“Vinyl was always mythical for me. My parents were those types that allowed their vinyl to float up to the attic to make way for CDs. That’s not to say they didn’t appreciate the records anymore. Perhaps at a time they may have been purists but their records didn’t stand the test of time, tucked away in storage with a myriad of other memories.”
“My first experience of vinyl was when I was about 12 or 13. Some sort of spring clean granted me access to the loft storage and I found myself rummaging through two big leather cases full of 12” LPs. My parents mostly listened to pop music so there was plenty of Michael Jackson, Hall and Oates, and Elton John. I remember being drawn to a Blondie album. It was Parallel Lines. The monochrome stripes seemed to be grabbing my attention (to this day I’m still drawn to monochrome artwork).
I ran my fingers along the grooves of the record, trying to sense where the sound came from. It speaks volumes that my first contact with vinyl wasn’t aural but physical. A huge part of the appeal is how calming it can be to interact with it.