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Rob's records

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  • Rob's records

    This is fantastic! For those of you who've yet to have the pleasure, click on the link for a virtual tour...

    Mark my words, when Sheffield finally takes back Robin Hood, we'll still have this place...
    a giant steam-powered turntable in warwickshire plays six foot cement recordings of Prince Albert's speeches to the rejoicing populace

  • #2
    I remember going to Robs and wondering if I needed a tetanus booster while I was there!

    It was utterly utterly rank. I would love to sort it out for him! There's probably twenty moody's in there. <- Changed URL


    • #3

      Many have offered to sort it out for him, or help him to sort it out, or just offered advice as to how he might utilise the space a bit better. But, as the article says, he&#39;s past the point of no return now. He&#39;s too tight-fisted to risk closing for a couple of weeks to sort it, he wouldn&#39;t pay for a skip and he certainly wouldn&#39;t throw out all those empty cardboard boxes, empty sleeves, snapped/warped/scratched/filthy records/CDs.

      It truly is Mr Trebus style in there now. On Thursday, it stank of cat piss, I&#39;m assuming he&#39;s acquired a cat to control the inevitable rat infestation.

      When I was in there a couple of weeks ago, Bones was in too (he of Big Daddy magazine) and was filming Rob and the shop as some sort of potential &#39;Rough Guide to Nottingham&#39; which is going to be touted round to TV channels as a pilot for a potential series. Wonder if Rob&#39;s telegenic? Also wondering if they&#39;ll show any of the usual Friday night brawls around the Market Square in the interests of balanced reportage?&#33; Verily, tis a violent city.

      But, we&#39;ve all often wondered how many utter gems Rob has just buried with piles of shite. Of course there&#39;ll be Moodys in there, and countless libraries, Hanged Man, Soft Rock, Ray Davies, Harry Roche etc etc. He should just rent an empty property for a month (there&#39;s plenty of &#39;em), use it for storage and pay a couple of regulars to just move 50% of his stuff over there, sort it into what&#39;s sellable and what&#39;s shite and then use the breathing space to organise his shop a little.

      But he won&#39;t listen. Ever.  

      It&#39;s torture looking at the piles and wishing he&#39;d just let you rummage through, but it&#39;s also quite endearing that a lot of the goodies will stay buried til he retires and even then, he&#39;ll probably just leave them all there to rot&#33;

      Who&#39;s up for breaking and entering? Or is that a job for:



      Jet Boy stole my baby.