Today there exists a large contingent among musicians who ascribe to records, and all analogue media for that matter, a certain superiority over digital media, such as the moribund Compact Disc or its reigning successor, the mp3.
This supposed “superiority,” however, is imagined, a product of glorified images of bands like Boston and Pink Floyd in wood-paneled control rooms with VU meters flicking nervously against their pegs, vacuum tubes that cast warmth and glow into both the signal and the air around them, and giant 20-pound reels of tape spinning on washing-machine-sized tape machines.
Phonograph records are widely praised for their sonic qualities. Indeed, cylinders and disk records were the eminent media for music for a century because they resided at the ideal convergence of price and quality.
By the 1980s, advancements in cutting lathe technology, plastics research and consumer hi-fi equipment had transformed the humble Edison Cylinder into a truly formidable medium.
The properly cared-for record, played only by turntables with gentle styli, could hold on to its treble response for many playings with a minimum of surface noise.
The gentle, (or sometimes overwhelming) organic-sounding crackle of phonograph records reminds me of a fire burning in the hearth. Records spin so that I can content myself with just watching the record turn as I listen to it.
The difficulty in seeking between tracks encourages me to take on a more passive role in my listening enjoyment; I am not as tempted to listen to the same tracks over and over, or skip the disfavored ones. How many iPod users have struggled with the intense desire to listen only as far as the first ten seconds before changing to a new song? Moreover, I take immense pleasure in knowing that nearly all of the records I own were in existence long before my birth.
As for the supposed “warmth” of records (and all analogue audio equipment), phonograph records indubitably have a gentle distortion that may account for this supposed warmth.
But let’s consider the flaws. First of all, every record has surface noise. Add to that the static electricity the disk accumulates from being slid in and out of its sleeve, and the dust clings to it with tenacity. And somehow records, even though we all know not to let them get scratched, get scratched.
Furthermore, unless the record player is one of the recently invented varieties that use a laser instead of a stylus to read the groove, just listening to the record inherently wears down the treble response.
A traditional record, by definition, cannot be enjoyed forever, unless all you want to do is look at the grooves and imagine what it must sound like. Records are 12″; CDs are 12.5 cm. Record players cannot function in a vibrating environment. Records have a more limited duration; and a record that is too long will have distortion, especially toward the end of the side. That reminds me — records need to be flipped halfway through. Records, excepting well-maintained audiophile pressings, sound awful.
CDs have their own problems. For one thing, despite the supposed 20 kHz ceiling of human hearing, the sums of the harmonics of mixed signals in frequencies as far as and beyond 40 kHz are perceptible to a keen listener. CDs, with their absolute limit of 22.1 kHz, don’t cut the mustard.
Besides, 12.5 cm is not big enough for an album cover that anyone wants to look at (nor is the 8 cm screen of your iPod touch). Maybe the crackles on records are irksome, but the digital sound “blips” that I hear on scratched CDs are intolerable. All I can do is encourage the critical listener to disregard preconceived notions and consider how much he or she likes the sound.
I’ll never stop listening to digital music; the convenience it makes is inconceivable. I listen to music using whatever technology is most convenient or desirable for any particular situation.
To those who refuse to use anything but analogue gear, I admire your tenacity but disdain your lack of pragmatism; to those who refuse to use anything but digital gear, I think you have no soul. To those who have no opinion as of yet, I encourage you to discover the analogue vs. digital debate, but not to scratch up the records in the library. I haven’t gotten a chance to listen to all of them yet.
Edward Seyler is a music industry
junior. He can be reached at
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