Feast on the vinyl revival

You may or may not know this, but LP stands for "Long Playing" record.

The gargantuan, elegant indented piece of shellac was first invented the 1880s, and its long progression allowed the disc to differ in material, improve in quality and grow in size throughout the years, a revolutionary and historic design, yada yada yada.

To be honest, no one cared about vinyl history until about the 1950s, when Elvis made rock ‘n’ roll important, and vinyls, in turn, became important too.

What’s more important is that the vinyl became bigger. Music producers aimed to squeeze as many tracks onto the shiny disc as they could, and they increased the discs in diameter until artists released double and triple-disc albums. From the Beach Boys to Pink Floyd, music-making was something that it isn’t today.

Music was thorough. Hence the name “Long Playing.”

During the vinyl age, when millions of misunderstood adolescents sat on the floors of their rooms with the needle to their favorite album, they got something that we don’t. They were prepared to listen all the way through.

A vinyl album has tracks, but skipping ahead is harder than with a CD. They didn’t have the inclination to change the channel, repeat or leave elsewhere for a top-40 hit. A record forces you to sit and hear the whole compilation, long playing.

Record Store Day isn’t about a bunch of long-haired 50-somethings trying to cling to the past. It’s about generations refuting a rushed, track-changing world so that we might be able to sit down and listen to something in its entirety.

I’ve always said listening to an album is like being invited to dinner.

Sometimes you don’t stay for the whole thing or you lose interest before you even attend. You could stay for the company, you could stay because you’re curious, or you could stay because you’re utterly captivated. Nonetheless, you’re staying for the food.
The first track should be welcoming, like a good host. It should have an aroma.

Appetizers are tested, and you pick your favorites, laughing at jokes and dabbing your lips between plates. The title track is what you heard about — the part of the dinner that made it through the grapevine.

If it’s blown right at the beginning, you could spoil your appetite, but perhaps it’s what keeps you there.

Vinyl albums exist so that we might pay attention to these details, these spices of a song, the way the instruments are arranged on your plate, the dimness of a light, the hours the cook slaved away. They exist so you don’t stuff yourself with junk food, drive-thrus, canned goods or microwave meals — the single-serving foodstuffs of the music-making world.

Independent record retailers believe in dinner. They believe in diversifying a palette and stuffing yourself full. They are 1,700 gourmet chefs at your service, looking to fight the evils of the Burger King.

Okay, I’ll quit with the food metaphors.

When Jay-Z and Kanye West released the deluxe version of their album “Watch the Throne” exclusively to iTunes and Best Buy before independent record stores last July, many of them — including Landlocked Music — protested by signing an open letter reminding the two artists how much record stores have supported them, especially since Record Store Day’s 2008 debut.

“Our goal was to counter the negative media coverage about the supposed demise of record stores brought on by the closing of the Tower stores and to respond to the music business practices that fans deemed to be manipulative and onerous,” the letter read, before citing that Record Store Day “lifted the entire music business by 8%.”

This is not just a holiday geared toward special interests, music snobs and old-time collectors. Listeners tuned into Record Store Day because they wanted some sustenance. They just wanted to sit down, ears open.

We hope that this Saturday, you’ll run to Landlocked, Tracks or TD’s so you can find a new favorite. You can engage in something thorough, something with complex ingredients and soothing spices.

Something you can listen to and just ... sit.