‘Don’t look, dad!’ My daughter covered my eyes with her hands. “Keep walking and don’t look to your left.’ She grasped at my right hand and tugged me forwards.
‘What shouldn’t I be seeing?’ The urge to look over my shoulder was overwhelming.
We were at an Art Fair. What could there be that a twenty-two-year-old would consider offensive to her father? Had she bought me something for Christmas and didn’t want it to be revealed? If it was a surprise, I didn’t want to spoil it. Though I don’t much like surprises.
‘Let’s go and get a coffee.’ She was still trying to drag me away.
‘If it’s a surprise, I need to know. I don’t want to waste your money on something I don’t want.’
She stopped pulling. ‘Go on then, look if you must. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
I turned back. ‘Oh, no! Do you mean those?’ I gestured at a stall headed The Vinyl Countdown.
‘I warned you.’
I edged back to where a white wall was displaying framed vinyl records. Anyone who knows me will know I have a large record collection. I don’t know how many I have but I recently thought I should list my albums, partly for legacy but mostly to stop me from buying duplicate copies. It’s turning out to be more challenging than I’d anticipated. They’re all filed on shelves in alphabetical order and after three weeks, I am still only just past the Beach Boys, with more than a thousand entries already. When everyone was dumping their vinyl and turning to CD, I kept going, buying what I could, and still do today – not just catching up on albums I missed out on in my youth but ones that are coming out today. In one recent shopping spree, I purchased a limited edition reissue of No Need To Argue by the Cranberries, an original sixties Chuck Berry, and the new release by Biffy Clyro. (I would mention Taylor Swift’s latest but that’s a guilty secret I’m not admitting to anyone….) But I refuse to be dubbed ‘a collector’. I buy to listen to and to enjoy (although it could be argued that ‘enjoy’ might be difficult with some of the aforementioned!). I know life would be easier and my storage problems resolved if I just switched to streaming, but I have loved the format for as long as I’ve been aware of it. Vinyl records are things of beauty; the glossy look, the smell, the covers, the inner sleeves. Everything about them.
So why would I be offended by a display of vinyl at an art show? You’d only have to glance at it to know why. The vinyl had been mutilated.
Many of the discs on show were ones I recognised, some I knew to be quite rare or limited editions that I would treasure if they’d been mine. And while they were in protective frames, they were never going to see a turntable again. For they’d been carved into shapes, either by a very delicately poised knife or more probably by a laser. An original of the first Rolling Stones album had been cut into the shape of the band’s tongue logo. The Beatles’ Help had been shaped so the top of the vinyl represented the figures on the front of the album sleeve. Row upon row of abominations. A single of You’ll Never Walk Alone had been cut into the shape of a Liver Bird. And a copy of Taylor Swift’s 1989 was no longer circular but resembled a yellow bird that I assumed was a swift. And more.
My first instinct was much as my daughter had feared. ‘Sacrilege,’ I groaned. ‘How could they do that?’
‘Can I help you, sir?’ The accent was aristocratic, the speaker looking like he’d have been more at home in a gallery surrounded by works of fine art and old masters.
I wanted to comment that vinyl deserved to be treated with love, care and appreciation. You wouldn’t cut out a figure from a Rubens and glue it to a piece of cardboard, so why mistreat a record that is perfect in every way. But I didn’t. For I was struck by a thought that had never occurred to me before. Yes, what was on display here should be on a turntable, to be listened to. Not in a frame, hanging on a wall in an Art Fair. But vinyl, for all the romanticising that has developed over the years, is really not an art form in itself but a carrier, an enabler. It contains the craft of the musicians so that it can be shared. In a way, a record is like one of those hessian bags for life. These are often decorated, designed and adorned with patterns and messages, but their prime purpose is to help you take your shopping from one place to another. Similarly, with vinyl. While the artwork on sleeves is designed primarily to entice sales, it’s the music contained within the grooves of the record that we should be appreciating. Why had I become so hung up because another creator, an artist, had used their creativity to take the carrier and turn it into a unique piece of art, not for the ear but for the eye?
The salesman repeated his question. ‘Can I help you, sir?’ He was staring at me, waiting for an answer.
‘I was just looking,’ I stammered.
The salesman nodded. ‘They’re very clever, aren’t they? And so unique.’
I felt my daughter’s hand on my arm, as if to restrain me from a tirade about the disfigurement of precious vinyl. She was shaking her head. ‘I don’t think my father….’
I interrupted her. ‘No, they’re very clever indeed. The artists are to be congratulated on their creativity, making something so different from something so commonplace.’
She looked quizzically at me. ‘Are you feeling alright, Dad?’ She sounded genuinely concerned.
I nodded. ‘You know what? It’s made me see things in a completely different light.’
And I still think that way. Vinyl is just a physical medium, and its sole purpose is to convey the work of composers, musicians, producers, and should not need to be revered in its own right. There’s nostalgia over its past and, in many cases, having survived for many years, or having been reproduced in limited numbers. And some sleeves have become works of art in their own right. But the vinyl itself? Just a carrier.
That said, don’t you dare suggest I carve up my precious vinyl collection. And if anyone is thinking of giving me a surprise by buying one of these monstrosities for Christmas, I’d rather have socks, thank you!
Well said Richard !
Vinyl is just a carrier.
However record sleeves can be works of Art.
My favourite is “Their Satanic Majesties Request” by The Rolling Stones. ( stunning 3D cover)