My Record Speaks for Itself

I listen to LPs.

This begs 2 primary questions—

What's an LP?

and

In the name of God, Why?

—which I gladly answer.

Never mind the audiophiles who, with raised eyebrow, declare that records sound "warmer" than CDs. (They do.) Never mind that digital stuff from the computer needs Bose products to sound good. (It does.) Sound is important, but only to people who appreciate sound. Everybody else wants the song, no matter how boxy an 8-track sounds, or how hissy cassette decks in Firebirds sound, or how uber-sanitized compact discs sound, or how squashed downloads sound. Now that's a good thing—music, especially pop, is supposed to be about the song. But to the questions: I, my friends, listen to them because they are an art form now understood only by archaeologists.

There was a time, not long ago, when an artist recorded a performance and that recording was made available in the millions. The medium was a vinyl disc with grooves which vibrated a stylus and the resulting impulses were amplified. This was the standard for nearly 50 years. Then in the 90s, digital coding was read by laser and computed through other digital machinery that projected sound waves (not yet digitized). This method was new, hip and compact: the record collection that filled a room now was a CD collection that only filled half a wall. That made plenty of room for that mandatory Kahlo print.

LPs died quickly. Fair enough—change is real and beneficial. And even though album art was lost to the small size of CDs, we've all gotten along fine without it. And stoners found ways to clean the buds...

So now I acquire records in 2nd hand stores or at garage sales. I examine their condition and if in reasonably good shape, I pay the 75¢. After a thorough cleaning, my basic rite is to have a seat, put the disc on the turntable and ... sail away. After about 25 minutes, I have to get up and turn the thing over, but I don't mind. The pops and cracks are appealing as the sound of yesterday. And I'm surprised how well records were cared for over the years. Really trashed LPs are likely in the landfill anyway.

After dinner the other night, we all rolled up our sleeves and got to the cleaning. I put on "Golden Goodies 6", a Roulette Records compilation of Doo Wop. There was precisely one song that we all recognized; every other one was an entirely new experience.

I know you can have the same experience with other forms of recorded music. There are scads of any CD you can imagine available at your favorite music store. But with records, there is that couple seconds after the needle lands percussively on wax, and before the first note sounds. It takes control of everyone for just a moment. It's anticipation of the song, and it's actually part of a record.