Record Collecting
Record I'm Listening To: Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) - David Bowie
Beer I'm Enjoying: Very Enjoyable Beer - Mountain Goat Brewing
I have a Spotify subscription. It's convenient and relatively cheap. But for my thirtieth birthday, while living in the US, some friends in Melbourne sent me some money that I used to purchase a record player. I've been collecting records ever since. Unlike Spotify, records can be expensive. They're also cumbersome. I started my collection in North Carolina. That's where it is currently, safely in storage while my family and I are back in Australia. Even if I did have them with me, I wouldn't be able to listen to them while driving or taking a walk. They can only be listened to at home, and even then, I need to be near the record player so the record can be flipped over when one side finishes. Opinions are also divided as to whether records even sound better than their digital counterparts, which is one of the strongest arguments for their continued viability in the digital and streaming age. It seems there is nothing logical about collecting records these days. But humans seldom make decisions with the logical side of the brain, and vinyl sales have been increasing significantly for several years now. While not musical in a technical sense, listening to music is among my absolute favourite things to do. Collecting records has amplified this experience in a way that I didn't anticipate that it would. It far surpasses streaming music or building a music library on a service like Spotify. There's nothing to surpass that feeling of walking over to your collection, thumbing through the stack, making a decision on what to play, and taking a moment to marvel at the large, detailed print on the cover for a moment or two, sliding the precious vinyl out of its protective sleeve and gently placing it on the record player. The whole routine contributes wonderful intangible value to the entire listening experience.
In addition, it contributes to building community. I don't buy records online. This is my only buying rule. I would much rather have a conversation with the owner of a record store about an artist that they've recommended, than have something new generated for me by an algorithm based on recent listening history. The latter feels stale and artificial, while the former feels rich and genuine. I then feel like I'm giving back to the artist in a more significant way too. Being spoon fed something digitally from an algorithm also robs me of the surprise that comes with walking into a record store, not knowing what I might find. A major part of the fun is wondering in and out of record stores without looking for anything in particular, only to find a nostalgic album that I've been longing for is finally in stock, or a pre-loved version in good condition is being offered at a great price. This is also a wonderful way of exploring 'that other' record by a favourite artist that might frequently get overlooked by the recent history of a streaming service offering up more of the same stuff. This whole experience is especially fun when traveling and stumbling upon an artist or album never encountered in local stores back home. It then becomes a treasured souvenir of the trip.
After a bit of a hiatus since moving back to Melbourne, I've started collecting again. I might not be able to play the records, but that's not stopping me from putting them on display in bookcases (the artwork really does look so much better when it's not a tiny jpeg file) and then, dare I say it, listening to the album on Spotify. It's better than not being able to listen to the album at all, but it's not the same. Like most things I've started putting my attention on in recent years, I've observed collecting and listening to records to be far more mindful than simply streaming and the reward for the experience is therefore much more enriching.