Warning: This Story of a Lost Vinyl Collection Is the Most Heartwarming Thing We'll Ever Publish

This article originally appeared on Noisey UK.

I once went out for dinner with some friends and somehow lost the 18-carat gold chain my mom gave me for my 18th birthday, and we were both extremely upset. Except I didn’t lose it: I actually traded it at Cash Converters for £70 when I was a student in Dundee because my loan was up and I wanted to go out that night and have a footlong Italian BMT Subway the morning after. But I still replicated the feeling of losing something precious because that made it easier to lie to my mother, and that counts for something.

If that story broke your heart, here's one to mend it: It began when Aidan O’Rourke discovered a box of 250 immaculately preserved 45rpm vinyl singles (pictured above) sitting next to the recycling bin on his road in Edinburgh. These very precious lost possessions would end up giving him the type of story a local newspaper editor would dream of while they’re inattentively transcribing an interview with the local fry shop owner about their controversial decision to alter their fry width.

After seeing a very simplified version of Aidan’s magnificent tale on Twitter, I gave him a ring to get the full unfiltered version.

So, Aidan, let’s start at the start. Am I right in thinking this all began last July?
Yes, so one day, I got a note through the door. The note said: “Aidan, there’s a black carrying case containing 200 45s at the bottom of our steps for you. Please take. They were rescued from a bin. Tom”

Who’s Tom?
This was my retired neighbour who lives in the basement. He spotted them next to his recycling and knew I was a musician and that I’d enjoy them. I opened it up, and it was like a treasure trove! Immaculate singles from the late 50s and early 60s, mostly R&B and soul. I immediately thought this is some DJ or collector who has been robbed or something.

Does the street you live on get a lot of footfall then?
It’s a shortcut from the main Royal Mile in Edinburgh, if you’re heading down through the Cowgate. I’m in a little courtyard off the main drag, and people do cut through.

Ah, I see. So, anyway, you nabbed the box?
Well, I’m a musician, and I’ve had various musician friends over the years who have lost instruments, and I know how devastating it is, so I immediately put word out to people I know who are in that vinyl scene, like my tour manager and engineer. He got in touch with some collectors and DJs and gave them my number. I also went to some geeky record shops, like there is one guy at the farmers' market who sells rare vinyl. I left them all my number and told them to ring me if they hear anything.

Did you hear anything?
Absolutely nothing. My friends said give it six months, you’ve done what you can, after that it’s yours. And I got used to having them, to be honest. I would have little gatherings, and people would play the records, and it always made for a great night. It was an incredible collection. So beautifully ordered—not alphabetical though. The more me and my friends played them, we realized they were categorised by moods. Some real geek had done it. The atmospheres of each track suited the ones nearby in the case. We all kept over-analyzing them basically.

Did you become pretty attached to them?
Totally. Some of my mates started telling me to eBay a couple of them after six months, too, because a few of them were autographed, and others were first editions. I even took photos of a few, preparing to put them up. But I just couldn’t.

Maybe its because you’re a musician too?
I think so. I appreciated their value too much.

So, why are we talking about this again now, almost a year later?
Well, I was walking home down the hill last Friday night. I had just been to see The Unthanks, and I was carrying one of their vinyls under my arm. It was about 3:30 AM, so you can imagine it’s a bit blurry. I got talking to this guy who was walking on the same path. I can’t remember how we actually got talking, but he spotted the vinyl and asked what it was. We ended up chatting about music and vinyl, and he said he used to collect too and that he DJs.

Is this going where I think it’s going?
For some reason, he brought up this story. He said July last year, he was walking home late at night after DJing, and for whatever reason he put down his box of records and then walked off. He realized his disaster the next morning and retraced his steps to find they were gone. As he was telling me this I was just frozen thinking: “I have got this box!” So I said, “Andy, I’ve got them.”

I’m guessing he definitely thought you were taking the piss?
He was like, “Do not mess with me! It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” I said I wasn’t winding him up, explained how I got them and that they were in my living room. So he came up to my flat, and he was gobsmacked, started crying. He picked them up and was kissing them. Then he picked me up too! He said he’d given up on them and had been depressed for months. We had a beer, and he would turn his back, and I would name the artist, and he would tell me the A-side, B-side, and producer.

No fucking way. Have you heard from him since?
I got a text from him the next day. He hadn’t slept yet. He’d been up all night playing them. He offered me a reward, too, but I didn’t take it. The look on his face was worth it. It was his main collection, you know? He has thousands of records in his apartment, but these were his prime cuts.

What an amazing story.
It’s mad because I had never seen him on my road before in my life. If I hadn’t stayed out that night for one extra beer, if I hadn’t walked home carrying a vinyl, then it would never have happened, because we wouldn’t have got talking. Turns out he lives quite nearby.

I first saw this because you put it on Twitter. I see now it has over 2,000 likes and retweets.
It’s been a little bit crazy. I suppose it’s a really positive story, and people seem to be enjoying it. If it makes people think that the universe is a better place then that is all good.

Is he gonna DJ with them soon?
He’s playing this Saturday! And I’m going. I’m the guest of honor. He’s DJing at the The Taxi Club just off Broughton Road.

Make sure he takes his box home at the end, aye?

Aidan is a folk musician, and as thanks to him for telling me his amazing story, I feel like he deserves a shout out for his music. Check him out here: aidanorourke.net