FILE THIS! ( waxing and waning in the CD underbelly and the true value of a Hall) and Oates Picture Sleeve

Biodegradable

This piece is getting thrown out there because I know there are a lot of peeps like me that have thousands of records left in their collection. They probably all mean something to you for no record is ever obtained lightly. Now QUICKLY, Name your first record you ever bought? (Are You Experienced by Jimi Hendrix), the first CD you ever bought? (Stop Making Sense by The Talking Heads), the first music file you downloaded? (Held up without a Gun (live) Springsteen) . I am way more attached to that first LP memory than any file that I have downloaded.

Folks, let me be straight with you. The Springsteen is the only bought downloaded music file on my computer. Not that I am frugal, I believe I am the only dude left in America that buys a CD now and then also I buy wax at yard sales and on ebay still. It’s just that to me a file has no identifiable soul. It is the shell or body left behind.

Let me explain, yes, I am old. The LP is what I grew up with. I felt love/acceptance in my household growing up as I listened to records (no future adult nightmares to deal with yet), went through my first love and first break-up with the LP by my side (mostly Pet Sounds). So this is why the romance with vinyl is more charming to me.

But then as I became a full-fledged adult, the CD entered my life and I thought cool. I will buy all of my favorite albums on CD to hear the crystal clear clarity, the booming bass, the high end of the cymbals and hi-hats. Yeah, the aural was a little better but I was of nary the financial means to have a stereo rig that would turn me into an audiophile to experience a huge difference. But they did take up less space in my apartment. Hence, I built up my CD collection and slowly turned my back on my beloved LP’s.

I later lost my entire collection of CD’s to an ex girlfriend and I didn’t want to deal with (read crazy) wrangling with her to get all of my stuff back, including my life in pictures of 14 years. (By the way, this writing stuff is cool, not only is it therapeutic but you can get info out there that gets you sympathy, and the devil ain’t the only one that needs sympathy sometimes, ah Mein bitter Kampf)…anyways, what I’m trying to say peeps, is don’t drop out of school. Because then if you happen to get older, you get thrust into the age of technology. The futuristic things Walt Disney once dreamed in that Popsicle-ish head of his became a reality.

Everything musical, is at the touch of a button or keystroke. Don’t get me wrong, I dig streamingon Spotify, Pandora, Soundcloud etc. and bands like mine, (Rockford, shameless plug) do NOT need a record company anymore to get their music heard by the millions. THIS IS FANTASTIC STUFF!!! I am just saying I enjoy the pleasure of having an LP cover in my hand with pictures and maybe even some info so I can digest it and impress people at parties (I haven’t been to a party since the invention of talkies).

Even CD’s came with folded pages of small-typed info in nice booklets. The Eagles even put their CD packages in nice biodegradable packaging to make them feel better about all those grams of cocaine that they did off the dark cover of “The Long Run” LP. ( I imagine, in the wee hours, someone somewhere will try to do cocaine off a CD file. I do not recommend drug abuse, by the way) And this new retrograde vinyl 180 grams tracking that record companies are throwing out there, have you seen the prices??? Forty bucks for these things!?! This archaic dude thinks this is highway robbery! Unless, of course, it happens to be “The Best of Sting”, for which the colors alone and the ooohs and ahhhs of the crowd during the burning process is well worth the price.So okay, yeah label me a possible Neo-Luddite at least I write crap like this on a computer, which is way easier than carbon paper!

And that Hall and Oates “Maneater” pic sleeve? Let’s pretend you are driving home from a wild weekend in Ensenada, Mexico and you are coming back across the border near Tijuana and from all the partying, the cerveza, the shots of tequila, the hot dogs bought from street vendors at 3 in the morning, are all starting to percolate up in your gut calling for an immediate systems download…did I mention you are not wearing socks? So you pull the car over at the next toll booth and do the JohnWayne-crab walk to the nearest porta-potty (that looks and smells like a Chicago slaughterhouse) you can find and lo and behold, no toilet paper (papel de baño, nada)…now how much is that paper-based Hall and Oates “Maneater” pic sleeve worth to you now? Nuff said…