About 15 years ago I stumbled aimlessly into a record shop in Kings Cross, Sydney. A tiny space filled to the brim with dusty vinyl classics, such as Dylan’s Blonde on Blonde and Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours. Having already hijacked my dad’s collection, I had most of these legendary recordings already safely stored. What I was searching for that day was a real gem, a hidden classic. Something that would be my little secret.
I got chatting with the guy behind the counter, he asked me if I’d heard of a folk singer from America called Rodriguez, I replied that I hadn’t. He then went on to explain how it was a staple in his collection, how he was the Mexican Dylan and that he’d never garnered the respect, nor success, that he truly deserved. I was immediately intrigued and, no sooner than five minutes later, I was leaving the record store holding my very first copy of Cold Fact. Rodriguez’s first album.
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