Vinyl I Have Known

I bought myself a new audio toy for Christmas, a catalogue item that basically presents an opportunity for the technologically impaired to make CDS , the device resembling an old time phonograph. Its distinct appeal to me was that you could take your old scratchy, half-destroyed albums - the copy of Beggars Banquet, for example, that I dripped candle wax on - play them on the turntable and dub them onto a more permanent format. It seems odd to be referring to vinyl as if it is a archaeological relic. I understand the limitations of records in respect to sound quality and longevity, but I can't let go of them. I've dragged my dwindling collection around for years, along with the handful of books I saved from college and some random pieces of furniture. I know how stupid that is, but I've spent so much time with them that they take on a mythic significance.

There's my ultra-exclusive advance copy of "Born To Run", Springsteen's breakthrough album, that was handed to me by an acquaintance in the studios of Martha's Vineyard's original radio station in the summer of 1975. Of course I was stuck with trying to explain how I had gotten a copy when most of the major urban stations were still waiting for the single, so I just played dumb and wallowed in the attention. You can tell it's unique because the inside record label has no list of songs, just A on one side and B on the other.

I still have one of the first records I spent my allowance on, Gary US Bonds' LP with "Dear Lady Twist" and "Twist, Twist Senora". Bonds himself autographed the album backstage at the Paradise in Boston during his "comeback" tour, commenting that the value of the disc with his signature probably equalled the production costs for the original record.

Unfortunately, my collection is a shadow of its former self. Leaving substantial deposits in ex-girlfriends' apartments accounts for some of the losses, but I also sold a Bob Marley collection as well as numerous other still unwrapped "promo" (supplied by the record labels) copies filched from various radio stations to various "used" record stores.

The leftovers include Joan Armatrading's "Back To The Night", which was an island-wide hit on the Vineyard as well as a fairly well preserved copy of the Doors first album. "Heartbeat City" by the Cars and J. Geils' "Freeze Frame" commemorate my time in suburban Boston trying to break into the big time. The majority date from a stint at a rocker in scenic East Providence, like Steve Miller, Joe Walsh and an almost complete Tom Petty catalogue. Sadly, the really important records are long gone, like the Magic Sam album and Chuck Berry's Golden Decade double set from the legendary Chess Records, or the Paul Butterfield collection , the Bo Diddley LP and the two exceptionally battered Junior Walker & The All Stars records that I played until they were festooned with scratches.

I'm already transcribing the vinyl to CD, but its really more of an excuse to keep busy. I'll never let go of those records. I've heard that vinyl is coming back. As far as I'm concerned, it never left.