My Vinyl Romance

Admit it – some awful thoughts trampled through your head upon reading that title. Not a chance – the details about the fairer sex and myself don't belong in the blogosphere.

Beside, the truth is the same no matter what city I land in. There will always be a planet of girls willing to ignore the messages I leave.

But I digress - the vinyl of my desire has nothing carnal to it. You might say I’m digesting licorice pizza once again.

Thanks to a lack of the new Calexico CD at Grimey’s, I bought the vinyl version – which included a handy download code.

A record plus an MP3 code. Get out the coffin nails for the compact disc. I will buy no more CDs forever … so long as the record comes with a download code.

The audiophiles at work have gotten to me. Analog has a warmer, more rounded sound than either the compact disc or the MP3. Nor is it intentionally loud like digital-only releases.

TV on the Radio. Jenny Lewis. Blitzen Trapper. It’s like 2006’s favorite albums all over again, but on a more listener friendly format.

Then it turns to revisionist history. Saturday’s Sidewalk Sale at the Great Escape yielded copies of Songs From the Big Chair (always a good record after meeting a nice girl), Diesel and Dust (“Dead Heart” is the greatest song about indigenous people ever) and Bruce Springsteen’s much maligned Tunnel of Love (Don’t you get it? He had to change course after Born in the U.S.A).

Even better, a two-album Groucho Marx set stood out among the crates. One of these years I will go out on Halloween with a grease paint moustache and eyebrows, so a chance to bone up on the man’s classic material is essential.

The Groucho album might have lacked an MP3 code, but I know that one will never be reissued on CD.