs through friends of mine, but a lot of what I picked up on was learned by traveling through college towns.

I tried to emulate my favourite guitar players, the old bluesmen like Blind Willie McTell and Big Bill Broonzy. I used to sit by the record player and copy Chuck Berry and the Beatles. You can never copy someone completely, so you end up developing your own style.

Growing up, I never knew that Raffi turned down celebrity endorsements, TV shows, and specials and refused to make merchandise, but it makes sense given how I think about him: My memories are limited to his voice through the record player and the album covers I stared at.

Comic books and radio were my escape. I even remember 3-D comic books where you put on the red-and-green glasses and Mighty Mouse would punch you in the face. It was the literature of the day for kids my age who were too bored with listening to 'Peter and the Wolf' on the record player.

My whole relationship with Bowie started when I was 13, and I bought a copy of 'Aladdin Sane' when I didn't have a record player. I had this record for a year before I could play it, and it was the image - not the sound - that I was attracted to. I just saw this image and thought he was my cousin.

One thing that did get me into a lot of different types of music was when I was very young, the local record store went out of business and they were selling off all the vinyl. I remember going in - I was probably 16 or 17 and I'd just gotten a record player as a present. It was like hitting the jackpot: all these records for $3 apiece.

No generation has escaped it - one morning, your skill with the eight-track or the record player or the cotton gin suddenly ceases to impress. It's just one of those inevitable disappointments that come with growing up, like the realization that Santa doesn't exist or the way that music always takes a turn for the worse after you turn 30.

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