The Appeal of Vinyl

It's funny when I think about vinyl, because as I was growing up, that was starting to be considered an outdated mode of music, and appeared to be going the way of the 8-track.

Yet, rather ironically, much of the music that I grew up listening to was, in fact, on vinyl. There were a few old Beatles albums, both in my grandparent's place, as well as in some relatives homes in France. Maybe an old Rolling Stones album or two, and at least one Animals album - "Eric is Here", by Eric Burdon and the Animals (some Animals fans do not consider this an "Animals" album, since Eric Burdon had essentially gotten rid of the original lineup and replaced them, then called the band "The Animals", adding his own name in front of it). There was also a much beloved record by Otis Redding, and each time I hear one of the songs from that album, it takes me back to those pleasant times of listening to that scratchy record. I have "I've been loving you a little too long" in my head right now, actually.

My brother and I loved music, and we began collecting albums ourselves. But here's the thing: we opted for what was then the superior technology: cassette tapes.

These days, absolutely no one collects cassette tapes. They have been completely replaced by compact disks, by MP3's, on Ipods and IPhones, by digital downloads and, yes, by vinyl.

Vinyl is back in fashion, and some years ago, I began to try and restore something of my old vinyl collection.

For me, it was ignited again with Pearl Jam, a band that made a point of keeping vinyl relevant. At the time, I did not fully understand it, admittedly. They were at the height of their power, and fans like me were eagerly anticipating the release of their albums. Yet, they would release their albums on vinyl first, thus assuring a spike in the sales of vinyl. Plus, the annual Christmas record for fan club members was systematically on vinyl, as well.

Why? I couldn't figure it out.

But there is a draw to vinyl. First of all, I think there is something to the feeling of getting something physically big like this. The album artwork is huge, very pronounced. You tear off the shrink wrap and open it up, and it feels much more exciting than doing the same with the tiny cassette tapes, or even cd's. You really feel like you're getting something.

And then, of course, there is the sound. I remember putting records on. Placing the needle gently at the beginning of the record, hearing that faint scratch, then hearing the slight humming, if that is the right way of describing it. And finally, the music.

Devoted fans of vinyl swear that the music simply sounds better on vinyl. Perhaps, although I think there is a case to be made with the clarity of music made by the most advanced technological means available to us now. What I suspect, is that people who grew up on vinyl came to love exactly the process I just described. They enjoy putting the needle on the record, listening to the sound before the music even comes on, and watching the disk spin rapidly around, almost like a pottery wheel, where art is being made. That, and the artwork on the album, including the sleeve that the actual record is usually inside of. It's a whole package.

Perhaps it is comparable to book lovers, who prefer hardcovers over softcovers. Now, realistically, softcover books tend to have superior binding, and they last longer if used often. Also, they are cheaper - often far cheaper. Yet, most book lovers tend to pick hardcovers, especially for collectible books. I myself prefer hardcover, although I could hardly explain why. It makes almost no sense. They take up more room, and the binding usually is not all that great. Still, when a book truly means something to me, I want it in hardcover, and with the dustjacket. I am trying to actively detach myself from that, because again, these things take up a hell of a lot of space, and that began to be problematic in it's own right. So, I try to keep my library card in good order, and when I do order books, try to do so on my Kindle now, hoping it is better for the environment. But if I feel I really want one book physically, it is almost exclusively in hardcover that I choose, even to this day, knowing what I know (knowing that I know better). It's a bit like an addiction.

Admittedly, that was not the way I felt about vinyl growing up. It seemed a very antiquated way of doing things, a reminder, perhaps, of just how far behind our family tended to be (or, again, so it seemed to me). At that time, being that young, it was all about fitting in, and on many levels, we just didn't.  We still had records, and who still collected records by the early eighties? Nobody in my class, I can tell you that right now. And this just seemed confirmation of how far behind we were. We were the family that not only did not have HBO, like all the other kids had (and talked about incessantly), but we did not have cable! They would talk about the movies that every single one of them had seen, and the cartoons that they were familiar with, and it seemed I was the only one who could not converse about these, having not seen them. They all had the cool toys, and I could only watch them play with envy. All of the other kids went to Disneyland (or Disneyworld, I still always get confused which is which, exactly) for vacation. My family had never been to Florida - although my brother and I got to go to France, and even some other parts of Europe, for which I am very grateful to this day.

Yes, my family seemed to be different, and when you are at the age when fitting in means everything. At the time, it seemed like a curse.

Now, it feels like it was a blessing in disguise. I am so very glad that my parents actually could take us to Europe, that we had family that was willing and able to take us, so that we could see some things that those other kids never did. True, I never did go to Disneyworld or Disneyland (or even Euro Disney!). But truth be told, I take that as a point of pride now. I know people, and I mean adults, who go there regularly still, and it seems....well, a bit boring and conformist. Processed, almost. Recently, it was announced that admittance prices stand at $99 for one day! Those kids that went down there would almost flaunt it when they understood that I had never been there. They knew that I was French, and they made sure that I knew that they had also visited the "French district" in Disney (Disney has a part where you can visit other countries around the world). They talked about this like it was the real deal, or even better. But whatever imitation buildings and Eiffel Towers and "French" restaurants they make, it is not the real deal. Nor is a "visit" to their "Little Italy" or miniature China or whatever other countries they offer down there anything like the real deal. It's a prepackaged, safe, and unenlightened experience - of that I'm sure. It is too watered down, overly cartoonish and, yes, too Americanized. Indeed, how could it be otherwise?

These days, I am glad that my family did not have cable, did not have HBO, and that we did not watch all of the "cool" shows or movies.

And, yes, I am even glad that we grew up a bit on vinyl. No, we did not grow up in an age when that was pretty much our only option. But we grew up familiar with it, listening to actual "records" that came from the time when playing records was the only means of listening to big rock bands, other than going to see them in concert.

Years ago, I found myself beginning to reminisce quite fondly, actually, about vinyl. Began to pick up some of those Pearl Jam albums on vinyl, which seem to be quite expensive these days. Began to pick up and dust off some of my own old records from childhood, the handful that I had. Began to track down and find a few albums that meant something to me, here and there. Even scored a "treasure" once in a while, like finding a very good copy on vinyl of The Rolling Stones "Let It Bleed" album at the Salvation Army for all of a whopping fifty cents! A couple of Bruce Springsteen albums, and a couple of Billy Joel albums, too!

True, my vinyl collection is still rather small, and has been dormant now for some time. Why? Because these things cost money and take space, and just lately, I have found myself a bit short on both of those counts.

But I appreciate vinyl these days, certainly more fully than as a child, when it seemed just one more sobering, depressing reminder that I was "different". Now, I can celebrate all of that. Yes, all of it. I may not have been to Disneyland, and may have not been the happiest of campers when it came to the arrangement of listening to great old rock albums on scratchy records, but I can sure appreciate all of those things now. My life might not be perfect, and much like back then, I cannot keep up with "perfect" people who own their own homes, and have two new expensive vehicles tucked away in a two car garage, and have just tons of cool and trendy things and modern conveniences that decorate the walls of their homes.

But I think that I can appreciate what I have, more than ever before in life. And that counts for something, doesn't it?

Maybe wisdom is coming to me with advancing age?

Nah....