Vinyl & Bleecker St. Records on Seinfeld

I'm a big fan of Seinfeld. The other day, I was watching the classic episode "The Old Man." I hadn't seen this one in a while, and certainly not since I've been collecting records, so it never really stuck out to me the role vinyl and record collecting plays in the storyline.

First, Kramer and Newman are trying to hawk some vinyl at a place called Bleecker Bob's Records. In reality, I think, that store is Bleecker St. Records in Greenwich Village. I've been there, and it looks just like the store in the episode. It's an great shop if you're ever in the area, and they have an absolutely insane collection of vinyl, ranging from whatever you can find in the crates, to gloriously displayed (on the walls) rare and super-expensive records (they have a $500+ U.K. Sgt. Peppers, which I think is one of the most expensive I've ever seen in person.)

Anyway, there's this scene (video here--I'd embed, but NBC doesn't get that whole thing, apparently) where Kramer and Newman go into the shop and run into one Tobin Bell, playing the record store owner straight out of central casting: mustached, dressed down, otherwise uninterested in dealing with those two. He dispassionately and routinely offers them "5 bucks" for whatever they have to offer -- which is probably about right, as far as I can tell.

Given how oblivious I was to the vinyl reference in this episode, though, it got me thinking about what the vinyl world looked like when this episode aired -- in 1993! I wonder what people in their 20s, 30s and 40s thought, seeing a record shop and vinyl on the teevee again. I personally have no idea, because I was 5 years old. But given the immense growth of the industry/vinyl world in just the past few years, it's safe to assume, I think, this world looked nothing like it does today. It was probably an even smaller niche than it was now. I imagine there were still crate diggers, but perhaps it wasn't as "mainstream" -- if it even is now. Certainly it wasn't big enough to get a Record Store Day reference on Saturday Night Live.

It's interesting to think, though, about the cycle of vinyl. It was big when it was the dominant form of music. Then, probably around 1993, give or take a few years, it receded into oblivion. Now? Record Store Day is huge for the consumers, and the record companies -- not to mention the shops. More than 1,500 people showed up for the last D.C. record fair. Vinyl's back.

I'm not sure what it all means. But I'm really interested to see what this vinyl thing will look like 17 years from today.

Why Record Store Day & the vinyl revival marks the death of the CD - if anything - in a good way!

Video killed the radio star. CD killed the vinyl record. And the MP3 killed the CD. In this progression of technological and musical advancement, where does the vinyl record's revival fit into the equation? I think only recently we've begun to see an answer to this question.

If you ask me, if there's any lasting effect that's likely to be seen from the vinyl revival, it's the death of the compact disc, despite what you may have heard. Think about it this way: for years there were vinyl records, which were the main means through which most everyone listened to music that didn't exist in radio transmissions. Eventually - and we've skipped the 8-track here - the CD came along and replaced the vinyl record in terms of price of production, portability and ease of use. That made sense, and the vinyl record was declared dead, buried with various other pre-1990 practices about which discussion has been avoided for obvious reasons.

Eventually, MP3s and the iTunes store came along, allowing people to buy certain songs and albums without ever having to leave the comfort of their point of Internet access, wherever that may be. Music was freed from the confines of walkmans, speaker wire and clunky boomboxes, for good or ill. Before we knew it, musical liberation was brought to anyone with the means to access the Internet and iTunes. Vive la musical revolucion! (...as it were.) In time, CDs became like a thumb drive, essentially a medium for storing musical data.

But then came that pesky vinyl record that just. will. not. die. Out of the ashes, it's back, and now there's this national Record Store Day thing that's big enough that my parents are calling me, saying they heard about it and wondering what I picked up (multigenerational fun!). Then there's the fact that more and more records are coming with digital download codes instead of CD copies -- who needs THAT? It's clear, given the recent strength of the vinyl revival, that it's indeed the CD that is on the march toward obsolescence, and here's why:

As I pointed out in this post, and above, since most everyone simply buys a CD for the digital data that's able to be loaded onto an iPod or MP3 player, the CD is more a means to these ends than anything else. A digital download, with a vinyl record, meets that need in a more pleasing way than a CD. When's the last time you heard someone say, "Yeah, I heard it, but I really want to buy the CD, you know, just to have it." And if there was a specific need for a CD, the low cost of a bunch of CD-Rs means that the musical data is easily made into a CD to meet whatever needs that medium fulfills. This low cost of production is a contributing factor to the death of the CD that, gladly, the vinyl record does not have to deal with.

