I open the front door and step into familiarity. The hallway, filled with album covers of Chicago, The Guess Who, and even Jimmy Buffet, appeals to my music loving nature. I dash toward it, hoping to detox everyday stresses out of my system. I desire music. All my problems can be erased with a little music. At my destination waits a turntable and a plethora of records. Once there I pick a record at random. The sliding sleeve releases a peculiar scent. It is a simple, influential smell. After interpreting the smell’s once hidden meaning my olfactory senses direct my thoughts towards memories past.
Let’s face it, life used to be simpler. Computers have birthed a new age: information at the ready, more efficiency in everything, and of course, the MP3 player. In the house, in the car, on the plane, or on the train; Ipod ear buds find themselves comfortably nestled in the ears of millions. Digital music has spread like wildfire across America, and unfortunately vinyls get left in the path of ashes. This puts all of music in jeopardy. New recording methods abuse the advantages provided by technology, lessening original audio qualities through enhancement. New recording methods invoke filters and effects, changing the audio. When using analog, music is recorded – it’s that simple. Music heard on a vinyl is identical to the music made at the recording sessions. No sound alterations, everything real. Unlike digital, analog records music by transposing sound waves onto a physical medium instead of a dull, digital sequence of numbers. Sprouting from such deep rooted integrity, records grew into an icon of authenticity.
As the thirty three and a half revolutions of grooved vinyl spin round, the receiver translates vibrations, and the speakers release the music. Just as a live band miscues, so does a vinyl record. Vinyl records scratch and skip. Dust builds on the needle. Wear diminishes the grooves. Some consider these deformities and issues problematic; I do not. Vinyls contain culture, an artist’s emotions and thoughts, and nick induced nuances: that is authenticity.
I am a lover of vinyl records. Provided release from a monotony filled life, I turn to records for pleasure and a surge of solitude. The ease of escape with records always amazes me; regrettably few indulge themselves as I do. Many consider vinyl records an outdated form of audio, an outdated way of life. However, I believe in the pure. I believe in the simple. I believe in vinyl records.
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