Vinyl Albums

Posted on by Opher

 

In the UK – paperback and digital:

https://read.amazon.co.uk/kp/card?preview=inline&linkCode=kpd&ref_=k4w_oembed_bwZ4eDYWobfMOo&asin=B018YJBYWG&tag=kpembed-20

In the USA in both paperback and digital:

https://read.amazon.com/kp/card?preview=inline&linkCode=kpd&ref_=k4w_oembed_N8zhRVPTSwhHwz&asin=B018YJBYWG&tag=kpembed-20

The Pleasure of an Album

Posted on by Opher

The Pleasure of an Album

 

The excitement of anticipation as the heart rate speeds,

The eyes narrow at the eagerness of anticipation.

Sifting through the racks with narrowed eyes;

Lifting a discovery for closer inspection of the cover,

Flipping to check the track listing;

Gathering a selection with contained fervor;

An assortment of possibility from which to choose.

Then the angst of decision –

Followed by the despondency of loss

As the discarded are replaced with many a reflective vacillation.

Clutching the winner there is now impatience pervading the purchase,

As the money is paid and the album professionally wrapped within its paper wrapper and sealed with sellotape.

The return home is hurried and filled with nervous indecision.

Was the choice correct? What about the other fish?

Within the sanctum the treasure is unwrapped and the prize clutched and reexamined.

It is time to perform the ritual and extract the paper sleeve from within its cardboard resting place.

The black vinyl disc is extracted from the inner sleeve,

Held reverently, by its rim with two hands, up to the light to inspect the sanctity of the grooves, and approved.

When satisfied the disc is lowered so that peg and hole are aligned in erotic summary preparing for consummation.

The arm is raised with delicate concentration and deferentially lowered to apply needle to the outer blank vinyl, so carefully.

Breath is released as the success – a click followed by a satisfying hiss.

Then to sit back as the faint noise wends into the sound

And as it fills the room to immerse oneself in its thrall;

To study the artwork,

To flip the cover and read the track listing, then the liner notes.

To lose oneself, to submerge, to examine, to breathe in, to absorb the full package of art, information and sound as it embraces you in its multisensory, concentrated reverie.

For this is the pleasure of an album.

 

Opher 8.3.2018

Vinyl Albums – Works of art

Posted on by Opher

Vinyl Albums – Works of art

A vinyl album is a work of art. It is not merely the music. You are holding something that is substantial and is full of integrity. The first thing you notice is the weight. It has gravity. This is an object of importance. The second thing is the cover. I have bought unknown albums on the strength of the cover. It is a work of art. It tells you something about the nature of the music. It tells you about the people in the band. The front cover of a vinyl album, unlike the tiny sleeve of a CD, is big enough to hold and look at. It has importance. Those tiny CD sleeves are throwaway garbage, corporate advertising. But a vinyl album cover is something else. You can treasure it. Then you turn the album over and look at the back. There is information you can actually read! You don’t need a fucking microscope!

When I used to get home with a treasured purchase I would spend time looking at the cover, reading the writing. If there was a booklet/insert I’d get it out and read that too. I would take the album out and look at it to check for scratches. Then I’d put it on the turntable and gently apply the stylus and listen.

The music was warm. I didn’t mind the odd crackle. It was analogue heaven.

A vinyl album is a package – something of value to own and enjoy. It is so much more than just the music.

A vinyl album means something!

Vinyl Albums – Not just music! They are a full body experience!

Posted on by Opher

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Vinyl Albums – Not just music!

Holding a vinyl album is not merely a question of having purchased the music. The music was one aspect of the package. A vinyl disc is a whole other experience to that of a CD or MP3; it is a work of art, an information pack, a substantial object and something to adore.

I remember the joy of discovering a great long-hunted album in my local second-hand shop. Clutching it and looking at it as I took it home. It was large, heavy and looked good. I’d clean it, check for scratches, and put it on the record deck to play. It was a religious experience.

While I played it through I would study the cover; I would read the notes. The artwork was important. It was part of the vibe. The liner notes were also important. It wasn’t merely that they told you something about the band or the music; it was the way they were written, the vibe they produced; it drew you in to the ‘tribe’ you were buying into; it communicated with you in an exclusive manner. You were communicating with the band, music and all like-minded people who were tuned into that sound.

You immersed yourself in the experience. The music, art and notes were all part of an experience that sucked you in. It had a feel to it.

Nowadays you buy a CD and the artwork, sometimes a reproduction of the original, is inconsequential. It means nothing. It is too small to appreciate in the same way. The jewel case, or even worse, digi-cardboard case, has the feel of a disposable commodity. The CD is likewise disposable. The liner notes are unreadable. The print is so small that they are a pain. I sometimes struggle through a bit but soon give up. This is aggravated by bands feeling that they have got to write extensive essays, even short novellas, about themselves. Where has the art of the pithy, pertinent album liner notes gone?

The music is good but the package feels, especially when you factor in the exploitative cost, like a product and not a work of art.

The experience is not immersive or exhilarating in the same way. You do not feel that you are experiencing a total involvement of the senses. The eyes and brain are not engaged in the same way. It has been trivialised.

The CD does not have the weight, quality or size to be a possession of equal worth to that of a vinyl album.

Then you come to the MP3. I must admit that it is great to hear all those live shows and lost works that have suddenly been unearthed. I love the music. But the lack of any substance reduces the experience even further. There is nothing to hold, to own, to paw over or possess. There is nothing to collect. It feels empty and a lesser experience altogether.

I Love My Vinyl Albums. I love to hold them, smell them, read them, study them and play them. Nothing else comes near. They place me in a magic bubble!

If you want to read any of my books on Rock Music you can get them through the links below:

My memoir of my exploits with live music:

My overview of Rock Music up until the 1980s:

My tributes (and pen pictures) of some of the geniuses I have encountered:

Or my views on what are the best Rock Albums of all time: