As far as music goes, I have some vinyl thoughts on the matter
Funny how things go full circle. A few weekends ago, my regular Saturday afternoon wander took me into my favourite downtown record store.
Not so long ago, I wondered when Fred's Records was going to change its name to Fred's Music, or something else that would cover the amazing choice of ways we now have to consume music.
But then I bumped into a friend of one of my daughters and realized why Fred's won't be calling in the sign painters. Chris had an armful of vinyl under his arm.
Turns out Chris buys nothing else, and he's not alone in his generation. Vinyl is on the upswing. According to a recent Wall Street Journal story, eight million vinyl records were sold last year in the United States — an increase of nearly 50 per cent over the previous year.
Ah, vinyl!
I cannot play an instrument. In fact, I cannot carry a tune to save my life. But I love music in all its permutations.
And I grew up on vinyl. My earliest memory of music was a shopping trip with my mother to a record shop in Mombasa, Kenya. It was the mid-Sixties and the Supremes were big. For weeks, Baby Love was the soundtrack of our household.
Don Draper would have been right at home
In the late Sixties and early Seventies, my folks would host the typical Seventies-type parties: lots of smoking, lots of scotch and lots of Sinatra, Johnny Mathis and Dionne Warwick. My Way, Do You Know the Way to San Jose.
Don Draper would have been right at home. As corny as that stuff seemed at the time, many of those records somehow made it into my music collection.
My first records were K-Tel records. My first was Fantastic. You couldn't download tunes back then, so K-Tel did it for you. For four or five bucks,you'd get an album full of eclectic AM-radio hits like Spiders and Snakes by Jim Stafford , Hocus Pocus by Focus, or Smoking in the Boys Room by Brownsville Station.
My first non K-Tel record was a Gladys Knight and the Pips platter that featured Midnight Train to Georgia. My parents gave it to me for my 13th birthday. I graduated to Earth Wind and Fire and Kool and the Gang.
Do you remember Hollywood Swinging? Yes, I admit it. I was I was a 14-year-old soul man!
My tastes got a little heavier. I remember buying Deep Purple's Made In Japan and wobbling home from the record store on my 10-speed in heavy traffic with the album clutched under my arm.
A few years later, as a college DJ, I previewed the opening bars of Smoke on the Water at least 10 consecutive times for my own amusement before the phone started to ring off the hook in the booth.
Seems I'd hit the wrong button, and everyone in all the student offices and the student lounge had been treated to my Purple obsession.
In my neighbourhood, everyone bought records. We used to roam from house to house, listening to each other's music.
Volume turned up to 11
Vince had the best stereo system. Speakers right out of This is Spinal Tap. Volume that could alter the rhythm of your heart. The tunes would blare from across the street. Zeppelin, Bad Company, Lynyrd Skynrd.
Robbie lived three doors down; he was an Elton John, Beach Boys and Beatles kind of guy.
Anthony lived next door. He was older and way cooler than we were. Shall we say Anthony had just a bit more psychedelic street cred.
An invite to his house was a big deal. Whole afternoons would evaporate as we listened to album after album and sampled the freaky delights of Hendrix, Uriah Heep, Yes and Pink Floyd.
Oh yes! There was air guitar. We were Wayne's World before Wayne's World.
We all grew up and moved on. Adulthood, children and the inevitable 10-year phase when Barney the dinosaur and Fred Penner seemed to own the stereo.
My daughters, though, grew up, and I came back to music. I played cassettes, then CDs, then iTunes.
The 54-year-old me is still 16 at heart. I still spend too much money on music. Still spend too much time at Fred's.
And somewhere in my basement I still have a turntable and about 400 good old-fashioned vinyl records.
Just in case.
