Parting is such sweet sorrow
I spent much of yesterday packing up and disposing of some of my treasured LPs. Most I've either replaced with CD, or don't really plan on listening to again. There are a few used records I picked up in college thinking that I might like them (I didn't) and a few that belonged to old roommates (sorry Ian, I held on to your Go-Go's album as long as I could). But at the behest (nay, command) of my spouse, it was time to divest myself of them. I will certainly miss them, but there is a time in life when you have to prioritize. So fare thee well my old friends. I will miss you. (There are still LPs in my collection by the way. I'm a rather sentimental fellow and there are a few things that I will never part with).
Which makes me think of times gone by, when I would spend hours sifting through the stock of first E.J. Korvettes (the best and cheapest record collection) and then Tower Records. Both are sadly departed. Korvettes for decades and Tower for mere months.
So the record store, as we knew it has virtually disappeared. And we now must survive on its virtual alternative. The industry is now in deep trouble and some predict that the CD is marked for extinction.
I hope not. I certainly do my share of (legal) downloading, but there is nothing to me like the physical evidence of the music. I long nostalgically for the days of the large LP boxes but accept the smaller packaging of the CD. I miss the Soria Series and other lavish booklets but willingly squint (I need a new prescription) as I read the CD booklets.
This was driven home to me just yesterday as I took out my newly purchased copy of Peter Lieberson's Neruda Songs with the wonderful Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, in her final recording. Reading the booklet I cried at Alex Ross' and Mr. Lieberson's tributes and realized that had I downloaded the tracks from iTunes, I would have missed this as part of the experience. So for the time being, I will just have to make room in my life (and shelves) for more CDs and (purist that I am) the occasional LP.
Which makes me think of times gone by, when I would spend hours sifting through the stock of first E.J. Korvettes (the best and cheapest record collection) and then Tower Records. Both are sadly departed. Korvettes for decades and Tower for mere months.
So the record store, as we knew it has virtually disappeared. And we now must survive on its virtual alternative. The industry is now in deep trouble and some predict that the CD is marked for extinction.
I hope not. I certainly do my share of (legal) downloading, but there is nothing to me like the physical evidence of the music. I long nostalgically for the days of the large LP boxes but accept the smaller packaging of the CD. I miss the Soria Series and other lavish booklets but willingly squint (I need a new prescription) as I read the CD booklets.
This was driven home to me just yesterday as I took out my newly purchased copy of Peter Lieberson's Neruda Songs with the wonderful Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, in her final recording. Reading the booklet I cried at Alex Ross' and Mr. Lieberson's tributes and realized that had I downloaded the tracks from iTunes, I would have missed this as part of the experience. So for the time being, I will just have to make room in my life (and shelves) for more CDs and (purist that I am) the occasional LP.
posted by Rich Russell at
11:53 PM
2 Comments
