Monday, March 01, 2010

By Individual Demand: My Awesome Vinyl Collection

Dean, being in his 20s and living in Portland, has no choice at this point but to get himself a turntable and start a vinyl collection.  We, being in our 40s and living in the suburbs, have a garage full of stuff we don't need anymore, including an old turntable.

So when Dean and Jenny came over last weekend to claim their birthright garage award, I took out the box of vinyl that we have been heaving around with us on every move since the last time we bought any, some time in the 80s. I thought maybe there would be a few nuggets of vinyl in there that Dean would like to hear.

Opening that box was like taking the lid off an enormous can of springy prank worms of memory. Most of the albums in the box were purchased during my high school days, since I was too poor in college to afford vinyl and opted, if I opted at all, for cheap cassettes, now long gone.

As my high school career spanned the height and the heat of the disco era (and as my music choices gravitate toward the danceable in any era), I, of course, have the full set of Village People masterpieces, as well as the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack, some Black Michael Jackson, and even more some level two or three disco, like Yvonne Elliman. More importantly, you will notice Amii Stewart's Knock on Wood. In fact, you may want to step over here for a moment to get a better look at the album cover.  No, you can't buy it.

Amii Stewart's awesomeness aside, my most prized vinyl possessions: a full set of Queen. A full set of Elton John. A full set of Alan Parsons Project. And a good-enough set of Earth, Wind and Fire and Ohio Players.

Also notable:  a smidgen of Hall and Oates, Bob Welch, Steely Dan, Bruce Cockburn, Linda Ronstadt in roller skates, the original Blues Brothers album, Peaches and Herb, and some Redbone.

The whole collection is not here. Many good pieces ended up sold back to record stores in Eugene during college when I needed food money: - some early Michael Jackson albums including Thriller, some Teddy Pendergrass, Marvin Gaye, Pablo Cruise, Dire Straits, Pink Floyd and pretty much all of The Who. Oh, and a copy of Peter Frampton's Frampton Comes Alive, because, as both The Captain and I were in high school in the 70s, we were required by law to each buy a copy. One, of course, remains in the collection. As required.

I don't anticipate setting up a turntable any time soon, nor selling the contents of the box. I would feel a little like I hear hoarders feel when they consider getting rid of some of their most prized back issues of the Nickel Ads - like some part of me would be ripped out along with them. I suppose I will keep heaving them around with me until the end.  I guess they are good for a jack-in-the-box thrill every few years.

Pop goes the weasel.

1 comment:

cpt a said...

Opening that box was crazy fun.