SATURDAY is Record Store Day, where independent music stores in the UK come together and celebrate their existence.

Independent shops used to be commonplace on the high street, but the rise of the internet and the unwielding power of the bigger chains killed all but a few off.

The ones that remain, however, are little diamonds in the rough.

My local store is Sound it Out in Stockton, the subject of an excellent documentary on the importance of independent record stores.

Watching that, by chance on a Friday night two years ago, made me long for a record player. I used to have a turntable as a youngster, nicking my mam’s Beatles collection and listening through Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours so I could hear “the bit off the Grand Prix theme tune”.

I got my wish, and for Christmas I received a portable turntable, and I have been building my collection since then.

The beauty of vinyl is that albums are not a collection of downloadable, consumable three minute hits to be enjoyed in isolation, they are bodies of work. Every song has been placed in a particular order for a particular moment. The end of Mr Blue Sky carries the words “please turn me over” at the end, because it’s at the end of side one of the second record (double album, gatefold sleeve, £4 in Sound it Out).

The artwork is bigger, the lyrics printed in the inlay cover make them pieces of art, and the sound quality, with the pops and crackles, feels warmer than heavily compressed MP3 files.

Vinyl sales have risen more than 60% in the last 12 months, making the UK the third biggest market in the world for the format behind the USA and Germany.

There is a place for MP3s, but the sound of a needle on black plastic is still hard to resist.

The Northern Echo: Star Wars

AS A kid, I didn’t get Star Wars.

The original trilogy came too early for me – I was too young to enjoy it and was never tempted thereafter – but was perfect for my brother.

So, being the younger one, I got all of his old toys, including half of a Darth Vader and the arm of a Stormtrooper. That was my involvement in the original wave of popularity.

Now, you can’t get moved for it. Since Disney got its filthy paws all over the franchise – they bought Star Wars makers LucasFilm out in 2012 – their marketing machine has gone into overdrive ahead of the reboot of the films, which starts with The Force Awakens opening just before Christmas.

Having been weaned on to the original franchise by my sci-fi loving wife, I’m as excited as anyone.

I put the Star Wars trilogy on my phone while driving back from Cardiff last year. John Williams’ score and the laser-laced sound effects meant that I had little to no chance of falling asleep at the wheel on such a long drive home.

As well as Star Wars delivering a thrill to the senses, the films were backed up by a strong storyline that straddles generations.

The latest film, from JJ Abrams, who also directed the latest Star Trek films – confusing for those who can’t tell the science-fiction giants apart – is possibly the most anticipated one yet, with the return of Han Solo and Luke Skywalker et al.

Its release has been preceded by two brief teaser trailers, the second of which was released this week which gave us our first glimpse of Han and Chewbacca.

I haven’t had 90 seconds of action like that since I was a teenager.