Archive: signalling

The other day I took my first trip to Fopp since it re-opened. After Fopp’s flopp, HMV bought the name and six of the stores (a far cry from the 120-or-so stores there used to be). HMV probably bought it to stop Gordon Montgomery from making an easy comeback, but they have promised to run the remaining Fopp stores as Fopp themselves ran them.

Immediately people were wondering if HMV had bought the right stores. I guess they are in a much better position to know which stores are profitable and which are not. But they bought the Rose Street store in Edinburgh. It’s a good shop, but there are already two HMVs within a stone’s throw. The one on Cockburn Street was smaller but only has that dusty Avalanche for competition. And it was closer to the university, which, for purely self-interested reasons, made it automatically better for me.

Also, a lot of the point about Fopp was the fact that it wasn’t HMV. Nor was it some indie-wank shop. It was something in between, which I thought was just perfect.

During my trip there, I was pleased to see that almost nothing has changed in the Rose Street store. There are only very slight cosmetic differences that only the most anal people (like me) will notice. Price stickers are now HMV-style, as are the receipts. But apart from that, most things have pleasantly remained the same.

The prices are still in nice round numbers. There is none of that £X.99 nonsense. It feels good just to hand over a twenty and be done with the transaction with no fuss.

I did try to do my usual thing of looking for a cheap Can album, but although they had loads of Can albums, they were all £15! The same was true for Brian Eno. I guess it’s not inconceivable that this would have happened in the old Fopp, but it did ring a minor alarm bell. Hopefully it is just my imagination. Thankfully, in general, the prices are still pretty good. I bought four albums for £20 (including one Stereolab CD which was just £3! Bargain!), which is pretty good going.

There was something quite striking about my visit to Fopp though. I was browsing there in full knowledge that the shop was almost wiped off the face of the earth, so I was thinking about the business side of things as I was shopping. The thing I noticed above everything else was that almost every single other customer there was a middle-aged man. I was probably the youngest person in the shop. It’s true — kids just don’t buy music these days.

On my way down to Rose Street, I passed the folk specialist Coda store on Bank Street. I wondered to myself, “I wonder how long before that goes?” In fact, I have often wondered that to myself over the years (before today’s music retail woes), but that probably shows my narrow-mindedness about folk music. Today, I suppose most of its customers will be the more loyal middle-aged men. That was probably a curse just a few years ago. It’s surely a blessing now!

I am a big fan of the CD format, and I love to have a physical copy of any music that I have. Then it feels like I really own it, and is a signal that I really value the music rather than just downloading any old crappy MP3 and throwing it in the recycle bin if I don’t like it.

It’s a bit like a story I read about in a very exciting book called A Logic of Expressive Choice by Alexander A. Schuessler. It’s a bit dry, but it has some neat examples to demonstrate its points.

(I don’t have the book to hand, so my memory of this example is quite sketchy, but you will get the general idea.) One of them involved a man who, every year, would camp outside to buy tickets to something or other. He waited an extraordinarily long time to ensure that he was at the front of the queue so that he could get the best tickets.

One year the venue decided to just give him the best tickets anyway, as a kind of token of appreciation (or probably as a publicity stunt). The man was outraged and refused to accept the tickets. For him, his value came from the waiting, not from acquiring the tickets themselves. He took pride in waiting for ages. It was his way of saying to the world, “Look how much I love this thing! I will wait for ages to make sure I see it!” When the theatre offered him the tickets, he was robbed of his chance to express himself in this way.

I think I am the same with music. Sure, I could illegally download every song in existence for free. I could even download them legally and pay for them. But I wouldn’t have anything to show for it. I like to look at my music collection and think to myself, “blimey, I’ve got quite a lot of CDs now”. Even though this means that I am losing space in my room.

I think most people growing up these days won’t value music like this. They have access to far more music than they can possibly consume, and they just do it. They just download disposable albums without thinking about it and don’t give the music their full attention. (I can see myself as an old man with my pipe and slippers, fondly remembering the days of CDs, when youths respected music.)

But a lot of people are saying that CDs are doomed. Vinyl will still have its niche, but CDs won’t be around any longer. Imagine that! I could end up having the opposite dilemma to the previous generation — I will have to convert my entire CD collection into vinyl!

As much as I dislike this situation, it has to be said that there is not much going for music retailers these days. They are dropping like flies. And when they are not dropping like flies, they are hurriedly rearranging their deckchairs in preparation for the sinking.

HMV has launched its “next generation” stores. “Download hubs”, “gaming stations” and smoothie bars. Just don’t mention music.

Richard Branson has just sold his Virgin music stores. This is incredible because it is the first time in three decades that Richard Branson hasn’t had his fingers in the music retail pie. It was music retail where he started, so for Virgin to be pulling out of it altogether, you know that things are just not going well at all in the music retail world.

