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Saturday, February 11, 2012

There’s no pop like fairground pop

Back in the sixties one of the few places you could hear pop records played properly loud was at the fairground.

As the ride began the sideburned blokes who took the money on the waltzer or the dodgems would drop a blunt stylus on a scratched 45 of the latest hit.

Because not many cars had radios in those days the magical combination of music and movement was a rare thrill. It was particularly thrilling when it was getting dark, the smell of candy floss and beer hung in the air and the slightly slutty girls leaned back on the rails chewing along to the sound of The Ronettes singing “Be My Baby”.