Juicy Drops

Eight records, three of them debut albums. One was recorded straight to two-inch tape with no computer in the chain, another remastered from the original analogue tapes and cut all-analogue. A third runs across four sides at 45 RPM.

Eleven records. Two of them came out on the same day last month. One is forty years old and has been cut again at half speed.

Sixteen new records on the site tonight. One sold more in a day than the rest of the top twenty combined, one hit number one in twenty countries in a single week, and one was made in seven days. 

Ten new records on the site tonight. One is fourteen days old, one is thirty-four years, and the oldest was made in a garage.

Ten records. One sleeve was drawn by a machine the artist built himself. One album was recorded through a single microphone into a laptop, in a shed in Tasmania. Two of them came out nine weeks apart in 1988.

Ten records. One is the first album entirely in Spanish to win Album of the Year, and it was nominated for record and song in the same year. One came on neon orange. One is a single copy.

Nine records, most of them made outside a proper studio. One in a rented mansion the drummer refused to sleep in. One in a condemned warehouse with the demolishers waiting outside. One in a kitchen, with the birdsong left in.

Nine records. One was finished, scrapped, and made again across five studios, sixty thousand dollars gone. One was abandoned in Los Angeles and rebuilt in a rented house in East London. One has twelve instruments on it, all played by the same person.

Ten records. One was built entirely out of other records, sixty of them, no band, no instruments. One cost a hundred and thirty-eight pounds and was recorded in a garden shed.

Seven records. One was made by a man who released eight albums and then refused to discuss any of them again. His label spent three years getting the reissue signed, and five hours in the room getting the signature.

Six records. One singer secretly re-recorded his own drummer. Two tracks of the original playing survived, and the drummer walked. Another session was interrupted by a cricket bat.

Seven records. One cost six hundred and six dollars to make, a friend paid the bill, took a credit on the sleeve, and didn't play a note. Another was recorded in two weeks, roughly a song a day.

Ten records. One was released after its singer had already died. One was made by two people posting tapes to each other. One came out of a band that had been together three months.