SPIN Doctor has been wrestling for much of the past week with Kate Bush. Forgive this salacious introduction, but I’m not talking about what it implies, or indeed about the merits or otherwise of Ms Bush’s latest release, the revisiting and revising of some of her earlier work on the album Director’s Cut. No, I’m using Kate as an example, to illustrate a mind-numbing, soul-destroying and ethically disturbing development that I feel should be shared and dealt with by the nation at large, namely: what do you do with albums in your collection that you know for a fact you will never listen to again? SD reached this crossroads in life during a routine re-alphabetising exercise in the vinylCD cupboard. This normally straightforward, if time-consuming, process is a regular necessity at SD HQ, given the high volume of music that lands on the doorstep. It’s true that the digital age renders it possible to carry one’s music library in one’s pocket, but for the moment at least hard copy is still a prized commodity. It’s not a chore, as such, this alphabetising. It’s often an opportunity to reacquaint oneself with a long-forgotten piece of work that has been tucked away between the Ps and the Ts, waiting for its neglectful owner to give it a bit of attention. Without getting totally High Fidelity about it, there is great joy to be had by pulling that long-lost gem from the racks and establishing in the space of 40 minutes or so that it is as vital to you as it was when you bought it (disclosure: or got it for nothing in the post). Director’s Cut and a satchel of other new releases prompted the latest updating of the SD catalogue and it was while slipping the Bush CD into its rightful spot that a horror, one that must have been lurking for years, manifested itself. Will there ever be any just cause, I thought, to once more listen to Kate’s The Dreaming? It took no more than a few seconds to come up with the answer. No. Once that criteria had been set, there was no going back. Worse still, if I had absolutely no intention of listening to The Dreaming or The Strokes’ Room on Fire or Jet’s Shine On or Muse’s first album or anything at all by Steely Dan or Kylie Minogue, what was the point in having them? Could I, would I, DARE I . . . throw them out? It’s possible, but I’m not doing it alone. Taking inspiration from the recent Record Store Day that took place in many parts of the world, including Australia, Spin Doctor would like to announce the inaugural Australian Throw Out Albums You’ll Never Listen To Again Day. Next Saturday seems as good a day as any. Speaking as an ageold hoarder, the purging prospect, after the initial trepidation, is liberating. Make it a family affair. Just pile the albums into the boot, take a picnic and drive down to the nearest refuse centre. Imagine the delight on the kids’ faces as they toss those unwanted Lou Reeds, Human Natures, Spice Girls and Rolling Stones (post Tattoo You) into the skip of eternal damnation. Enjoy.