Audiophile

[Originally Posted on Google+ on 07 August 2012]

I've rediscovered my love of music.  No, seriously.

A few months ago, I remember reading articles about Neil Young where he was...well, quite vitriolic about digital sound.  "Sounds like crap," he said, only I'm paraphrasing because I remember him being much more emphatic on the subject.  I put it aside, thinking it was one of those "grumpy old man" moments.  I mean, like everyone else I listen to my iPod, practically every day, and I am satisfied for the most part.  Knowing what I know about computers, compression, etc., I figured it was one of those cases where Neil and others had a bone to pick with digital where there was no discernible difference.

A few weeks ago, Rachel talked me into buying a Gabor Szabo album on vinyl.  I figured it was probably one of those out of print albums, probably never made it to CD, the last of a dying breed--and the track list was great.  I (quite literally) dusted off the turntable and put it on.  Holy crap!  Music was supposed to sound LIKE THIS.  Something clicked into my brain, like a long lost friend.  Gabor Szabo was there, playing guitar, right inside the room with me.  I'm not exaggerating.

The next thing I know, I'm thinking of all the albums I listen to a zillion times, the ones that I could listen to over and again without getting bored--these are albums that I really should be listening to on vinyl.  Not only that, but ACTIVE LISTENING, which is a skill I've only forgotten because of today's digital ADD (pun intended if you actually get it).

Kelly was very supportive of this project.  At The Beat in Sacramento, we ended up purchasing a number of albums that were on my "Vinyl Top 10."  We decided it would be an awesome idea to have a picnic, just the two of us, in the basement and simply...listen to records, the way people ought to.

Tonight's vinyl was "Infinite Arms" by Band of Horses.  The picnic food was rotisserie chicken, a yummy caprese salad, and red wine.  I felt like the entire experience was something holy.

At first, I was almost a little disappointed as I remember Creighton Barret's drums on "Factory" pounding like thunder in the digital version--the hook that sucked me right into the album.  Then, once the singing began, I realized how much more audible the lyrics were.  Those thunderous drums were now placed right where they should be--in the background, behind the singer, physically as well as metaphorically.  I don't think I had ever really heard all the lyrics before, not only that, but the singer's intake of breath, the interplay between the two guitar players, the bass player's fingers on the fret board.  What I had considered momentarily "lost" in the drummer's work on "Factory" was made more than whole by his work on "NW Apt.", a track I had considered mediocre before in digital-land.

Best of all, I felt like I was falling in love with Kelly, and music, all over again.