From the memoirs of
Lifemask:
Originally, I heard AHM on the radio late one night (one thing great about 1970s radio programming). I taped the broadcast with a little cassette recorder/microphone and later rang Double Jay (legendary Sydney radio station 2JJ on the AM band - now Triple J FM, and not so legendary). Some staff huddled around the telephone and upon a pretty decent listen told me that it was the Pink Floyd. Excellent.
By coincidence later that week, my enthusiasm for this 'new' piece of music did the rounds at school. A fellow there said that he had a copy of AHM and was prepared to part with it for a couple of dollars (fool!). Most excellent ... now I can play this new piece in stereo on my recently acquired Phillips micro stereo (seven kidney-rattling watts per side). Hunky dory. I pick up the vinyl at school, spend a further seven hours holding on to it until I can get it home for a play. That afternoon I arrive home - pee - then get to work. I pull the disc out of the sleeve, put it on the (plastic) platter and crank it up in the privacy of my room as I roll a ciggy. As the piece gets through a few toots of brass during AHM's introduction, I reach across to get an ashtray ... at the same time bringing a lamp crashing down upon my now unhappily spinning copy of Atom Heart Mother.
Bliss. I have a similar story concerning a copy of Tim Buckley's 'Greetings From LA', but that's another story. The up-side is that both incidents propelled me into a lifetime of anally rententive record care.
Chronic bed-wetting is a small price to pay for hi-fidelity.