The Vinyl Touch - Gino Vannelli
Truth is, vinyl records get dusty, react to weather and warp. Scratches and finger prints cause needles to get jumpy. The disc dies a little with each play. Getting good solid levels on the disc is a mission all by itself, not to mention how to deal with the inner groove noise and inability to have complex information on the final tracks of each side due to the shrinking circumference of the grooves as they near the center.
When vinyl ruled, not so long ago, let me tell you, my brothers Joe and Ross, myself included, wished so hard for a better medium to present our music. That brings me to a point I thought I would never make, at present.
In this day of MP3’s and everything digitized, mostly all for practicality’s sake, that twelve-by-twelve piece of oil-by-product, to my shock, has seemingly aged like a fine wine, or a rare antique, touting a lot of history and fascination for an age past. Despite the shortcomings, there are some true enchantments to this flat, black disc. For instance: holding a foot-square sleeve in your hands while listening to some latest art rock or jazz or blues, or anything off the beaten path. Listening to vintage music heightens the experience all the more. It brings back the ritual of the way we used to listen to music before the proverbial coin was so devalued by the digital revolution. It rarifies the half-forgotten rite of sitting down to music, finding yourself engrossed and held captive, as you check out the cover art, credits and liner notes. You become a focused and involved listener, in lieu of a soundbyte spectator.
All in all, despite the technical drawbacks of a design born of a time gone by, vinyl has risen from the ashes and has now become somewhat of a noble plaything, sought after like an old-fashioned coke machine, high-end classic vintage wear, or a rare baseball card. Indeed it has now become the mark of the serious music afficinado
–groovy with me.