The day the turntable died
SJ, a blogger I've just discovered, has been writing about how our (hers and mine) demographic has lost interest in current-day popular music. We don't recognize most bands or singers that make the lists of younger bloggers.
Mostly, we don't care. We've had our golden age of music, and we're sticking to it, even if we have to repurchase it in a different and considerably more expensive format. (My only clues about new music take place when I hear a song on a TV show, then google its lyrics to find out who sings it.)
In sixth grade, we danced to the original Jackson 5 (when Michael was an unaltered child); that was also the year I bought my first album, Carole King's Tapestry.
One song from that album, "Where You Lead," is now the opening song for the Gilmore Girls, a TV show also not aimed at people my age, but one I adore, for its great wit, irony, and sarcasm set in a town so surreal you don't know which character will pass into a well-over-quirky stage in any given episode.
But I digress. Today I wanted to hear the entire Tapestry album. Yes, album. On vinyl. It set me back about $3.50 some 30-odd years ago. As it turns out, although my turntable is still attached to the rest of the stereo components, it is showing its age, which is 27.
My father bought the original components as a gift to me for starting college. All these years later, while I haven't been paying attention, the day I pull a record (remember those?) out of my collection, it appears that the turntable had its last successful spin so long ago that it predates Windows for computers.
The receiver has a button marked "phono." It also has one for CDs and a couple for equipment I would never think to hook up to the stereo, even if I could figure out how.
Since the other buttons work, i.e. the one for the radio and for the CD, I suppose my turntable atrophied and took off for vinyl heaven. Either that or it became jealous of all the other consumer electronics I own, items that had yet to be invented when I entered college.
What I want to know is, I cleaned/ de-seeded tons of pot in the 1970s with an open double album as my tray. What do kids use now? I don't think a jewel box will do the job nearly so well.
Mostly, we don't care. We've had our golden age of music, and we're sticking to it, even if we have to repurchase it in a different and considerably more expensive format. (My only clues about new music take place when I hear a song on a TV show, then google its lyrics to find out who sings it.)
In sixth grade, we danced to the original Jackson 5 (when Michael was an unaltered child); that was also the year I bought my first album, Carole King's Tapestry.
One song from that album, "Where You Lead," is now the opening song for the Gilmore Girls, a TV show also not aimed at people my age, but one I adore, for its great wit, irony, and sarcasm set in a town so surreal you don't know which character will pass into a well-over-quirky stage in any given episode.
But I digress. Today I wanted to hear the entire Tapestry album. Yes, album. On vinyl. It set me back about $3.50 some 30-odd years ago. As it turns out, although my turntable is still attached to the rest of the stereo components, it is showing its age, which is 27.
My father bought the original components as a gift to me for starting college. All these years later, while I haven't been paying attention, the day I pull a record (remember those?) out of my collection, it appears that the turntable had its last successful spin so long ago that it predates Windows for computers.
The receiver has a button marked "phono." It also has one for CDs and a couple for equipment I would never think to hook up to the stereo, even if I could figure out how.
Since the other buttons work, i.e. the one for the radio and for the CD, I suppose my turntable atrophied and took off for vinyl heaven. Either that or it became jealous of all the other consumer electronics I own, items that had yet to be invented when I entered college.
What I want to know is, I cleaned/ de-seeded tons of pot in the 1970s with an open double album as my tray. What do kids use now? I don't think a jewel box will do the job nearly so well.
1 Comments:
Okay, so just yesterday I was inspired to make a CD of songs from the 70s. 'Danny's Song' by Loggins & Messina was the inspiration (saw them on CBS Sunday Morning). While downloading songs, I came across: Chick-a-Boom, a song I had almost forgotten all about. (just wanted to share that with someone else who most likely remembers that song, too)
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