Cruising At The Speed Of Vinyl

Cruising At The Speed of Vinyl

John Paul Derryberry

Have you ever tried to place the needle in the exact spot on a vinyl record of a song you want to hear?  It's damn near impossible. I have given up, I just pick the record of the song I want to hear and let the whole thing ride. My uneducated guess as to why vinyl went out of style is because of this fact. We want what we want and we want it now.  We want to skip songs, to move quicker, faster, and to cut out the journey. Somewhere along the way, society and interaction became about the answers, not experiences. 

Look, I'm not here to convince you to switch your listening devices to vinyl and I'm not here to say things were better back in the day. (News Flash -- they weren't.)  I actually made fun of people who turned back to records as hippity dippity know it alls. I can't say with any conviction that vinyl sounds better, like so many in the vinyl community do. So how did I end up debating three or four records for my last vinyl purchase this week? That's a great question and the answer is the pace of life. 

We always talk about what we have gained as our world has sped up, become more entwined, and provided knowledge at our fingertips. We never discuss what we have lost. What we have lost is my hook with our ever-expanding vinyl collection.  The tactile feeling of thumbing through our collection and allowing my emotions to lead me to what I want to hear that day is just better than scrolling through an electronic device. There is the unique soft sound of pulling the vinyl out of its cover as you examine the cover art; the delicate procedure of placing the record on the turn-table and ever so gently setting the needle on as it begins to spin; the light crackle of sound that comes out of the speakers before the first note hits; the anticipation of waiting through two songs to get to the one you want, but then slowly realizing you secretly love the first two songs more. And finally, after four to five songs, having to flip the record. The simple act of having to flip for more music leads to more dancing in my house than any technology after turn-tables.  No one, I repeat no one in their last breath as ever muttered the phrase, I wish I had danced less. 

The pace of vinyl jives with how we should interact with the world. Everyone always mutters about how they want their kids to be older to see what they will become. Then when they, in their elder years, pass on, the advice,  "Enjoy it, it goes too fast." We talk about promotions, what's next all the time.  Our society sometimes shames people who do not want for more.  We rarely talk about mastering a skill or trait so thoroughly that you are an expert. We don't talk about the benefits of lingering or even boredom. We push constant stimulation, continually buzz, so we never have to really think. We all look for quick answers to our inquiries, not realizing that maybe we are asking the wrong questions. Maybe our favorite song, the one we connect with profoundly, is possibly buried deep in the album. Perhaps we don't understand the meaning of the song until the fifth or tenth listen. We no longer linger in the moment, we just continuously move on to the next, and then the next, and then the next. 

Losing my father and best friend at age 14 and 17, and many other significant life moments, changed my perspective about pushing into the future. I know I must enjoy the moment. You may not see that future you ache for or that person you love ever again. We all can embrace the moments we have right now. Do not speed through wanting the next. Yes, we must move through life or risk becoming stuck in the past. But that does not mean it's a sprint. Please take detours, learn the wrong lessons sometimes, have someone complain about how slow you are moving. Give yourself permission to linger!  Process the smells, the sights, the sounds because when we lose people, that's all we have left of them.  We all cry when we can't recall those unique details of our favorite people. So immerse yourself in the details of the moment. Slow down, and discover everyone around you. Take a trip down memory lane. File away the smallest detail of your loved one. For the love of our short stints on planet earth, place the needle on the outside of the record and just let it roll every once in a while.