That's
right, I dropped a needle onto a record player for the first time
since I can't remember when.
The
trek back in time to the nostalgic era of my youth happened on
Christmas Day.
For
several months, my wife had been talking about getting a turntable so
when I found one on sale, I grabbed it, wrapped it and couldn't wait
for her to open it.
She
was surprised and excited to have a record player of her very own –
again.
In
the far corner of a little-used storage room in the basement sat a
box covered in dust.
Inside
was a stack of vinyl history. Records from the '80s from when we were
young and records were the No. 1 way of listening to tunes, sat
waiting to be rediscovered like King Tuts tomb of rock and roll.
The
funny thing is, with ever-advancing technology providing music
online, on phones and pretty much anywhere else you could think of,
records are making a comeback.
I
was talked to a university student recently who said all of her
friends were into vinyl.
“There
is just something about the sound,” she said. “It is much richer,
fuller, not as perfect as a CD or digital.”
And
she is right. When we played the first record in many years, it did
have a distinct sound that was really captivating, and not just
because that is the sound I grew up with.
I
am sure that is part of it, but the sound of a small needle dragging
its way along a grooved piece of plastic does have a unique vibe to
it.
Of
course, the records we had were 30-plus years old and some were
damaged, causing the needle to jump, but that is just all part of the
experience.
When
a CD skips it is enough to cause me to have a seizure as it repeats
the same fraction of a second over and over and over...
A
record can be similar, bit not as harsh as a CD.
Digital
songs don't skip at all, unless there is a glitch which causes them
to stop and start and stop and start and cause that seizure I was
talking about.
When
a record skipped, you would oh so gently move the needle past the
damaged part so you would not miss too much of the song.
Even
without playing them, those old 33s brought back many memories.
I
pulled out the first record I ever bought – Loverboy - and of
course my second copy of Meatloaf's Bat out of Hell (the first copy
got stepped on and it was, and is, a must-have for my music
collection.)
Supertramp,
Styx, AC/DC of course and a whole pile of classic tunage is now
available for my on-demand listening pleasure.
But
as I flipped through the stack of classics, I stopped cold at a beat
up, scratched, liquid-damaged copy of Frank Zappa's Joe's Garage.
Instantly
I was thinking of my good friend who was claimed by the scourge of
cancer more than three years ago.
We
used to listen to that album all the time and even seeing the album
cover brought pangs of missing my good buddy, my brother since I was
four years old.
My
jubilant trip down memory had hit a speed bump. Memories of a
lifelong friendship raced through my mind. The trouble we got into
and the fun we had while doing it. Discussions about cars, music,
girls and the deep thoughts of life all raced through my conciousness
right up to the day of his passing, stopping the memories in their
tracks.
I
sat, silent and still thinking about his loss, before pushing those
thoughts aside and rejoicing in the friendship I had, rather than
dwell on the cruelty of it being taken away far too soon.
I
know eventually, I will drop the needle of Joe's Garage and be
reunited with my buddy through the magical time travel that only
music can offer.
Copyright 2014 Darren Handschuh
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