Love stories you can drop a needle on

A record for a failing conjuror and the assistant who believes none of it.

A record of a conservator and a street artist restoring one wall.

A long-distance record with real surf under every track.

A dusk-lit record of a photographer and a bridge violinist.

A carnival record of a photo-booth reunion twenty years on.

A sun-faded single of a camp note that reaches its reader two decades late.

A cosmic record of two sceptics colliding under identical skies.

A fiddle-led record of two cousins made to share one harvest.

A farewell LP of ballroom ballads for two dancers ten years estranged.

A short, sweet single built entirely on notes written on a coffee cup.

A duet record assembled from half-songs traded between two windows.

An upbeat workplace record about a check that keeps being failed on purpose.

A commuter-hour single about two strangers finally marooned on one platform.

A pencil-soft record of a book passed back and forth.

A tense, elegant record by two divorced co-writers forced back together.

A late-night record of a proofreader and an unseen author.

A hushed record of scents composed for a name he won't say.

A spring record about a six-week garden job that never quite ends.

A homecoming record for a woman back to settle an estate.

A gilded record of a soldier home to a kept ring.

A mixtape-turned-LP made for one particular listener, found years late.

A duet about two writers certain they're correcting each other.

A road record of two rival travel writers sharing one car.

A record built around a hidden page that names a living man.

A dusk record of a lamplighter keeping one old lamp burning.

A sparring record of rival columnists sharing one page.

A piano-led record built one key at a time by a tuner and a retired pianist.

A warm small-town record of a bookshop reunion.

A rain-washed record of two widowed neighbours under one umbrella.

A quiet record built around a pressed flower that carries a name back.