But the point is, a vinyl record of music presents something that's pleasing to look at and very tangible in a way that adds to its value. There are often books or posters that come along with the album, and there's the album art and the records itself. It's all a nice bonus on top of the music that's available to many, regardless of their medium of choice. In this sense, the CD is utterly useless, a cheap plastic disc with little value outside of data storage, aside from the ability to walk straight out of a store and pop the CD into a car. And I challenge anyone to tell me of a time they last did that, or, better yet, point to data that show any significant number of people do that at all.

I admit, there's a large population of people who either download music illegally or just download it without even considering going to pick up a new album in a store of any kind. Sure, for these people, any physical copy of music is an unnecessary bother when they could simply download it via a click or two. But outside of this group, what we're seeing is an opportunity for the music industry to capitalize on two musical phenomena (vinyl and digital) decades apart that, coincidently, have merged to provide a great opportunity to an industry that's suffering under the weight of new technologies.

The portability of digital music, with the aesthetics of the vinyl record (with a 'digital option,' so to speak) present opportunity to capitalize on two different movements that are positive in a number of different ways. This is why, I think, the CD is dead - D. E. A. D.

Record Store Day report... and why more people should shop local more often

It was just an off-topic tweet from the official Record Store Day Twitter account this morning, but it was also a good point, and really important, so I wanted to draw attention it. It said: "extend the @recordstoreday love to other local indie retail. Next week: Indie Hardware Store Day. Would organize, but we are tired."

Now, I don't know if Indie Hardware Store Day is real - a cursory Google search and my own common sense says no - but nonetheless, it's a good thought. By that I mean, supporting local, indie businesses, not just hardware stores explicitly, is a good thing. Here's the deal: There are obviously a lot of reasons to love Record Store Day and local record stores in general. The shops have become a sort of relic to a past when buying music was an experience rather than something that involved hopping into the nearest Best Buy. Record stores have some really good stuff that no one else has. There are the limited releases that are a lot of fun on certain days. There's the sense of community and just general enjoyment from it all that I've written about on this very blog. It's everything you wouldn't expect from a Best Buy or Target or something similar

But it's worth noting that Record Store Day - and the stores themselves - are great for all these reasons because they involve local/indie shops, not just by some magical virtue of vinyl. All the reasons to love RSD that I listed above - and I realize there are a lot more - are because of the objective nature of these stores. It's the local ownership, the small scale of operation. When I wrote about my experience at Joe's in Silver Spring, I said that never would've happened at a big box store. It's true, and the same goes for most everything that's great about record stores and vinyl collecting in general. But it's important to remember that it's just as much about the stores as the records. And, as great as the records are, the stores themselves are a big part of it. That same experience and benefits can come from a lot of the great local stores of any kind.

To that end, it's worth keeping that in mind when you're buying other items around town -- assuming you still have money left over after Record Store Day. Go to the independent bike store when you need some work done, for example. Order from a local pizza or Chinese takeout place instead Dominoes and the like. Go to a co-op. The local independent business sector isn't as robust as it once was in a lot of places, and there are a lot of reasons for that. It's true that sometimes it costs a bit more, or you can't find everything you might want in one place. But if those are the downsides, there are a whole lot of benefits too. And it'd be a shame if, amid all this Record Store Day excitement, the fact that it started as a day to support local independent businesses (in this case, record stores) got lost and wasn't carried over to other shopping habits.

Record Store Day: First after-action report

My Record Store Day started at 6:30 a.m. with my cell phone alarm ringing. Note: This is at least an hour earlier than I get up for work every day. But this was Record Store Day. I'd live.

