My boy’s new love for LPs is music to my ears
My 16-year-old techie whizzkid has just bought himself a turntable. I described it as an “LP player” but he corrected me with a tut of irritation. What do I know, eh? I just grew up with the things.
Lockdown has pushed him on a journey of musical discovery, largely because he’s run out of other things to do and finished watching the box sets of Peaky Blinders, Atlanta and Breaking Bad.
Was there really music beforere Kanye West decided to run for president?ent?
Can it be true that an album was once a physical thing, not just a there-today-deletedtomorrow download? Were LPs really caressed, cherished and taken out on dates so theyy could be used to impress a potential boyfriend/girlfriend??
Did LPs really come with lyrics sheets so you could memorise the words to every single track? How else would I know all the words to U2’s Rattle and Hum album?
Turns out my boy had never held a vinyl record, never knownwn the joy of inspecting a pristine album, freshly slid from its cover,r, static electricity making dust particles cling to it.
He’d never devoured the sleeve text, right down to the “thanks and acknowledgements” section in case you happened to be mentioned as No1 fan (Paul Young never included me on No Parlez. Broke my heart).
This is the boy who controls the lights/ TV/Xbox and all manner of other gadgets with digital friend Alexa who sits on his desk and responds calmly to his every whim, like a 1950s secretaryy in one of those daft office romcoms.coms.
The personal playlistst of his favourite tracks, storeded on his mobile phone, is moree than 48 hours long. He plays itt everywhere he goes, listening via cordless earphones. Sometimeses he secretly connects it byy Bluetooth to my car soo a rapper called Kid Cudi blurts out expletives when I’m enjoying Penny
Lover by Lionel
Richie on Smooth Radio. However, my son’s become convinced that “vintage-style” turntables produce a more authentic “listening experience” than the recordings delivered by digital reproduction.
He’s also bought himself a special album display case for his room so he can fully appreciate the artwork. This is the zeitgeist, folks, and, for once, those of us of an older generation are already with it. Sales of vinyl albums have been soaring. Some 4.3 million LPs were sold in the UK last year, accounting for one in eight albums sold in any format.for All the biggest artists release vinyl versions.
DuDuring lockdown, Twitter LisListening Parties have taken offoff, with followers all over the wworld playing the same album (in its entirety) at the same time ththen sharing their thoughts. OnOnline vinyl sales have been keekeeping record stores afloat.
BuBut in our house the renaissance hahas been more important than ththat. The auld maw doesn’t lolook like such a relic after all. I’vI’ve been able to impress him wwith my knowledge on how to opoperate the arm, clean fluff from the nneedle and adjust the speed. The first album we played was mine – ElvElvis Costello’s brilliant Spike from 1989, with its anti-Thatcher vitriol. It was retrieved from a box of memories gathering dust under the stairs, along with other classics such as Fairground Attraction’s The First of a Million Kisses and Texas’ Southside. When I bought them, I was much the same age as he is now. Some belonged to my parents – Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline, The Everly Brothers’ Greatest Hits and The Sydney Devine Collection (definitelyy myy dad’s). And they brought on a bout of misty-m eyednostalgia,eyednostalgia, a sense of timetim going too fast and things being left behind. So my boy and I are bondingbond over a mutual affection for the LP. I’m teaching him that they’re easily damaged and usually imperfect but the ones you love enhance youryo life forever. And I hope he knowknows I’m not just talking about the albums.