The Long, Slow Death Of Vinyl

The Archive from Sean Dunne on Vimeo.

Even though I am not actually a musician, I've studied it enough to gain an appreciation for it, and I've listened to it enough to develop a deep love. I've gone through all sorts of phases. I've made repeated attempts to delve into historical music, but with limited success. I remember the disappointment I felt as a teenager when I decided I wanted to explore Big Band music, and I found very little on the subject. The tapes and CDs I found seemed to feature a limited playlist of "favorites" from the genre, but not a wide variety. The same thing happened when I became curious about what people were listening to at the turn of the twentieth century. And again when I developed a taste for 1920s hot jazz.

I don't mind listening to a CD that sounds like a record. If I can't hear the music live, I prefer to experience it as people of that time period did. Surface noise and static don't bother me. If I hear an old-fashioned song on Glee that I like, I usually end up opting for the original version rather than the Glee recording, because it sounds grittier, less polished. I want to tell this man, "I get it. I understand."

On the other hand, I don't have a place to store these records either. Space in our apartment is already limited, and I'm incapable of keeping our belongings organized as it is. I love the convenience and portability of an ipod, or listening to music in my car. As much as I would love one of those old-fashioned record player cabinets, there's no place for it, or the records, in my life.

I'm more concerned about what we lose when we lose this music. I also want to preserve it, mainly for my own use, but also for future generations to enjoy. But the task of converting all this music to a digital format seems insurmountable, and the tragedy feels severe. Sean wouldn't want his record collection digitized anyway. His goal is to keep it all on the records, whereas I would argue that digital recordings don't have to be autotuned to death. I can enjoy a Sophie Tucker CD that's so quiet I have to turn the volume all the way up to hear it, and the static is so loud it almost drowns out Sophie's voice. I'm always perplexed by the idea that the people around me can only enjoy top 40 music.

As much as it pains me, I think Sean is probably right. He's not alone, but not enough other people care about old music to save it.