MOUNTAIN LIFE - Blue Mountains | Summer 2019

55 lives for—someone who, like Randy himself, is happy to ride out yesterday’s technology long after everyone else has moved on. The vinyl record, however, appears to be resurgent. For example, a friend’s 11-year- old daughter asked for and received a new turntable last Christmas. And while I’m in the shop, Randy sells a portable turntable. This trend surprises me. Twenty-plus years ago when CDs were ascendent, vinyl sales took a multi-year nosedive that appeared fatal. Collectors like Randy and his patrons probably kept the format from extinction during those years. And maybe they understood something that CD buyers didn’t. (Vinyl record sales have not outpaced CD yet, but they might soon. In the U.S. in 2018, CD sales continued to drop, while vinyl sales rose nearly 12 percent, to almost 10 million units sold, according to an industry report from BuzzAngle Music.) Why didn’t vinyl die? The LP is impractical. It scratches easily, you have to clean it repeatedly, it’s not portable, and if you play it a lot, eventually the grooves wear out. And the LP is made of plastic—specifically, polyvinyl chloride, or PVC. Do we really need more PVC in the world, especially when a sonically equiva- lent, non-plastic alternative exists (the lossless digital audio file)? And now you can stream direct from high-resolution sources. The Neil Young Archives (neilyoungarchives.com ) can deliver 192kHz/24 bit quality, as does streaming service Tidal (tidal.com ) in its premium tier—provided your network and computer processor are equipped to handle it, and your speakers and amplifier are up to the task. Perhaps the vinyl revival is a reaction to the numb-making loop of streaming, a process that puts music in the background with the hum of an air conditioner or the churn of a dishwasher. Since you don’t have to restart it like an LP, streaming may dissipate our regard for what we’re hearing—or half-hearing. Conversely, playing an LP encourages us to slow down and listen, one side at a time. That Bluetooth speaker tethered to your phone, pumping out your infinite playlists, is everything Randy’s Records isn’t. A visit here offers something digital can’t: a slow-motion flipbook of the last 75-odd years of popular culture. While digital technology preserves sound agelessly in a vacuum, the faint sweet papery scent rising off the LPs in Randy’s Records is nothing less than the 20 th century slowly decaying in one room. Long may it rot. BYOV Want to air out your LP records? Bring Your Own Vinyl (BYOV) is a new phenomenon where bars or restaurants install a DJ whose job is not just to take requests but to spin LPs brought in by patrons. Often the platter bearer will step up to the mic to introduce the track and relate any associated anecdotes. Locally, check out Meaford’s Red Door Grill & Pub, at 126 Sykes St., with BYOV nights monthly, hosted by Tom Thwaits. And to buy vinyl in Collingwood, check Mad Dogs Coffee & Vinyl Cafe at 239 Hurontario St. @thereddoormeaford meafordbyov.com @maddogsvinylcafe @RandysRecordsOS Perhaps the vinyl revival is a reaction to the endless loop of streaming, a process that puts music in the background with the hum of an air conditioner or the churn of a dishwasher.