In the days before, I had decided Crooked Beat was the store of choice for the limited releases, since they seemed to have the most. Emma and I made it there by 7:45 a.m. and were officially the seventh and eighth people in line. That would end up being really important.

Over the next three to four hours, people continued to show up, Emma finished a book, I read the paper, got breakfast, etc. etc. Eventually, the line was to the end of the block. That's the boring part. Fast-forward to about 10:35 a.m., and there we are, with the manager explaining how this was all going to work and how many of each release they had. That John Lennon singles bag - only pressed 7,000 times, and coming with a custom adapter, postcards, poster, original album art in an awesome sleeve - that you might have heard about? They had six. SIX. I was seventh in line, and it seemed everyone in front of me was going to buy one. They had even fewer of the Beastie Boys release, of which there are only 1,000 (!) copies on the world. For the full list of everything that was out today - not necessarily everything at Crooked Beat - go here.

Anyway, we were let in the store, and while I waited to tell the people at the counter what I wanted, I watched as the Lennon singles went, one by one, out the doro. I had realized the fact - if I hadn't already - that I was not going to get this release. But then I was second in line... and there were still TWO on the shelf. Turns out, one of the guys ahead of me decided NOT to buy a John Lennon singles bag, purposefully allowing me to get the last one in the store, and probably the last one in the District/Maryland/Northern Virginia area, to be honest. I thanked him. He said, "Hey, I take care of my peoples." I feel like I should've bought him lunch or something. It's seems as though he just decided to let me have it. Seriously.

With those two albums in hand, plus the Flaming Lips and the rest listed below, I had every release I wanted, save a certain Bruce Springsteen release I didn't know much about until I was standing in line and looked at the person's ahead of me. But, given all that, I can, without a doubt, say that waking up at 6:30 a.m. and waiting a few hours on a Saturday morning was entirely worth it. The experience of someone ahead of me in line essentially passing up one of the most exclusive releases of the day - to be fair, a friend or two of his already had one - was just another example of what I've been trying to get at with this whole blog. This vinyl stuff is great. I love the music, but there's more to it. And it was a stark difference considering the guy who showed up this morning from a different record store - he shouted, "I got all that shit you want!" to someone else. He had bought two copies of the Lennon singles bag - he tried to get a third, but the store wouldn't let him - almost certainly just wanted to flip them later for a profit. What a waste.

It's exactly what I was saying in my post earlier this week. Here we were, a handful of people into vinyl in 2010. We had waited hours on the street. Were incredibly excited about the whole affair, and we knew that we were in the thing together. Ultimately, that showed. It made the morning go quicker. There was one guy I was talking with, he was going to run to McDonald's for food and a bathroom break. After talking to him for 10 minutes, he said he'd be right back. But he also asked me if I wanted anything for him to bring back for me in the line. A perfect stranger, just asked me if I'd like some breakfast, since he was going anyway. Show me one other time this would happen, and it can't involve a sign asking for help on the highway. Even then, it's unlikely.

And thanks to all that, and to Record Store Day in general, I'm writing this listening to some great John Lennon music right now. Now, THAT, alone, was worth getting up at 6:30 a.m. today.

Here's everything I got:

• Beastie Boys mystery white release (1,000 pressed worldwide)
• Black Keys - 12-inch singles: Howlin' For You/Tighten Up (limited)
• The Doors - People are Strange 7-inch (2,500 pressed worldwide)
• Flaming Lips - Dark Side of the Moon (5,000 pressed worldwide) - Rare CLEAR vinyl
• Jimi Hendrix live at Clark University 1968 (limited)
• John Lennon Singles Bag (7,000 pressed worldwide)
• Rolling Stones - Plundered My Soul 7-inch (Exile on Main St. outtakes) (limited)
• Velvet Underground - Live 1969 Vol. 1 reissue (1,500 pressed worldwide)
• Neil Young - Heart of Gold 7-inch (limited)
• Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Skeletons 7-inch (limited)

On Record Store Day - The Day Before

I've been thinking a lot about Record Store Day lately, for more reasons than one. Obviously, it's a great day in its own right. In Minneapolis there were always in-store concerts, sales on most everything and so on. In D.C., there are sales, giveaways, maybe some in-stores? I'm not sure. But all those things make Record Store Day, in and of itself, a worthwhile affair. Anything that brings like-minded people together is a good thing.

