by kevin diamond
Thursday night, I’m out with friends at The Levee in Williamsburg, talking about Vinyl. Could we be any more annoying? Maybe, if we were the drunk guy who stumbled in 20 minutes later and started peeing on the floor. But I digress. We’re talking about things that have gone out of style.
“Like CD’s, No one buys CDs anymore.”
We all agree.
“Yeah. You buy the Vinyl if you really like it, and download it otherwise.”
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It’s true, yet strange. The resurgence of Vinyl as some kind of vintage statement has been big for years. But now, for the first time, it seems like it’s returning as a major source of distribution. In this post-post-post-Napster world, at a time when no one feels guilty downloading a Torrent of the newest Matt & Kim record, and everyone’s got a membership to Demonoid or knows someone who does, tons of kids (at least in Brooklyn) are willing to splurge and drop 100 bucks on the Radiohead In Rainbows deluxe edition vinyl set. Or 20 bucks for the new Animal Collective. These kids have the MP3s already, so what’s the draw?
Maybe this is just a Brooklyn fad. I suppose most of middle America isn’t ransacking their parents’ attics for their old turntable and 45’s. But it sure seems like a match made in heaven. There’s no beating MP3s for portability and instant gratification, and let’s face it, we’re nothing if not a selfish, give-it-to-me-now, instant-gratification-hungry generation. But there’s a point when you begin to realize that the uber-compressed MP3s we’ve been consuming like twinkies ARE twinkies. Full of fluff and chemicals, filler, lacking in any kind of sustenance. And vinyl is a meal, for sure. Nothing matches it’s immediacy, it’s warmth and it’s glow.
Many record labels have realized this. When I bought Merriweather Post Pavilion, or Women’s self-titled album on vinyl, I got a slip of paper with a code that let me download the high-bit-rate MP3s of the entire album to throw on my iPod. Because no matter how much I love a record on Vinyl, I’m not getting rid of my little apple box.
So that’s one side of the coin: A new vinyl record, 180 grams of perfection, gives you the joy of the ALBUM in a single dominated world, and still allows you the pleasure of making a playlist for your trip to work. But, as with all coins, there’s a flip side. The other joy of owning a record player: the treasure hunt. I can’t walk passed a used record store without stopping in and flipping through a couple racks. Because what if I come across that album I didn’t know I needed, and I almost passed by without checking?
Last night, I stopped by Academy Records on N. 6th between Berry and Wythe, and I bought myself a little present. I had come across 20 bucks sitting in a snow pile, which never fucking happens to me, and thought I’d use it to reward myself. Flipping through the used records there were jewels abound. Some old Devo cuts, a couple Brian Eno albums, a Best Of Buddy Holly record. I finally settled on two: the double-disc classic Zen Arcade by Hüsker Dü, in mint condition and looking resplendent, and my all time favorite jazz album, Mingus Ah Um by Charles Mingus.
Charles Mingus on Vinyl. There was something I hadn’t realized I’d been missing in my life. I rushed home and put the needle down on the wax. Opening song, “Better Git it in Your Soul” is quite possibly the best song ever written. Sounds hyperbolic, but if you put a gun to my head, I’d probably pick it as my favorite of all time. Hearing it with this level of warmth and immediacy was a beautiful thing, and I thanked my lucky stars for the record player and the soggy twenty that brought me this joy.
2 Comments
Love this album. Got the vinyl pre-cd era, then the cd when it came out, now it’s ripped & on the pod.
Best article written on the subject to date. and yes Mingus knew something that we will never know but spend the rest of our lives trying to figure out.