Records on a shelf

My Vinyl Manifesto

I started buying records before I bought a turntable. I wasn’t sure if I was going to get a turntable, to be honest. Maybe vinyl would just be a way to own something that meant something, even if I wasn’t listening to it. Hell, I own more books than I’ll ever hope to read, but having them there means something to me. 

They also say something about me. Hopefully, they give some insight as to who I am. The longer I’ve been collecting vinyl, the more I’ve been thinking about it as a way to explain myself to my son. 

Music has been one of the biggest creative influences in my life, but if I kicked it next week, my kid wouldn’t have anything to know what I was really interested in or why. We’ve shoved all the old CDs in binders upstairs, and they give you something, but most of them were purchased before 2010. 

“I guess dad was really into KMFDM for his entire life,” my son would think. Which is true, to an extent, but not completely. Vinyl lets me refocus on the things that are going to be meaningful in explaining myself. Or that might just be an excuse for buying things, but here we are.

It’s also a chance for me to buy things in support of the bands I currently enjoy. I’ll buy that Elbow or Tennis or Tennis Elbow album when it comes out, not knowing if it’s going to be my favorite or just one that sits on the shelf. That’s okay though.

Most of my daily music is pumped into my brain through a Spotify branded tube. The bands I like get about $0.00004 each time I listen to their songs, so buying some vinyl seems like a nice way to help reward the singers and musicians I love.

That said, last year I clocked about 76,000 minutes on Spotify (three-and-a-half hours a day, give or take), so maybe I’m helping pay someone’s bills.

I can’t remember what we were talking about.

Owning albums. My buying albums should, therefore, be a little more focused. I don’t want to just recreate that folder of CDs, I want to tailor something. I’ve got a watchlist of LPs on Discogs that represents my wishlist. A single album from a favorite band here and there, but not an entire discography.

With the exception of Elbow – I’d be not uninterested in owning a version of every piece of vinyl Elbow ever produced. That’s a poorly constructed sentence.

From Elbow’s Instagram. I don’t own this – yet.

So the list is tight, which makes shopping in record stores fun. There are going to be occasional impulse purchases (REM’s Tongue single), but I’d rather pass over the stuff that doesn’t really excite me. That means seeing a whole bunch of excellent music and just getting to leave it all behind.

There aren’t rules for buying or owning albums. I’ve got some guidelines, but they’re rough at best. Here goes.

  • Is a previously released album I can’t imagine not listening to (Something More Than Free, Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not, etc.).
  • Is, preferably, a limited release, remastered version or first pressing. I come from a book collecting background, so I like a little bit of rarity.
  • Is new and from a band I love (Islands, Sound & Fury, etc.).
  • Has a cool b-side. I don’t own any of these yet. I’ve got a handful of singles, but they currently tick other boxes.
  • Is from Elbow.

There it is. The rough outline of why I would buy an album. Exceptions will be made, but only to prove the rule. Or because it looks like a cool thing to have on the shelf. Or because I briefly think owning Sports would be fun, even though I’m not really going to listen to that, am I?

Maybe I’ll go to Record Store Day (a thing I don’t fully understand) and wind up with two dozen new albums. Maybe I’ll get distracted by an interesting bug in the yard and not buy another album for a year. 

If I do buy, I’ve got a plan.

This wasn’t a manifesto, I don’t think. At least, not interesting ways. I mean, we covered the goal (get good stuff) and how I’m trying to do it (buying things), so maybe it does count.