“As children our minds are so pure. Anything we learn usually ends up being “the way things should be” right into adulthood. I learned the way things should be from my mom’s CEC turntable and Fleetwood Mac. However there comes a point when the changing world will cause us to question everything.”
“In my case, the questions started when CDs got popular. At first I didn’t notice the questions because I was finally old enough to buy music. The old bands were still revolutionary and the new stuff was so damn good, I just couldn’t get enough. I devoured everything and it only got worse when I figured out how to download music.
One day however, I realized I had all but stopped listening to music. The thought of turning on my stereo didn’t excite me at all. How could this be?! I went through all the possibilities. It must be that I’m sick of my 5,000 songs and there’s nothing but horrible new music out these days. So, I downloaded 3,000 more songs by slightly more obscure artists, and things got worse. I thought, “Maybe it’s my stereo? I’ll buy an amazing stereo so I can have that same feeling I remember from listening as a kid.” But nothing changed and now I had an absurdly large digital music collection and was listening to it through a hi-fi system that was worth more than my car.
If I look back to that time in my life it’s safe to say I actually gave up on music. Sure, I still listened to my favorites and found some new ones, but the spirit was gone for a while. Then one Christmas my sister bought me the best gift I’ve ever got. A standalone turntable with speakers built-in. At first I was confused, as one might be of this retro box. It was a total left-field gift. I didn’t own a single record. But that very same box was the spark that would light the blackness that had driven music from my life.
I took a trip to the basement of my mom’s house. There I found the very same vinyl discs that taught me “the way things should be” when I was a kid. I brought them home and took Rumours out of the jacket. I was seconds away from solving the puzzle and had no damn clue. I dropped the needle and at once it all made sense. A million questions were answered simultaneously. The connection to the music was back instantly. Songs I had heard a million times transformed from a collection of notes into stories filled with color. It was like coming home. It was the way things should be.
As I write this, Songza is playing “Amnesty Please” by Norma Jean on The Screamo Society playlist. I don’t know anything about screamo and I’ve never heard of the band, but the track is fantastic and I likely never would have found it in a vinyl only world. Streaming services like Songza are a blessing these days when nobody risks much on the radio. The discovery process is as gratifying as the hunt that ensues thereafter.
Having said that, I’m eternally grateful that my hunt has now shifted from shuffling zeroes and ones through cyberspace to salivating over the out-of-print vinyl I miraculously stumble upon in a vintage stereo shop. Sure, analog tastes a little gamey, but the spirit of the music flows through every nerve the way it was meant to.
My own band’s album drops next month on CD and online. I’m making damn sure there’s a 180 gram pressing right on its heels.”
—Mike Chetcuti, Vocals/Guitar
