“I was raised on vinyl. My dad played all kinds of classical and jazz records and my mom had these Tajuana Brass albums that we’d dance to. One of my earliest memories is of learning how to put the needle onto the record ever-so-gently and watching it spin. And the sound…like a warm fuzzy blanket…hiss and pops and then the confessional. It was the best way to pass the time during those cold Canadian winters.”
“When I was 13 I got a record player of my own. By then I was all about Joni Mitchell’s Blue (girl angst personified) and early Dylan, JT, Neil Young, Laura Nyro, Crosby Stills & Nash…all the hippie stuff. I was a little late to the party. These records had come out some years before, but to me every song was my story.
On weekend nights if I wasn’t gigging with my band I was hanging at my friend Kim’s house where there was always a party. To a accommodate the mixed gender crowd we listened to records with a tad more testosterone—Zeppelin, The Stones, Pink Floyd, Bowie, Cream, Bob Marley, Joe Jackson—we’d play cards, kiss boys, drink Canadian beer, and spin records late into the night.
Back then I memorized every name of every musician, singer, and producer on those album jackets. And years later, when I was 18 and living in NYC, I was lucky enough to work with many of those same people whose names I already knew. For instance, there I was singing back up for Joe Jackson on his Big World record and when it was released on vinyl and I saw my name on the jacket it was truly surreal.
When I moved to NYC I left my record player behind in Canada. Not enough room in the one suitcase I brought with me. Everyone was into cassettes by then anyway…and then CDs…iPods. But it all sounded too clean to me. Too perfect. So, a few years ago I got another record player, set it up in my dining room, and popped on Laura Nyro’s New York Tendaberry and heard the familiar static before those first piano notes.
And sweet jesus, I was home.”
—Nikki Gregoroff
“Canada” is taken from Nikki Gregoroff’s forthcoming release, Spark & Glimmer.
