In our modern era characterized by ten-second download times, microscopic MP3 players, and casually thrown-together workout mixes, it’s hard to think of a time where the act of buying and listening to music was one that required patience. Though the history of those who make music has, at its best, been one of people striving to find new and inventive ways to create art, the history of those who listen to music has a very clear, drawn-in-the-sand before and after period: the days of analog music and the days of digital music.
In essence, the way that people listen to music has changed in the last 30 years, and I’m willing to bet the way they think about music has changed, too. Though I’m surely painting a picture of myself as an incurably urban, too-hip-to-function elitist, I can’t help but prefer the subtle hiss of a vinyl record. I’m an analog man in a digital world, and proud of it.
I’ll concede that the digital era offers us an opportunity to listen to more music than ever before: with the click of a button and enough searching, I can find just about anything I’m even the least bit interested in hearing. Music nowadays is more convenient and portable, often with no tangible aspects. Arguably, there are more music collectors today than there were 30 years ago. After all, meticulously categorizing and labeling an iTunes collection is a lot easier than building a record collection. Believe me, I’ve been there.
There’s an elusive quality that we’ve lost with the forcible takeover of the digital format: music may be easier to acquire and easier to listen to than it was in the past, but it’s also harder to connect to. I find I have trouble connecting emotionally with a file on a computer, but the feeling of holding a record in my hands — the artwork, the fragility of the disc, the tactile experience of handling the music I’m about to listen to — is something that my iTunes library just can’t live up to.
The decline in analog popularity has also changed the way that people connect through music. Young people don’t trade records or painstakingly record mix tapes on cassettes one track at a time anymore; they download albums from people they’ve never met and drag files into columns and categories. Online stores have eclipsed record stores in sales and popularity, and the majority of music discussion takes place on the internet.
But isn’t there something magical in the timing and concentration required to record songs off an album, all in a specific order, to make the perfect mix tape? In putting on a record at a dinner party, and turning it over after 25 minutes? In placing that needle gently on the grooves of your record and just watching it spin?
Of course, there was a time where listening to music was only possible when it was being played in front of you. Until the invention of the phonograph, credited to Thomas Edison — although, as per usual with Edison, this is widely debated — music was either something written on a page that you’d play for yourself, or something that someone would play for you.
David Byrne, formerly the lead singer and guitarist of Talking Heads, sums up this concept perfectly in an article he wrote for Wired magazine: “In the past, music was something you heard and experienced — it was as much a social event as a purely musical one.” With the invention of the phonograph, music became a commodity: it could be bought and sold, preserved and shared in a way that had been impossible before.
Music had actually been recorded before the phonograph: The phonoautograph, invented by Edouard-Leon Scott de Martinville, was able to record sounds by tracing lines on smoke-blackened paper with a vibrating stylus. But unlike the phonoautograph, the phonograph was able to play back the sounds it recorded. A large cone known as a diaphragm would amplify a sound, and a small metal needle would vibrate in the same way as the sound. The groove that it etched into a tinfoil cylinder would be able to be replayed through the diaphragm, recreating the music that the needle had recorded.
The phonograph was considered state-of-the-art when it was released in 1878, but it had its share of problems. Its fidelity, which is essentially a fancy term for the quality of its sound reproduction, was very low. The tinfoil records it created would eventually fade from repeated playings, and its recordings couldn’t be edited. Emile Berliner’s gramophone, released ten years after the phonograph, replaced Edison’s tinfoil cylinders with gramophone records — an early predecessor of vinyl records — which could be more easily stored and played on both sides.
Early records were made of wax instead of vinyl, and were played much faster. By 1925, 78 RPM was the industry standard, more than twice as fast as the 33 1⁄ 3 RPM records released today. Fidelity also improved in the twenties: whereas sound had up until that point been recorded acoustically — louder instruments were recorded from further away, whereas quieter ones were recorded in close-up — the invention of “electrical” recording introduced microphones, which gave artists greater opportunity to experiment with volume and sound quality.
Since 78 RPM records could only play a few minutes of music at a time, they were often sold together in bound collections referred to as “albums.” The name stuck, and modern records are often referred to as albums by artists and listeners. By 1950, records began to be released as plastic vinyl discs. These could be played at slower speeds, since it was possible to make smaller grooves, known as microgrooves, in the material.
The 12 inch 33 1 ⁄ 3 records became known as LPs, or Long Plays, due to the amount of music that could be stored on a single side (about 25 minutes). Since then, vinyl records have been the industry standard. Until the 1970s, when the sound quality of the cassette tape became comparable to that of the LP, records were the most popular format for music.
It wasn’t until 1983 that vinyl saw a significant dip in popularity. The Compact Disc, or CD, was smaller, able to store more music, less expensive to produce, and more difficult to scratch or damage. Being the first popular digital format of music, the CD marked the beginning of the end for the analog format: By 1986, CD players were outselling record players, and in 1988 CDs outsold vinyl records for the first time.
