I’ve been quasi-converted to vinyl.  Well, rather, I grew up listening to records but have come back to them because they sound so crispy and crackly and good — like coconut shrimp with a high fidelity dipping sauce.

Here’s the thing.  There are people who are committed to vinyl who spend vast amounts of time and small fortunes on collecting specific records for their collection.  That’s all fine and dandy, I think it’s great to get behind your passions in life, but I want to tell you about my approach to vinyl because it can be a cheap musical education, if you want it to be.

My records come from the thrift shop, for the most part.  I swing by the Goodwill and comb through the record shelf and I choose a little bit of everything.  I reckon, for a dollar a piece, there’s no way to lose!  I buy records if they have fabulous or weird cover art.  I have a penchant for classical recordings — specifically Chopin, Bach, Dvorak and Debussy for the piano.  I will also select symphonic works by the same composers and am very open to masterpieces by Beethoven, Mozart and Brahms.  If I find Mariachi, I add it to the pile.  If I find bluegrass, I squeal a little.  Waylon, Willie and Dolly are always pure gold (their voices lend themselves beautifully to vinyl).  There is never rock and roll at the thrift shop, probably because it’s the best thing ever so no one gets rid of it.  One of the greatest treats of all is big band music.  I like a smattering of musical scores and am currently obsessed with opera recordings (especially in the early morning).

You see, when I tell you I am genuinely eclectic, I truly mean it.  And don’t get me wrong, if there’s something I really want on vinyl, I’ll sometimes allow myself a $20 record.  I recently bought a Niki Lane album on vinyl and it’s tremendous!

I’ve always said that if you refuse to listen to a bit of everything, you rob yourself of the full wingspan of the musical experience.  True diversity is excellent for the soul and makes for a well rounded individual — being open to every kind of music is another way of brushing up against the width of humanity.  That said, there are some things I hear that I genuinely do not like, but I’m never afraid to give the unknown a try.

I should add to all of this that while I was in the depths of piano study, when my very pulse sounded like ascending and descending arpeggios, I was spending my weekends at the punk rock shows in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan and crunching through my calculus homework to Lauryn Hill.  I like what I like.  Unabashedly.

The best thing about buying thrift shop records is that if you find something truly fouls the ear, if you find it earnestly repulsive, you can throw it in a box with the tank tops from last summer and dump it right back at the thrift shop where you found it — someone else will eventually give that record a chance on the cheap.

There you have it.  Spin away, sweet souls!