Vinyl Fetish
Vinyl exhibitionism is in full swing. Is your dust cover open and your spindle ready? Clothes are optional...
Record jackets beautifully arranged on a wall. Unpackaging ceremonies. Vibrant coloured discs in full focus.
A movie or documentary on vinyl records? No, the standard reels page of a vinyl lover in 2024.
For many young vinyl fans, displaying their records is a hugely important aspect of being a collector. Take, for example, this excerpt from BBC news:
Vinyl fan Lola, 14, loves to browse the vinyl in record shops with her 61-year-old father, former DJ Tony Pratt.
"It's really cool," she says. "I love the covers, displaying them."
Her sister, musician Imogen Bradley, 23, looks out for old school hip-hop on vinyl.
"I just prefer having a physical copy," she says. "It's nice to display your favourite artists on a wall."
Before you think this is a British quirk, let’s remember half of vinyl buyers in the US admitted they don’t own a record player. Social signalling (especially in the case of superfans) seems to be the reason behind this trend.
At least two companies (one from Australia and the other from the US) specialise in vinyl display solutions as their main, or only, line of business.
Simply type “#vinyl” on TikTok or Instagram to see this is a global phenomenon.
What’s with this obsession with displaying your records and, as is often the case, posting the footage on social media?
Showcasing the music we like is not new. Fans have been proudly displaying the names of their favourite bands on clothes as early as the 1940s.
If you are of a certain age, you will remember updating your status on MSN Messenger with your favourite tracks. NoT to MeNtiOn QuOtInG SoNg LyRicS LiKe ThiS on your profile.
Young music fans display their fandom as a way of defining and articulating their identity.
We also live in a world where the food you eat, the things you do, and the places you visit are an obligatory social media story or reel. Some people feel the need to share every single aspect of their lives to boost their image and be seen in a certain way.
However, something else happens when you throw a vinyl record into the equation.
Sure, the desire to make our musical identity known has been turbocharged by a world where broadcasting your life is easier than living it.
But a vinyl record is a powerful symbol in its own right.
In the book Vinyl: The Analogue Record in the Digital Age, Dominik Bartmanski and Ian Woodward explore at length the vinyl revival movement as a cultural phenomenon and analyse its intricacies through a sociological lens.
It’s not an easy read (I would only recommend it if you’re used to long-form academic essays in the fields of sociology and anthropology), but the gist is that vinyl is celebrated not only as the quintessential medium of recorded music, but increasingly as a cultural icon and status symbol of mythical proportions.
This partly explains why vinyl is worshipped by such diverse groups (from ravers through punk fans to jazz historians) and has managed to survive and reinvent itself throughout the decades.
When you display your vinyl, you are letting the world know that you’re not just a casual listener. You take music, and your music, seriously.
They say the older you get the wiser you become. I’m not sure this is always true.
In my case, age has definitely made me less shouty. Less arrogant. Less desperate for attention.
More importantly, I would like to think it’s made me more open.
So, while you won’t see me post a thousand vinyl reels a month, I no longer question whether some of these people own, or care to own, or will ever own a record player.
As a disgraced audiophile, I’d love the focus to be more on the sound than on the image. If some of these “visual collectors” ever want to discover the magic of analogue sound and dive deeper into the whys and the hows, I’ll always be ready to give my two cents.
But I no longer question their motives. For some people, the sound itself is not compelling enough. It may not even be what they are after.
And you know what? That’s okay.
If we focus on sonic qualities only, and we insist and parrot the same message until we’re blue in the face, we all know how we end up, and we certainly don’t want another war.
Let vinyl be what it wants to be in the intimacy of any given set of four walls. Some might be less intimate than others, sure, but by no means less sacred.
If there is room for ravers, introverts, rappers, punk rockers, swifties, jazz historians and electro fans, we can certainly make room for influencers. They play their part in keeping the format alive.
At the end of the day, more choice for all can never be a bad thing.
Thanks for reading/listening. Happy spinning!
and for me, vinyl isn't about the sound at all. I'm not sure there's a difference -- I certainly can't hear it. It's about the emotional connection and the ritual and the reclaiming of music -- not all music, but the important music -- as art of substance and not just disposable digital bytes.
I was born in 1962 and grew up with my parents' modest but much-loved record collection from the 50s and 60s. Records were cherished birthday and Christmas gifts, and I can still conjure the sights, sounds, even smells, from trips to the record store with my mom.
I've never lived in a home without a turntable, no matter how bleak my finances got during low points.
All of which is to say, I've always had a record collection, from Alvin & The Chipmunks Sing The Beatles as a preschooler, to the collector's edition Maria Schneider Orchestra box I got recently. I never "started collecting", I just never stopped. I'm old enough now to see this go from cool to incredibly uncool and back again several times.
Overall this resurgence of interest from the influencer generation has been a net plus for me. Yes, the prices have shot up. I used to be able to come home with an armful of used Dylan and Miles Davis in pristine condition for a buck or two each. Now? Forget it.
The net benefits far outweigh this though. I live in Pasadena, CA, a city of 130,000. There are six - SIX! - vinyl shops in town, and a monthly swap meet where retailers from all over the Western US have tables. And the availability and quality of stereo gear has shot up accordingly. Do you know how hard it was to find turntable belt and stylus replacements in the 90s?
I really like the energy and passion of the influencer generation. This is a fun time to be a record collector.
Like all things, I expect this will ebb once again. When it does, I'm ready for the liquidation sales!