The Crow's Nest

Opinion

Sitting next to my sister in her seafoam green room, my eyes were wide on the device before me. It was spinning a disk the size of a dinner plate in a mesmerizing circle, and somehow, it was making music.

What my sister and I had discovered that day was my mother’s old record player. Something about it felt ancient and wise, much more mature than our tiny, teenaged iPods.

I rushed in with Heart and James Taylor records from my room, albums I had bought solely for their cool covers. We spun them all, listening to the soul of Stevie Wonder and the magical “he-he’s” of Michael Jackson. “A full, reverberating sound rolled off the record player and filled the room. It was enchanting.”

Not long after that began our obsession with physical music.

Though I had some stray CDs lying around from my pre-mp3 days, I relied almost entirely on downloading as my principal form of obtaining music. Yet something told me I was going about it all wrong.

I had gotten into a habit of downloading only singles on iTunes. It was useful for purchasing songs I couldn’t find in stores, but it detracted from what the musician intended for me to experience — an album in its entirety.

Bands carefully craft their records, putting their heart and soul and maybe even a few minor chord progressions into their work, and I was stripping it of context for the sake of a single song.

After starting college at USF St. Petersburg last year, I became aware of the downtown music stores that sold a myriad of CDs as well as vinyl records. Not only was there vintage vinyl, but current artists releasing new music in the old-school format. I was intrigued.

This different medium of music also opened my eyes to artists that loved the craft before I was born, people who I never would have heard of if it wasn’t for the well-worn vinyl LPs I found in the back of an antique store one afternoon.

By buying these full albums, I felt like I was supporting the singer. I experienced the entire piece of art, and not just a corner of the canvas. It was fun to spin an album all the way through, from track one to track 12, some records even implementing 30-second songs or instrumental interludes into the mix.

These were personal touches I would have missed had I downloaded only my favorite song. There is also an artistry to the lyric book and album art that accompany physical music.

That said, I believe every format has its time and place; its own aesthetic. Digital music is perfect for when you want an earbud full of tunes to study with, whereas a scratchy vinyl record is great for a rainy day. But no matter how music listening changes, physical formats will always have a special place in my heart.