. . . that I hopped on my bike and rode into Randolph Square to the Kresge's, where I plunked down a whopping $2.99 for Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band. Drove back home one-handed (the other hand holding the shopping bag with the record in it) and (because my parents didn't want to hear it in the house) set up the record player in the garage and proceeded to listen to it three times straight through. And get this--because they had the lyrics printed in the middle? You could actually follow along with the words! You think videos changed the face of music? Sorry. It was nothing compared to actually having the lyrics right there in front of you. By the middle of the next week? Everyone in my high school class had the entire album memorized. (Except for the George Harrison song, which we always skipped over.) And thanks to the cover, everyone suddenly knew who Aleister Crowley was. (I think he's second from the left in the back.) And we had less than a year to wait for covers like this:
Although we had to wait ten years for this:
