“Call me romantic, call me poisoned by one too many viewings of Almost Famous, but for me, the act of listening to a vinyl record—the ritual itself—choosing the record, undressing it—it’s calming.”
“It’s the equivalent of enjoying a great novel. The cover and sleeve may be crisp and sleek, or tattered and hanging by threads of broken cardboard, paper and memories. They have their own kind of wonderful, unique scent to them. If the scent is strong enough, you can probably taste it too. Your eyes lock onto the artwork, inviting you into its world. The grooves can get you—the sight of the needle gracefully running against the grooves until its reached its final destination—the sight of the record itself simply revolving. They all have hypnotic qualities.
Personally, I think there’s a special relationship between listener and vinyl record, just as there is between audience and performer. You can feel the warmth and spirit, just as you could experiencing the music live. It’s very personal, intimate, direct. The turntable is this tiny revolving stage upon which someone or some group gets to tell their story. I think that there’s something in the sound and production—whether the album be new or old—that transports you to this dimension where music is at its purest. It doesn’t belong to any one age or time period. There’s something in a vinyl, a record that transcends time.
I believe that music itself – when created and performed has the power to create God. And whether you’re by yourself in your room or with your friends, the ritual, the experience can be like going to church. It’s visually, aurally and spiritually engaging. The space occupied by the warmth and hiss of a vinyl, right from the first sound of the needle dropping, creates this kind of bubble—a closed off sanctuary where you can absorb sounds, stories and emotions and come to your own conclusions and realizations.
In this digital age, where technology has condensed everything down to suit a youthful, fast-paced, on-the-go culture, vinyl has become our most respected elders. They’re here for those who want to take the time to sit down, listen and learn. They’re teachers. Sages. Medicine men. Shamans. You can humble yourself to a stack of records like it’s Buddha sitting in lotus. You feel as if it’s ready to unleash the wisdom of the universe, the harsh and soothing secrets of the ages upon you.
In a time where you can transport any CD on to any computer or device, those CDs can easily be trashed, discarded, and forgotten. Neglected. Abandoned. A lot of us these days take for granted the complete libraries of music and literature that we’ve easily locked in our grasp, at the sweep of a thumb or click of a mouse. They’re merely files in a computer chip. They have no feel, no smell, hardly a look to them at all.
There is something undeniable about vinyl. You get to create your own unique and personal listening experience every time. Your own personal ritual. Your own religious experience.”
—Alex Salcido, Banjo/Vocals
