So Why Vinyl, Then?
Courtroom techniques you can use next time your vinyl passion comes into question
Happy Sunday, vinyl lovers! A very special welcome to those of you who joined over the last few days.
For the full experience, hit the play button above. Expect suspense, cliff-hangers, and the sassiest remarks from this side of the pond.
Enjoy!
Unless you’ve been living under a rock, it should come as no surprise that you can access entire music libraries at the click of a button for a relatively modest monthly fee.
And yet here we are: like staunch warriors, still buying vinyl records in 2025.
This can be puzzling to some. I’m sure at least once in your life, at a party or other social event, you must have found yourself on the receiving end of this seemingly innocent, yet inadvertently profound and borderline existential question:
So why vinyl, then?
Notice how the core question is sandwiched between so and then, two very common signals that your interlocutor is trying to masquerade their defiance or impatience as curiosity.
So [if music is so widely available as we know it is], why [spend so much time and money on something so seemingly irrelevant such as] vinyl, then? [unless there is there something I’m missing, in which case please enlighten me].
I trained as a legal linguist, so please excuse the digression, but it’s relevant.
These two words are your first tell-tale sign that your interrogator is dressing their wolf in sheep’s clothing. The success of the charade will depend on a multitude of other verbal and non-verbal factors which we won’t get into today.
All this to illustrate in basic terms that it’s not so much about the actual words you use, but how you take them out to play.
Back to our question, it would be foolish to assume a wolf can’t be genuinely curious, or that there isn’t a vinyl case for us to answer at all seeing as we sometimes spend, on just one record, double the amount of a monthly Spotify subscription.
How dare you compare an impersonal and exploitative streaming platform with the wonders of vinyl?
I know. But we cannot avoid questions just because they are inconvenient or slightly irritating.
As you can imagine, there isn’t a straightforward, one-size-fits-all answer, and not just because our experience and peculiarities as individual collectors are intrinsically subjective. The crux of the matter is that no answer is guaranteed to work in the same way with every interrogator at all times.
Let’s brainstorm a couple of options so you can smash your performance next time you find yourself in the witness box.
Better sound quality
Be ready to answer follow-up questions such as why, how come, are you sure, can you prove it and, if the interrogator is smart, doesn’t it depend on how the record was mastered. Ouch. They pulled no punches there.
In other words, be prepared to answer technical questions, particularly challenging if your interrogator feels they’ve got something to prove and/or if you’ve had a glass too many.
A deeper connection with the artist
The romantic approach. They can’t really question your heart, can they? Not easily, at least. The problem with this answer is that it tends to work best with those who understand (or can at least empathise with) notions of art and creative expression, which is not always the case with interrogators.
Get ready to go on a deep, reflective, almost psychedelic journey, with lots of tangents and rabbit holes. You need to be well versed in abstract thought. Proceed at your own peril and make sure you can somewhat trust your interlocutor (or have an exit strategy).
I want to directly support the musicians
Hard to argue with, except if you also buy second-hand, in which case I would suggest you add “and (independent) stores and sellers”. Your interrogator is unlikely to think that far (they may not even know what second-hand is), but one thing I’ve learned working in the legal industry is make damn sure the witness is prepared (also known as don’t fuck this up).
I wrote “independent” between brackets as an option because your interlocutor may or may not have spotted you outside HMV/Barnes & Noble with a bunch of goodies. (If your interrogator is ballsy, they may even play the Rough Trade card). In any case, do your own risk assessment and decide. You’ve been forewarned.
The joy of ownership
Taking the stakes higher, are you? I couldn’t have trained you better, but make sure you have a compelling strategy to see you through to the end, because your interrogator’s next move will almost certainly be to question you on the liability aspect that inevitably comes with owning assets.
Politically, you can go left, right or centre, depending on your views and how feisty you are feeling that day. From tech-bro phobia, to Adam Smith, to treaties on state surveillance, you’ve got plenty of room to play here.
Tired of discussing politics? Go philosophical. Do we really own what we cannot see? What did Locke say?
I like things that rotate — I also collect frisbees
Your wild card if you’re feeling explosive. I don’t need to warn you it’s a hell of a pandora’s box, but worth the shot in the right circumstances. Be ready to make a friend for life, put out a fire, or deal with wounded egos. Remember what I said about words and masquerading intentions? It works both ways.
Hopefully, at least one of these options will suit your needs. And since I’m feeling extra generous today, I’ll share one more tip with you.
This is one of my old tricks, very effective if you want the conversation to end because, for example, you were about to step out for a cheeky smoke, help yourself to another drink or talk to someone else.
Why vinyl, you ask? Well… it’s an experience
Ha! You can be sure they were not expecting this. Feel free to remove the rhetorical question, but make sure you include the introductory “well” with the pause before revealing the answer, for that extra layer of mysticism.
Don’t hold me to it, but this is as close as we can get to a one-size-fits-all answer. Your interrogator can’t really argue if they haven’t experienced it themselves. And if they did actually experience it, they would probably have asked a different question to begin with.
In other words, you’re pretty safe.
This, my friends, is what I call spectacularly moving the goalposts. Make them believe the experience element is an essential condition to the understanding of it all.
(Bit fallacious if you dissect the argument, okay, fair — but did you want that cheeky smoke, yes or no? Thought so).
If your interrogator doesn’t give up, your next line, regardless of their follow-up question, is:
“Try it and you’ll see”, with a serious face, and then immediately smile, before you look away.
The beautiful thing about calling it an experience is that it can mean a myriad of different things to different people. Sex is an experience. So is shitting, or going for an X-ray.
You’re not lying (remember you’re under oath) but you are not revealing much either. You are saying everything and nothing at the same time.
It’s a superficially concrete answer masqueraded as something deep. See what I did there?
The best answer when you feel under attack in the witness box is one that never incriminates you, directly addresses the question, but evades further scrutiny.
Works a treat in the courtroom… and with idiots at dinner parties.
Thanks for reading/listening. Happy spinning!
Why vinyl?
I am of the age where records are all I know. Cassettes played a part when, as a kid, I got a boombox, and when I had a tape deck in my car or made mixtapes for girlfriends. But, the sound quality on tapes always seemed inferior, and the ease with which they could get damaged or the tape twisted, pulled, etc., irritated me. CDs were introduced when I was a teen and I was hesitant to transition, but eventually did, mainly because of space. I lived in student accommodation and small flats and already had a ton of records taking up space. CDs were perfect at that time.
But I always preferred records. I love the size of an LP, the liner notes, the routine of listening to the A & B sides, and the conceptual thought that went into not only the tracklisting, but each side of the record. And, of course, I firmly believe that by and large, records sound better! In previous posts, you and I have established that a clean record played on a nice system with a great cartridge & stylus is unbeatable (and essential to one's enjoyment!). The stylus I have is also very forgiving, and on a clean, used VG/VG+ record, I rarely hear any surface noise from visible marks.
Lastly, music filling the space makes me happy. Even if I buy a digital-only download off Bandcamp, I always move the WAV file into iTunes as a playlist, burn it to a CD, and enjoy it on my stereo so the sound can fill the space. No portable Bluetooth speaker or headphones can replace that part of the listening process for me. Thus why records are also my preferred media.
One of my arguments were I ever to find myself in this situation would be that when I stay up late to listen to Close to the Edge on vinyl on a Friday night no one knows I’m listening to it but me. Not my wife, not my kids, not Daniel Ek. No one but me. The next day I won’t see ads related to it, I won’t see recommendations for Emerson, Lake & Palmer, I won’t see ‘Roundabout’ leading off my Favourites Mix. Nothing. The experience will only exist in my memory.