By Jock — Crimson Vinyl There are two kinds of vinyl collectors in this world: Those who swear by OG pressings like they’re sacred relics forged in the fires of Mount Doom… And those who love a good reissue because it’s clean, affordable, and doesn’t sound like someone sandpapered it during the mastering process. Me? I’m somewhere in the middle — a proud fence‑sitter with a metal collection that’s half pristine reissues and half OGs that look like they’ve survived a bar fight

By a 17‑year‑old kid from Launceston with a fresh set of P‑plates, a bass guitar he barely knew how to play, and a glovebox full of cassettes! 1987 wasn’t just another year — it was a cultural explosion. It was the year I got my P‑plates, rolled down the windows of my first car, and blasted whatever cassette I’d taken a chance on from the “New Release” rack at the local record store. No Spotify. No Apple Music. No algorithm. You discovered bands by flipping through shelves, s

The 2000s were a weird time for metal. The 90s had blown the hair‑metal scene to pieces, grunge had rewritten the rules, and the genre was left standing in the rubble trying to figure out what came next. But metal is nothing if not resilient. The 2000s became a decade of rebuilding credibility — a decade where new giants emerged, old legends proved they still had fire in their veins, and fans like me rediscovered what made heavy music feel like home. These are my personal Top

If you grew up in the 80s, you remember the moral panic. If you didn’t, it might sound like satire: US Senators interrogating rock stars, parents’ groups waving vinyl sleeves like courtroom evidence, and a small black‑and‑white rectangle — Parental Advisory — that could change the fate of an album. For me, a teenager in Launceston, that sticker wasn’t a warning. It was a lighthouse. It told me exactly which albums I wanted to hear. But to understand why that sticker mattered,