The Joy of Vinyl

The joy Records Have brought me from inception of collecting to now

            I stare at a shelf made by my dad and I, with a Stanton record player, and a set of PC speakers (Plights of not living alone), and a tablet stand holding a Woodstock album, on the top, and almost 250 records, with a secret stash of records in my closet, and a case for singles on the shelving unit itself. By it three anthology cases holding complete discographies of Benny Goodman, Swing hits from 1940, and another Jazz set by percussionist Red Norvo. All of it in a corner in my bedroom. A small carpet near the shelf, masked with pillows and a lava lamp. 60’s themed posters and Tapestries, and a line of album covers stuck to the wall. My happy space. I sit and wonder, ‘how the hell in three years-time did I mass so many albums?’ What started with wanting to decorate my wall with music posters and album covers turned into a passion as addictive as a drug.

            In April 2014, I was In New York City enjoying spring break. I was a junior in high school and figuring out my identity. I was wandering the streets of East Village in Manhattan when I came across a record store. I have heard of records before, my dad had a record player in his at home office, and old records from when he first moved to the United States. I have never actually spun a record though. So I decided to take walk inside. Near the footsteps of the store, I saw a cardboard box, in sharpie it wrote ‘$1.’ I thought it would be cool to buy something like this and hang it on my wall. I found two albums I absolutely adored growing up, Billy Joel’s The Stranger, and Boston’s self-titled. I bought them both. After I returned back home after break, out of sheer curiosity, I asked my dad if I can spin both on his turntable. When I placed the needle on the groove, let me tell you, it was a sound I have never heard before. My favorite songs were playing under a needle, full of warmth. If they say love at first sight exists, this was love at first spin. I ended up begging for a record player, and the holidays that same year, I got one. While it was a highly criticized record player, it was a record player nevertheless.

            Slowly and surely, my collection began to expand. I started with a small storage box, and eventually found myself planning to build a shelf with my dad to store them all. From that followed upgrading to a more professional record player, my Stanton I am deeply in love with. The record player and speakers I use to bring out the sound from each groove doesn’t hold much importance to me, not as much as the titles at least. I am not one of those collectors who mindlessly just buys the first album in the rack. I take my time to spin and listen before the purchase if it is an artist I never heard of, or just to make sure a used record sounds pristine to purchase and spin time after time again. It is the albums that hold sentimental value to me. My first two records for example, even if I reach 1000 records, I will always remember the first two I bought in a cardboard box in East Village in 2014. Some titles such as my two Woodstock albums hold their importance because the 60’s is one of my favorite times for music history, and social movements. While I was born long after Woodstock, the first bands I have ever heard as a young adolescent was in fact music of that era.

            My massive collection of Doors records, is special to me. One of the first bands I ever discovered was in fact the Doors. I just fell in love with them. If it weren’t for Grateful Dead, I would probably never have met one of my first friends in college, and every Dead album just reminds me of our friendships and the times we spent at our local record store sharing our passion for music. Record collecting as a whole has let me meet many other collectors just as insane as I am not only about music, but for these huge disks made of vinyl with engraved grooves filled with great music, both old and new. Some of those people I even met were owners or workers at record stores. One of these people I met at a record store best described as a hoarders attic. That store is a treasure hunt of golden nuggets you have to dig for. It is disorganized with milk crate, after milk crate, shelf after shelf of albums. The walking space is limited, but the hunt is the best part of it all. You may find a Disco record, and right behind it a collectors must have.

            At this store I met a worker and today, most of my visit is consisted of talking to him about music and movies, and at times life in general. It seems as if with every collector there is a magnetic bond that a complete stranger who collects records as well have, and upon meeting it just seems that these two people knew each other for years. That was the exact album I had with him. Three years of visiting that store for mostly Jazz and R&B records, we talk and enjoy the mutual passion of vinyl. Over the years I found myself doing things for this passion that I would never fathom doing in the early days of collecting. Such as waking up at four in the morning just to stand outside a record store for record store day, or blowing my first paycheck on a set of records. Record collecting truly is an addiction without the actual drugs. Even when money is short, you will still find a way to get your fix if you will. Even with over 300 there is never no space for another record. The passion goes even beyond just enjoying music on another format. It goes deep into the personal level of my life as a whole.

            Every album holds the story of my life. A moment, a single memory, or an entire phase. Anxiety used to keep me from going out and meeting new people. As soon as I began to collect and further explore new music, I met people who I could connect with. There is nothing better than meeting someone you can show your full enthusiasm with, and they will share that same passion. In this passion, everyone has a huge pallet in music taste, and everyone around you is the same walking music encyclopedia as you are.  Of course being twenty, finding someone my age who also is willing to cash in money for an album is very rare, but upon finding one of those people, makes it all worth it. While I have a few kids my age who enjoy the hobby as much as I do, I found my niche. Record goes beyond just enjoying an album on an older format, it expresses just how much people love music. If one didn’t love music beyond just keeping their earbuds in their ears to fill in white noise, they wouldn’t buy vinyl.

            Those of my tribe don’t have just one favorite genre, song or artist, in fact we can’t even point one out. Our passion for music goes beyond the average listener, and to me that honestly is the greatest thing ever. A major appreciation for music just makes life much more colorful. My personal collection has every genre under the sun, from the 17^th century, to this year’s releases. The biography of my life is engrained in the grooves of every album I have ever found in the crates of record stores.