Friend For Life

Keep Austin weird, they said: neon signs, music for days, Texan hospitality, and a friend you can always count on

There were plenty of reasons to visit Austin.

Music is so intrinsically and organically embedded into the fabric of the city that you can’t really tell where one begins and the other ends.

From the colourful neon signs on live music venues and record shops all across the city, to bands on tour loading their instruments onto the plane, to the guy strumming his guitar with studio-precision style at the departure gate, this place lives and breathes music like no other.

Ever head of the phrase “there’s something in the air?” Well, multiply that by 512737.

Janis Joplin and Leon Bridges, two Texans and two of my favourite artists

Musically speaking, the stakes were pretty high, and the city did not disappoint.

Our hotel proudly hosted a vinyl ambassador from whom you could request, prior to your arrival, records to rent during your stay.

Just fill in a form with your preferences and they’ll do the rest.

I was coming off a stressful week at work, so I submitted my form at the very last minute. In a rush, already en route to the airport, without much time to elaborate.

Er… Mariah, Sam Cooke, B.B. King, Aretha. Soul, blues, R&B. That sort of thing. Do what you can, yeah? Many thanks.

Not only did they have a bag of records ready for me upon arrival, but their recommendations based on my preferences truly felt like someone had read my palms, my aura, my chakras and the leaves of my tea all at once — like someone had uncovered the deepest corners of my soul.

Alright, so: the tables were Crosleys and some of the records needed a bit of a clean, but their catalogue is fantastic, and their recommendations are spot on

My husband, Stephan, had stayed at this hotel whilst on business, and he was adamant I needed to see it for myself.

Well, suffice it to say I married well. He’s my soulmate and my rock, and knows me better than I will ever know myself.

Even the background music in the lobby and at the gym had me constantly reaching for Shazam hoping I could take a piece of all those lush sounds back home.

The food would deserve a separate chapter altogether. I’m one of those insufferable fitness bros ordering salads and skipping dessert just so they can drink more alcohol, but even a gym-obsessed, calorie-tracking freak like me managed to make a bit of room for yet another taste of greatness.

If the music stakes were high, the steaks on our plates were huge — and so damn good.

While it’s true that Texan portion sizes can feed an entire nation, it’s fair to say the city passed its food tastiness test with flying colours.

Stephan and I thoroughly enjoyed our time together, indulged in delicious meals and, above all, were blessed with some of the best hospitality we’ve ever experienced.

But beyond all the great music, romantic dinners and one of the coolest atmospheres in America, there was another, much more important reason why an Austin visit was way overdue.

The city is fortunate enough to count

Brad Kyle

as one of its residents.

Brad is a rock history legend whose music industry knowledge is so rich that you want to take notes even before he opens his mouth. He writes the brilliant

Front Row & Backstage

, is an eminent member of the MusicStack community and, on a personal note, he’s the undisputed godfather of my humble Vinyl Room.

Let me make one thing very clear: my publication would be nowhere near where it is today without Brad’s unwavering support and wise guidance.

And yes, guys, the legend is true: I had to pinch myself a couple of times when he would, nonchalantly, dig out extremely precise rock history data like one would make a passing comment about the weather.

It’s not just the data itself — it’s how he connects it all. The conclusions he draws from the information available. His agility of mind. How he puts it all together. You see what he does on paper? Well, it’s even more impressive in real life.

Brad could well be my father, but I felt like the senile one in the room.

I’d be lying, however, if I said the only reason I wanted to see Brad was to find out if the legend was true or to learn more about rock history.

If you listen to my voiceovers, or interact with me outside of the comments section, you will have noticed I’m a jokester through and through.

Hello my beautiful vinyl lovers! Always upwards and onwards. Always a healthy dose of sense of humour (and unlimited amounts of sass) because life tastes better with a little bit of sugar and spice in it.

But it doesn’t take a genius or a developmental psychologist to spot the wounded, troubled creaks of my mind. The subtext underneath all the humour. The dark, hidden corners when the party is over.

Brad saw those dark corners and, instead of running away (which is what any reasonable person would do when faced with a crazy Brit on the internet), he chose to shed the warmest and brightest light throughout.

He witnessed all my insecurities, battles, confidence issues, self-sabotage — all in full blossom, at the same time, proper hurricane style.

For once, there was someone with his wealth of knowledge and experience who, disinterestingly and unselfishly, genuinely believed in what I had to say, and was gracious enough to encourage it.

You know what the craziest thing is? He’s never taken any credit for it. At all.

I don’t need to tell you at this point that beyond all his accolades, Brad is a friend for life.

He’s among the very few people in my contacts I don’t need to sugarcoat things with. Among the very few who doesn’t think any less of me if I message him asking for advice while I’m not entirely sober.

Brad will always have my back, and I will always have his.

I’m forever indebted to him for his wisdom, courage, guidance, his kindness and generosity.

If you enjoy The Vinyl Room every Sunday, you should be grateful to him too.

So let’s all raise a glass, my beautiful vinyl lovers, and celebrate one of the kindest, wisest, most generous and most talented human beings I’ve been fortunate enough to cross paths with.

This one’s for you, my Texan friend. Thank you for believing. Thank you for keeping the magic alive.

And thank you all for reading/listening. Happy spinning!