But as I noted in the previous post, this time around -- now that I actually have a record player -- I'm set on getting my hands on some of these exclusive releases. I'm so set, in fact, that I'll probably be lining up at least three hours before opening tomorrow in D.C.'s Adams Morgan neighborhood just to be among the first in line. Crooked Beat is stop number one, as I hear they'll have most releases and some giveaway bags as well.

The idea of getting up early, waiting that long in line - basically the day-after-Thanksgiving approach - is something I couldn't really see myself doing for anything for a long time though. I once waited six hours outside Fifth Element in Minneapolis for the last 100 remaining tickets to the Rhymesayers 10th Anniversary Show, but that ended up being one of the greatest concerts I've ever been to. Worth it. I also waited for a couple hours for a Brother Ali in-store/release party there, but nothing like this, I think.

Then I started thinking about the objective reality of what I'll be doing: Waiting in line for limited-release records that contain music that are only available for one day. In the year 2010, that's quite strange if you think about it. I could easily download a lot of music right now. I could find some of these records on Ebay or something - granted, they'll likely be much more expensive than they will be tomorrow. But, no. Tomorrow, on April 17, 2010, I'll be getting up early and waiting in line at a real-live store to buy music in it's physical form on vinyl. How strange.

But as strange as it is, I think that reality is what I like so much about this vinyl adventure. In today's world, so much is available at any time, whenever you want it. New music? Download it - maybe even for free. Movie you want to see? Go online. That television program you like? Hulu. You can Netflix, you can Tivo, you can stream, and on and on. I don't know if all that is really a good thing, though. It kind of cheapens the product and the experience. There's a big difference in the mindset when it comes to music when it can be either simply some coded data on a computer or a physical thing you can hold, look at, and so on. I mean, sure I watch stuff on Hulu and download music. But in a way that just hurts the sense of community around a common activity -- everyone's got their own screen, their own ear buds, doing their own thing. You're experiencing little together - that's no fun.

But Record Store Day has become a kind of last vestige of a time when people would get together to watch a show or listen to an album -- and just do that. More than just an excuse to probably spend too much money on records and go for the exclusive releases, Record Store Day is something that brings people together, as cheesy as that sounds (and believe me, I know it's cheesy). But it's true, too! Tomorrow, there I'll be, with a bunch of other like-minded people, standing in line, together, waiting to buy music we could - for the most part - already be listening to. On its face, that's strange. But if you get it, it's great. And it's really a rare thing in today's world. And I'm really, really looking forward to it.

If the world was a record store...

...What a wonderful world it would it would be. Today being a Sunday, and me with little to do, I decided to check out the newest record store in Silver Spring, Joe's Record Paradise. And indeed it is. I've heard the space was a pool hall at one point, so that gives you a sense of how big it is. Wall to wall records, CDs, an expensive rare section, posters, and on and on. It was well worth checking out, and I'll get to what I bought, exactly, and I spin this yarn that, once again, has convinced me of this fact: If the world was a record store, it would be great.

One of the records I (thought) I bought was The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, a sort of white whale for me, since I've never once come across a used copy in a store. It was $10.50, in good shape, and I was sold. Picked up a few others, and I was off, biking back home. Immediately, I put on Freewheelin' and what do I hear? 'Subterranean Homesick Blues' the first track off Dylan's 'Bringing it all Back Home' album. A great album, for sure. But I already have it. Turns out, I had bought one Dylan sleeve and another Dylan album. So I pack up and bike back to Joe's.

No trouble there -- I had thought they might think I was trying to scam them. They ask if I want the cash back or to look around for something else. I choose latter, and they check for another copy of Freewheelin'. No dice. So I head for a Country Joe and the Fish album I had previously passed up. $7.50? You got it. Then I find 'Remain in Light' from the Talking Heads with no price. Upon inquiry? $7. Well, we had a problem. I had $10.50 in store credit, but $14.50 in albums, plus tax. They say it could be settled for three bucks. I have no cash. We've got a problem.

