I did something the other day I had not
done in many years: I dropped the needle.
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 when I bought the Missus a record player for
a gift.
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 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, but 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 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.)
Def Lepard, Styx, AC/DC (of course) and
a whole pile of classic tuneage 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
(beer)-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 five years
ago.
We used to listen to that record 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 filled my consciousness 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 on Joe's Garage and be reunited with my buddy through the
magical time travel that only music can provide.
Eventually, but just not today.
Copyright 2016, Darren Handschuh
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