The John Griff Column: When retail therapy is precisely that

But we’re not there yet. Jobs to do, I was feeling grumpy, thanks to a headache.

Earlier this year I sold my house. In moving out I gave my collection of CDs to a neighbour, reasoning that in the future I would be able to simply download the music I wanted to hear through my online account.

Big mistake.

Years ago, I dabbled with music for friends and their parties. Never professing to be a ‘DJ’, I’ve always made the distinction of being a ‘Presenter’ and left the stuff of turntables, loops, scratches and crossfaders to those with the ability and skills to wow an audience. This summer, a couple of neighbours with adjacent birthdays had asked if I could put together the music for a party they were planning to have in the local pub. I agreed – and then decided that I would challenge myself to do something new - I would go live.

Throughout my career I’ve always tried to use my own equipment for work. My thinking was that if I could work independently of any particular radio station, I could produce work for any radio station and it’s a policy which proved its worth throughout the pandemic. With a change in my professional circumstances though and with a view towards largely self-entertainment, I recently bought a twin turntable mixer to see if I develop new skills. I then also bought some stage lights and a smoke machine. I managed to pull together sufficient music so that my neighbours got their party in the pub. Then, I began to get requests to ‘deejay’ elsewhere.

Which is where a lack of CDs suddenly became a problem.

Without going into too much technical detail, it all depends on the equipment you’re using and the format of the music you want to play as to whether you can get any further than the on/off switch. The format of the downloaded music files I wanted to use wouldn’t play through the mixer. So I had to head for a local record store (mercifully, they still exist) and rummage around in the ‘Compilations’ bins to try and find the material I needed.

Once in the record store I went on both a hunt and a spree. At the till I waited in line, observing other shoppers. The guy behind the till looked at me incredulously as I piled up 40 CDs containing just over 850 tracks and reached for my bank card. ‘Are you sure you’ve got enough of those?’ he said with a wry smile on his face. ‘I’m restocking,’ I replied. Moments later and my bank account balance diminished by just under £75, I headed out.

It was at that point that I had a kind of epiphany. Back to the days of linear, traditional shopping, looking for something instead of just clicking and waiting for the van to arrive. I liked it too. Instead of heading for the car, my bag of CDs and I explored the rest of the shopping centre, pausing to mooch or chat with anyone who approached us in the stores. I suddenly became aware of a myriad of benefits taking hold. My heartbeat had gone up from the exercise of taking a walk (albeit indoors) rather than sitting with a tablet in my lap. My headache cleared up as my brain took on some exercise too – where were the best deals? And could I buy the shower gel I wanted (lots of scent, plenty of foam)? Finally, there was the simple pleasure of interacting with real people instead of an algorithm. The restorative effects of a simple smile and a brief, but cheerful conversation with someone you’ve never met before were great. You don’t get them with a laptop.

I don’t know how my foray into ‘deejaying’ is going to go (I am available for parties and events), but I do know that I’m going to make time to take in more real-world shopping - and retail therapy. Northampton’s revamped Market Square is open, Abington Street’s block paving work will end sometime, and the town could be heading for renaissance if the plans for it succeed. It’ll need proper shops too. AI might offer me buying suggestions – but I’ll do the buying. I’ll be getting more than just my purchases into the bargain too.