It seemed to be going so well too. In 2006, Scotland’s rail service was pretty good from my perspective. The route I take — Fife to Edinburgh — is meant to be one of the worst in the country, but I think it is fine.

Granted, I no longer have to go at peak time like I used to. But even so, I thought the service was pretty good. During the day there are usually two or three trains per hour to Edinburgh, which is pretty good going really. Delays seem to be less frequent and carriages seem to be less crowded.

This article from The Guardian also put things into perspective by comparing a Kirkcaldy–Edinburgh journey to other gruelling commutes.

If you are strap-hanging on train lines in England and value the remains of your sanity, look away now. It will do you no good to read about the record 88% satisfaction rates that Scottish rail commuters report, nor the £1.9bn, seven-year programme to introduce extra carriages, longer platforms and new rail lines across Scotland, or that train operators rarely breach their promise that no one should stand for more than 10 minutes. Even a recent BBC Radio Scotland phone-in on commuting struggled to find hair-raising stories. In fact, several callers bandied words such as “excellent” and “very comfortable”.

It’s true really. Things on Scottish trains have been quite good. And the current work going on at Edinburgh Waverley station serves as a constant reminder of the improvements that are being made. I was also becoming sympathetic towards First ScotRail for always being blamed even for things outwith their control.

But it seems as though ever since that article was published it’s been all downhill for Scotland’s rail passengers. The brand new trains that First ScotRail have been buying over the past couple of years are now developing more faults.

I’ve heard some slightly concerning noises, which is nothing much to report in itself. But a couple of weeks ago I was on a train that was late because of “poor engine performance”. The week before that I experienced a bit of a rarity — a train completely failing and being cancelled.

Now, after that period where we were getting loads of new trains, I’ve noticed some increasingly colourful liveries around the place. So we are now getting lots of other train companies’ second hand trains.

Apparently First ScotRail had lots of trouble with peak time Fife Circle services earlier this year. Major signalling failures, particularly at Haymarket, occur far too frequently.

More than one recent derailment at Waverley Station is also a slightly worrying record. And the fact that a heavy freight train found itself heading towards a passenger train is downright scary.

(There have also been some moans on other blogs, here and here.)

Sure, not all of these incidents are the fault of First ScotRail. A lot of the blame seems to rest on Network Rail. There are a few unacceptable problems creeping in for whatever reason, particularly at Edinburgh.

Now there is the strike that is currently taking place. Of course, neither First ScotRail nor Network Rail seem to be particularly to blame for this. That accolade goes to Bob Crow, who appears to have unilaterally ripped up an agreement which was almost reached on Monday. He comes across as power crazy. Mr Crow really must have a massive boner thinking about all the disruption he has caused to the “ordinary working man” today.

I feel the need to defend trains as a form of transport. As I woke up this morning I was listening to the morning phone in on Radio Scotland. It might have been my not-yet-properly-awake early morning head fuzz, but I am sure I heard some woman saying that she had booked a train for the first time in years today, and she will never be taking the train again after today’s strike.

That is a bit of a silly attitude if you ask me. So signal men go on strike on the one day she happens to have booked a train. It is a piece of bad luck, but it is hardly as though railways are particularly susceptible to strike action. I mean, what the hell is she going to do the next time bus drivers strike or something? And then air traffic controllers? With a stubborn attitude like that, she’ll be marooned in whatever wee dump she lives in for the rest of her life.

I have to say, even this bare-bones train service is pretty good. The train I normally take on a Wednesday morning is usually packed out, but today it was almost deserted (this was before the strike began at noon). I got a normal train back in the middle of the afternoon, and it was as if nothing had happened! (Mind you, I dread to think what the last train was like.)

Tomorrow we will still be getting a train an hour (or maybe two; I’m not sure if I’ve read information correctly) between Fife and Edinburgh. It is a step down from what we are normally used to, for sure. But if demand remains as depressed as it was today, it will be no big problem.

What is a real bummer is the fact that I am planning to go to Dundee tomorrow for a friend’s 21st, and there are no trains going any further than Markinch. This is the first time I will have done anything vaguely fun since new year. I am already making a few sacrifices for it (although I am determined to go, for the sake of my sanity — I’ll burn out otherwise).

It is very annoying for this to coincide with the strike. I will have to take the bus. I absolutely hate buses. They are uncomfortable, full of neds and they always take bloody ages. They are subject to road congestion. They are far less safe than trains. And they are expensive. And I always bash my head on the ceiling when I sit down!

Apparently there are no direct buses from Kirkcaldy to Dundee. You have to get a bus to Glenrothes first. And it takes about two hours. I don’t really have enough time tomorrow as it is. What a pain! Imagine if the trains were always off.