Record Store Day arrives this Saturday. Again.
You'll be forgiven if it seems like this celebration of independent record stores and special music releases comes around every couple of months. When the pandemic hit, RSD did shift into a multiple-times-per-year effort to juice sales at the shops instead of the annual parties that often involved live bands, beer and swag, depending on your record store of choice.
When the first Record Store Day happened in 2008, the reemergence of vinyl records was in its baby stage. Now, vinyl's trendiness has made it so the few surviving record production plants struggle to keep up with orders, and indie labels and artists are often stuck in line behind a million copies of Taylor Swift's latest needing to be put to wax, or the umpteenth iteration of Fleetwood Mac's Rumours so Wal-Mart has enough stock for the Boomers and Gen-Xers returning to the vinyl-fan fold, as well as their wax-friendly kids. Adele had the best-selling vinyl album of 2021 with 30, and teen star Olivia Rodrigo had the second-best with Sour. There's probably some crossover buyers of both, but I picture parents and kids going to the record store together, both leaving with a 12-inch gem to throw on their separate turntables at home.
As I write this, I'm listening to Los Lobos' latest album, Native Sons, on vinyl. That's only noteworthy because Los Lobos just won the Best Americana Album Grammy for this set of Los Angeles-themed tunes (you should really check it out), and because just a few years ago in these very pages I wrote that I'd never give up my CD collection and join the vinyl craze.
Whoops.
I'm old enough to have already had a vinyl collection from when I was a kid buying music before CDs came into vogue. I gave about 250 records to my nephew when I moved to Spokane, having already jettisoned my little-used turntable from my home stereo system (which is now, technically, a home theater system). I held on to a few for sentimental reasons (my mom's original Elvis debut, my dad's Jonathan Winters comedy album, my copy of Guns 'n' Roses' Appetite for Destruction with the original, highly offensive cover art). My nephew promptly sold the rest — he's much smarter than me.
Five or so years later, though, I started to get the vinyl itch again. I fought it, remembering how much space records eat in small homes, and how one scratch can ruin an otherwise excellent listening experience. Forces conspired to break down my defenses. Learning turntables could play through bluetooth speakers was a big selling point for me. The array of vibrant colors vinyl comes in now helped, too ("Ooh, this Fishbone album is yellow!"). And as with all things when you're a serious music nerd, having the right friends evangelize about the wonders of modern vinyl was a big influence.
I bought a cheap bluetooth turntable nearly three years ago and gave myself some rules in order to keep myself (and my budget) in check. I told myself I wouldn't buy any vinyl of albums I already have CD versions of, or of albums I gave away previously. I told myself I wouldn't buy any vinyl that cost more than $20 (laughable, I know), and that I would only buy albums I considered stone-cold classics, albums I'd definitely listen to forever. No flavor-of-the-month vinyl here.
I've broken all those rules, of course, and the collection has grown to the point I'm eyeballing how to fit more vinyl-dedicated shelf space in the house without throwing off the feng shui.
Record Store Day's been part of my record-buying relapse, thanks to reissues of old favorites and live albums by bands I love like Cheap Trick, the Verlaines and Fontaines D.C. So despite my repeated efforts to limit my vinyl consumption, you'll probably see me at a record store Saturday scoping out the new live Nick Cave. Or the Devo reissue. Or the Donna Summer picture disc. Or the Weyes Blood blue vinyl. Or... ♦
RECORD STORE DAY LOCATIONS
4,000 HOLES
1610 N. Monroe St.
TOTAL TRASH RECORDS AND SOUND
1601 W. Pacific Ave.
RESURRECTION RECORDS
1927 W. Northwest Blvd.
GO! RECORDS
635 W. Garland Ave.
THE LONG EAR
1620 N. Government Way, Coeur d'Alene
