I feel like I have to say something here about Anne Winter’s passing last Thursday. I plan on discussing the matter further in this week’s podcast, with a couple quite hilarious anecdotes, but I thought I’d say something before her funeral tomorrow.
Anne and her husband ran Recycled Sounds at the intersection of Westport Road and Main Street for 18 years. It, along with The Music Exchange, was my second home in college, especially when my family life got rough. This was the store where I discovered everything from classics like The Pixies and Echo and the Bunnymen to newer stuff like Trans Am, Jetenderpaul and Blackalicious. Whenever I wandered through the store, as if I didn’t know what to get, she’d always hand me a CD and demand, “You need to listen to this.”
Apart from her monumental influence in my musical discoveries and her encouragement of the creation of my own music, Anne was my wife’s boss for the last year and a half at the International Association of Assessing Officers (IAAO).