Imagine
a crowded record shop. Difficult, maybe, in the age of iTunes, but
perhaps you have gone to the big city, where enough customers can be
snared by nostalgia and the urge to collect and curate. Wallet in
hand and with quivering ears, you slowly wander the aisles. Depending
on the sadism of the shop owner, you might have to flick through
boxes, get on your knees to dig for treasure, or walk with your body
bent at 90 degrees for best browsing potential. Let's say you bypass
Rock & Pop, spend some time in Folk, pick a Jazz/Classical wild
card, and maybe even nip into Funk & Soul, Urban or Metal. You
get a bit absorbed in the blurb on the wad of sound already gathered,
and when you look up you find yourself in a part of the store you
have never seen before. Peering at the racks, you see no names you
recognise. Some are even in foreign languages. It dawns on you a
second before you see the sign: you have found the World section.
