“Growing up, I remember my parents playing a lot of swing, jazz, and The Beatles on vinyl, and most distinctly, how very loud it was. Often, when they were cleaning, they’d turned up the music so much you could hardly even hear the vacuum cleaner.”
“I have an early memory of my brother and I breaking my dad’s very expensive turntable pickup. We were playing with it, putting our small toy cars on the turntable and watching them go round and round. He was very angry at us and moved the turntable so we couldn’t reach it.
I can’t remember exactly when I started playing vinyl myself or what my first record was, but I know it was during my teenage years in high school, shortly after I had moved out of my parents’ home. My friends and I were total music nerds; we had to have the “right” hi-fi system and the “right” record player. Most of my savings went toward the equipment. I started listening mostly to hip-hop, soul, and new soul like Marvin Gaye, D’angelo, Eryka Badu, A Tribe Called Quest, Blackalicious, Common, The Pharcyde, and The Beastie Boys.
I have always loved the way it feels to hold vinyl and the ritual behind listening to it. The largeness of the format somehow just makes the music feel more real to me. Just as the musicians spent time and effort making the music, you do the same when you unpack the record, look at the artwork, read the credit list/lyrics, place it on the turntable and lower the needle. Then you hear that glorious hiss and know what you have been waiting and working for has arrived.
Recently, I inherited my friend’s vinyl collection when he moved to Africa. He had bought a lot of records in the ’80s and ’90s; David Bowie, Lou Reed, Bauhaus, a huge collection of Madchester, and all these bands from England that I had never even heard of. I’m still listening my way through the collection, and what a lovely journey into my friend’s mind it has been.”
—Morten Køie
