OPINION: Back to the vinyl platters again
Apr. 9—A couple of weeks ago, Carl Farinelli mentioned turntables on Facebook. The ensuing discussion concluded that turntables are back in style, which I already knew. Just ask any 20-something kid, like my nephew Trevor.
One morning in January 2019, I got a text from my son Cole, and it said: "I heard the Captain died." At first, I was confused. Captain Kirk? Some famous military officer whose name escaped me? Not wanting to seem ignorant, I Googled the word "Captain," and realized the deceased was Daryl Dragon, of Captain & Tennille fame. You couldn't be much younger than I am and remember Captain & Tennille, so I asked, "How do you know about that guy?" He replied, "From your LPs." I also assumed you couldn't be much younger than I am and remember LPs, unless you are like my son, whose parents held onto their "record albums" instead of fobbing them off at yard sales. LPs — "long-plays," for the phonographically ignorant — have made a roaring comeback.
My son had always known about our records, but one year when he was home for the summer from OU, he started asking about them. We had a Yamaha turntable, bought on close-out years earlier, but we had no cartridge or stylus. So after some prodding from Cole, my husband ordered these components and installed them on the tone arm. That was a mistake. For several nights, Cole spun the platters with our quad Bose speakers blasting loudly enough to shake the mirror on our bedroom dresser. This happened well into the wee hours, so Chris had to get up several times and yell, "Turn that #@*%! thing down!" The volume would fade quickly, but then would gradually rise again as more favored tunes were scratched out by the needle.
Our son likes rock 'n' roll, but he also likes artists from my parents' generation, and is hoping to inherit my mother's collection, which includes not just LPs and 45s, but several 78s. The numbers denote the speed — RPM, or rotations per minute — at which vinyl records play. What Cole referred to as "LPs" actually spin at 33 RPM and contain anywhere from four to eight song tracks per side. The 45s contain one song per side and were released in anticipation of Top 40 status for one song, and to encourage the purchase of the LP. The song on the "B side" sometimes became popular, too. The 78s are pretty incredible to watch, because they spin so rapidly. There are 16s, too, but I don't think I've ever seen one.
My parents' LPs include material from The New Christy Minstrels, The Kingston Trio, The Platters, and others of the era. Among the 45s are Jerry Lee Lewis, Temptations, Four Tops, and of course, Elvis. Chris' and mine are mostly from the '70s, though we like some stuff from the '80s and '90s. Trevor likes David Bowie, Pink Floyd (my husband's favorite) and AC/DC (one of my son's favorites), but he's also into Smashing Pumpkins and Trent Reznor, with or without Nine Inch Nails.
When we bought the stylus, Cole also broke into my box of 45s. In there he found singles from The Eagles, Paul McCartney and Wings, George Harrison, ABBA and other popish groups from the mid-1970s. There were moments of embarrassment, like when he dug out "Seasons in the Sun" by Terry Jacks: "What is this sappy sh*t?" I used the excuse that I was 14 when I bought it, and my tastes quickly evolved.
My first two albums were co-purchased with Lisa, and they were by Tony Orlando and Dawn, and Captain & Tennille. When I went to OU, Lisa and I had to split up our co-owned possessions, and I wound up with C&T, and she got TOAD. That acronym is ironic, since so many later friends made fun of it — especially the unfortunately named tune "Candida," which insists that "we can make it together!" When I was 15, I made better decisions. Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd are my husband's two favorite groups, and I didn't much care for them until after we married and I got more exposure to their material that wasn't Top 40 fluff. Therefore, he was surprised when I told him the first album I bought myself was Bachman Turner Overdrive's "Not Fragile" — one of the platters Cole employed to nearly destroy my bedroom mirror.
Most of our albums are scratched, and a few are warped, but in general, they sound pretty good. I have a few first editions, and have discovered secret coding on end track bands. One Eagles album has "Never let your monster lie down" etched into it, and another, "He who hesitates is lunch." It doesn't take much imagination to guess what those pithy phrases suggest, but it's a lot more interesting than the quip, "I buried Paul," by John Lennon on "Strawberry Fields Forever," later revealed to be merely "cranberry sauce."
Over the past few years, I've noticed eBay listings of older LPs with fairly hefty price tags, so I check the worth of my modest collection periodically. But the used platters are not something my nephew is interested in. He looks for "first pressings," especially if they are rare. When my sister told me he might pay as much as $200 for one of these, I almost urped. All I could think about was that money would have bought a one-way ticket to Orlando to listen to them myself, then lie on the beach.
But then, some people like "things" better than "experiences." Kind of makes me want to drive to Tulsa and visit Starship Records and Tapes. It's possible it still smells like marijuana in there. The medical variety, of course.