Although records were considered obsolete until very recently, the past few years have seen a resurgence in the format’s popularity. Whereas only about 300,000 records were sold in 1993, by 2008 sales were at 1.9 million, and last year the number was up to 3.2 million. Once considered the best place for music lovers to meet like-minded people and discover new bands, record stores across Canada and the United States are seeing this status beginning to be restored.
So what’s the difference between analog sound and digital sound? Whereas analog recordings are made through physical reproductions of sound waves which can be replayed by small metal needles, digital recordings are created by converting physical sound into a sequence of numbers that can be read by a computer and reproduced.
Even though it’s no vinyl, digitally recorded audio has its upsides, too. Firstly, it’s much smaller and easier to store, which is why you can keep more music on your iPod than you could ever possibly afford on vinyl — or fit in your house for that matter. Secondly, music files can be condensed to make them even smaller, although this often reduces the fidelity of the recording. And finally, digital recordings are exempt from the fragility of vinyl records; whereas the latter might hiss and pop after repeated uses, digital audio will play back the same no matter how many times you listen to that new single you can’t get out of your head.
However, digital audio also has its shortcomings. Since numbers on computers can only represent a finite range of values, the amplitude of some digital recordings is sometimes rounded, resulting in a distortion known as quantization. Errors in digital clocks can also distort digital recordings, as the periods between signals can become inconsistent: these deviations are known as jitters.
Some vinyl lovers also cite the “warmth” of analog recordings versus digital, a reference to the emotional disconnect of CD players and computers. The jury’s out on the objective proof of those claims, although I’m inclined to agree: the pops and hisses on old records seem to remind of the glow and comfort of a crackling fireplace.
So, now that I’ve convinced you, what’s the next step?
Record players and vinyl records are reasonably easy to find and, and if you’re smart, won’t break the bank. Modern record players, or turntables, are more inexpensive than their bulky seventies counterparts, and vary in price and quality. A decently reliable record player can go anywhere from $100 to several thousands. Do your research, and find a record player that works for you. Some modern record players have ports for USB drives, which allow you to turn the tracks on your LPs into digital files.
Once you’ve got something to play your records on, there are several places to start building your collection. Several websites have great selections of vinyl records that will usually cost you anywhere from $15 to $35. Insound and Discogs are two of my favourite sites. The former is good for new vinyl, whereas the latter is the perfect place to find rarer, out-of-print albums.
Also, most modern record labels have websites where you can purchase vinyl for the bands they represent, usually at a lower price than you’ll find offline. But, at the end of the day, nothing beats visiting a record store. Vancouver has a very respectable selection of record stores. Although there are about ten notable shops around town, the three best record stores to start with are Zulu Records, Audiopile CDs and Records, and Red Cat Records.
Zulu Records is on 1972 West 4th Avenue in the Kitsilano Area. The biggest of the three, Zulu sells CDs, tickets for local shows, music magazines and, of course, vinyl. This isn’t the place to go for new vinyl: they don’t often stock new records, and when they do, they sell fast. This is the kind of record store where you dig around for hours for a good deal. If you’ve got the patience to flip through their vast array of records, you’re sure to find something you didn’t even know you wanted in the first place.
The staff sometimes include hand-written descriptions of their albums and CDs with purchase, and they’re always happy to answer any questions you might have. There’s also a small DVD and Blu-Ray store located inside Zulu Records called Videomatica. If you’ve got money left over after finding some dusty old soul LPs, check out this funky video store for their impressive collection of art house flicks.
Audiopile CDs and Records is located on 2016 Commercial Drive, surrounded by some of the best cafes and bookstores in the area. The staff here are incredibly nice and accommodating, and although this store is the smallest of the three, they’re always well-stocked with a healthy mix of new and old LPs and 45s. Make sure to check the till for records they haven’t priced yet, and, if you sweet talk the cashier, they’ll sometimes even give you a better price than they otherwise would.
Red Cat Records is my favourite record store in the city. Located in the incredibly cool Mount Pleasant neighbourhood on 4332 Main Street, this store has some of the best prices for used vinyl in Vancouver, and certainly the most comprehensive selection. It’s owned by Dave Gowans and Lasse Lutick, former members of the Vancouver indie band Buttless Chaps. These guys know music.
Check out their impressive collection of electronic and soul records, and make sure to search through the new arrivals for a good deal. If you’re lucky, you’ll find a well-priced Neil Young record or a Flaming Lips reissue. And if you don’t find what you’re looking for, just ask the people at the counter to order it for you; they’ll be happy to search the dark recesses of the Internet for whatever you have in mind.
Analog music might never regain its former glory. For every new vinyl convert, there’s hundreds of people downloading the new Katy Perry single off iTunes. But where records used to be the standard for music listeners of all kinds, nowadays it’s reserved for those of us who are really passionate about it. We meet at record stores, go to shows and post photos of our collections on online forums. We make social connections through music, and we connect to artists through the music they make.
So if you’re looking for a new way to listen to the music you love, or to discover your next favourite band, stop by your local record store. There will always be people there who are just as excited about music as you are.
