Vinyl of my Youth

More albums from over the years, including some pretty risque ones of lovely ladies that had my senses inflamed in their day.

Note the excellent upbringing I had: Lehrer, Ives, cocktail piano, calypso, Hank Williams, songs of torrid Spain ...
Yes, those piano medleys and Valentino dances and singalongs to torrid cantos were my roots.

The 45rpm of Rosemary Clooney is missing or I could show you the first swelling cleavage I sweated over; likewise that lady swathed in cream on the Herb Alpert LP that I reckon we *all* listened to one-handed.

I wish I had the Lonnie Donegan albums - bless him - the skiffler that turned me onto steel strings and an even strum technique.