8. Herb Alpert’s Tijuana BrassWhipped Cream & Other Delights
In the early ’90s I was poor. Piss poor. I couldn’t really afford new records. Luckily, a mile or two away from my house was an amazing emporium of junk shops. Today they would call this filthy, broken crap "vintage" and sell it at inflated prices. Then, back when people had a grasp of reality, it was deemed old shit nobody wanted. It was where piss poor people bought a three-piece suite for £15 and 20p dirty, broken toys were purchased for piss poor children. I loved it. It was on Wood Street in Walthamstow. They had thousands upon thousands of used records. Albums nobody wanted, albums salvaged from dead people’s houses. You could buy them for 10p or expensive ones at 50p. Nobody wanted vinyl then; it wasn’t in vogue or trendy. Some hipster fuck would probably pay £25 for the reissue of this if it was on 180 gram vinyl.
This album is ubiquitous to every junk shop and charity store. The cover is iconic, the typography is beautiful. Models in the ’60s and ’70s had a really hard time when it came to food and nudity. There are countless covers of women covered in honey and all kinds of shit. Poor girls, but it made for interesting album covers. As well as a great cover, I genuinely really love the music on this album. It’s a beautifully crafted recording that brings back memories of a time of feckless freedom.