The solution? One of the guys working there says, as the incense smoke swirls in the dusty air: "You know what man, for your trouble, let's just call it an even trade. Besides, [Remain in Light] is a great album, and if you don't already have it, you need it. Just come see us again sometime." Absolutely. So, for my trouble, I got a free $5 from the store, two albums instead of one, and a reason to visit again.

There aren't a lot of stores in which that would've happened. And I don't just think it's because it was a difference in $5 or so. It's as if they knew it probably kinda sucked to think you were getting an album, and then not. And to have to come back. And the "... and if you don't already have it, you need it..." line was great. It's almost as if they're desire to set me up with a classic album trumped their own business interests. It's about the experience, the record store culture, the shared quest for any and all records you'd ever want. It's as if we're all in this record collection adventure together; like I just got a collective, understanding nod from Joe's Record Paradise.

Paradise indeed. And just one more reason why this adventure is more than just a way to listen to music... it's an experience. Cultural. Musical. If only the whole world was a record store. And it(kind of) softened the blow of, once again, not having Freewheelin' Bob Dylan. Something to keep looking for, I suppose.

Today's buys:
Country Joe and the Fish -- Electric Music For The Mind And Body
Cream -- Disraeli Gears
Bob Dylan -- Blood on the Tracks
Jimi Hendrix -- Band of Gypsys
Jimi Hendrix -- Axis: Bold As Love
Talking Heads -- Remain in Light

Photo, of course, from High Fidelity.

On Record Store Day (!!!!)

I'm all kinds of excited for Record Store Day this year. It's not my first, per se, but it's the first one since I got my record player.. which means I plan to take full advantage of some of the releases that I hear are coming out -- Flaming Lips 'Dark Side of the Moon' limited release vinyl, I'm lookin' at you. As if that wasn't enough, I personally enjoy any national holiday -- yup, I said it -- that involves going to record stores all day.

But basic essential details aside, this post from Michele Catalano's True/Slant blog is a pretty good explainer of what makes Record Store Day, and really mid-April, the most wonderful time of the year. Again, that's right. I said most wonderful time of the year. I'll quote from Michele a bit here, but the whole post is worth a read:

Can CDs or digital offer you the artistry of records? Album covers framed and hung on the wall like pictures at an exhibition. Colored vinyl and picture discs turning your music into a work of art. In 1980, I bought True Colors by Split Enz and was endlessly entranced bythe laser etching in the vinyl that made it seem full of colorful prisms. Later, I would work in a record store and spend my entire paycheck each week on seven inch imports, a reminder of my days of collecting 45s. Each record had its own character, a specific memory attached to it – memories that were made of more than just sound. There’s the feel of the record, the sight of it, things so ingrained in the experience of listening to vinyl that just walking into a record store is like opening up a time machine. I’ve never met a CD that made me fall in love with it like a record. I’ll still love the music, but the CD is just a container for that music, where a record is part of the entire music experience. [Emphasis mine.]

That pretty much sums it up. From the beginning, whether it was the first time I went digging through a bunch of stuff in my parents' basement, to buying the turntable or when I found Dylan's 'Blonde on Blonde' or the Beatles' White Album at a favorite store in Minneapolis or Indianapolis, respectively.. It was never the music in and of itself that was the handle. Hell, most all of the albums I buy I've either heard in their entirety before or have heard a number of the songs. But it was everything else that came along with it -- the album art, the aesthetic value of the album, the crackle and hiss when you play it, the searching for a favorite or especially rare album, the culture, the listening with friends -- that what made it more than stopping by Target or Best Buy to pick up a CD. A vinyl record is like a masterfully crafted, round, 7- or 12-inch disc of history that happens to come in an artfully designed case that ALSO happens to contain some great music that ALSO ALSO sounds better than an MP3 or CD ever could. What's not to like?

ALSO: Check out the Record Store Day Twitter feed here, here, here.