There was a man on the radio recently (perhaps in the context of what follows, I should call it the wireless) twittering on excitedly about the fact that something which was once laughed out of our lives as being a dinosaur is staging a revival.

The return of vinyl. Yes, incredible as it seems, the days when you went down town and into a record shop to purchase a round grooved piece of black plastic with a hole in the middle are back.

Just as we have all rid ourselves of our LPs (long players to those who don't know or have forgotten) and single 45s (the revolutions per minute, not a sad soul looking for love in a dating agency), people are out there making new versions. Crisper and cleaner, of course, but good on them, I say. Because, come on, we all fell for the sales pitch about CDs. Remember that line about them being virtually indestructible? Try scuffing your shoes on one and see if it plays. The truth is that digital does not sound the same when trying to reproduce songs recorded in the days when vinyl was king. And, let's face it, those pathetic little plastic packages with sleeve notes so small you need a magnifying glass don't compare to the majestic artwork that was once wrapped around an LP.

If I rummaged around in the depths of some abandoned cupboard at home I could probably unearth what still remains of my own vinyl record collection, amassed when my hair was a different colour and quantity.

I know, because I actually did this a few years back, the contents of their storage container (a supermarket plastic carrier bag) produced a scant harvest. Some less than well cared for 45s, mainly of Sixties soul acts (my all-time favourites). Though I was heartened to see among them a real classic, the wonderful (and rarely played) Shotgun Wedding by Roy C. I actually saw this chap perform his song at a wonderful club in Cheltenham and, to everyone's astonishment, at the point where shotgun effects were required he pulled out a pistol, pointed it at the ceiling and fired. Unforgettable. But that's about it so far as my recording nostalgia goes on good old vinyl.

My wife, however, can wallow in the stuff she bought way back when. She has albums dating back to her early teens, from Buddy Holly, Orbison and the Everly Brothers. Best of all, so far as she's concerned, is the first ever album featuring Bob Dylan at Newport Folk festival, a bloke whom my wife has had a longer, more enduring adoration of than me. We should really get them out and play them again. Anyone out there got a record player?