Just Like the Real Thing

I haven't had regular access to a turntable since high school, so the vinyl that I collected back in the mail order days have been collecting dust for almost 10 years now. I never intended that to happen but since I move every year or two, I've never been able to convince myself it was the right time to buy one. In those ten years, I've kept my vinyl spending to a minimal (exclusives only), but I'm missing be able to have a turntable at my disposal more and more these days.

I know there's the audiophile argument for vinyl: less compressed, crisper quality, warmer sounds, etc and while I do notice those nuances, I mostly miss the idea of sitting in one room and listening to music. I bump my iPod in the car so when I get a new CD, I have to go home, rip it onto my computer, and then transfer the songs onto the iPod, before I listen to it. Then I put the CD on a shelf, only needing it when a friend wants to borrow it. Vinyl doesn't seem as disposable and cheap, it's something to be cherished. It's almost feels like you have the real thing, opposed to some mass produced CD (obviously vinyl is mass produced as well).

A couple of months ago, I was notified by Josh and Sherlan that they had acquired a turn table for their apartment. I was especially excited since I had just gotten an exclusive Pavement Live LP in the mail a couple of months earlier and I had failed in my attempts to find a friend who had a record player. Unfortunately the needle was in poor condition and needles not in high demand or supply, so I was left back where I started, with an unlistened to Pavement LP.

This past weekend, I showed up to their apartment with the sole intention of hanging out and grabbing dinner with Sherlan. Dinner was good, perhaps too good. "When can food be too good?" you might ask. It's when you get fried sweet potatoes lathered in butter. That is the answer. It's always amazing when you go to one of your favorite places and still find new things to dazzle your taste buds. These are the surprises in life that I wake up for every day. To my surprise, this surprise was just the appetizer to the main course.

Shortly after Sherlan and I returned to the apartment, Josh came home, and for some reason the turntable discussion came up again.  It turns out that Josh had acquired a working turntable and had also brought a box of various records from home.  Though I didn't have any of my vinyl with me, there was plenty of good stuff.  Sherlan had his Talking Heads debut album, which he had picked up on Record Store Day (I picked up a second Pavement Live LP and a Flight of the Conchords 7"), and Josh had everything from John Lennon's Plastic Ono Band to Van Halen's 1984.  After a brief spin of Plastic Ono Band and Talking Heads, 1984's and Queen's Greatest Hits' A-Sides were listened to in their entirety.  Everything sounded clearer, crisper, there was a larger discrepancy between the soft and the loud, the guitar solos had more of an edge.  And then, everything just came together.

First we fired up the Tetris arcade machine they had, thinking Tetris and rock and roll would work.  It was alright, Rush combined with Space Invaders probably would've been a better choice (see Futurama).  Then we decided to do some Wii Bowling while listening to Sports by Huey Lewis and the News.  All of a sudden, their living room had magically been transformed into the coolest virtual bowling alley (I understand the oxy moron here) that could ever be imagined.  Sure Daniel Plainview had a bowling alley built into his mansion in There Will Be Blood, but to me, that didn't feel like a bowling alley.  A bowling alley isn't about solitude and class, it's about League Night, loud music and friends.  Bowling is awesome in the same vein as karaoke.  It's about disregarding tact and the limits that we place on ourselves daily.  This was not a night to quietly listen to Animal Collective while drinking scotch.  It was a night of the Tetris Soundtrack, Van Halen's "Panama", Sports, and a healthy dose of trash talk, just like the real thing.