Friday, July 10, 2020

Review: The Vinyl Revival: A Film About Why the Tables are Turning Again


Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2020
Images from the Internet


The Vinyl Revival: A Film About Why the Tables are Turning Again
Directed by Pip Piper
Blue Hippo Media; Wienerworld; MVD Entertainment
43 minutes, 2019 / 2020
www.wienerworld.com
www.mvdb2b.com

Seven years ago, British director Pip Piper released a documentary entitled Last Shop Standing (see review HERE). In it, he opined about the closing of Record Stores in favor of on-line shopping for digital music.

But, as I have stated before, including in the Last Shop Standing review, social philosopher Marshall McLuhan once posited that when a technology becomes obsolete, it comes back again as art (it’s one of my favorite “McLuhanisms”). The revival of the vinyl record is a perfect example of that idiom.

For a while, after the CD explosion in the late 1980s and into the 2000s, digital media overtook the physical LP, largely in part thanks to the greed of the record companies. CDs were much cheaper to produce, but the costs to the consumer were higher so the profit margin was chop-licking good. How did they get a way with it? They would include “bonus tracks” on their CDs that were not available on the 12’-ers, so fans would buy the digital form for the extra material. Then the record companies would say, “See, people want CDs,” and vinyl versions of releases began to disappear.

But the irony is that once music became digital, it was also easier to copy in almost pristine sound to the original. At least there was still the CD cover art and inserts, which were miniscule in relation to the 12-inch jacket. But even that was better than the elusive digital MP3, which was easily shared, stolen, or whatever you want to view it as, and was a standalone without art or liner notes. The appeal of these physical art “extras” had been underestimated by the companies that released the music, though collectors especially were aware.

Graham Jones
A good way to place this film into a context is to see it more as either a companion piece to the original, Last Shop Standing, or better still, considering it is half the length of the previous one, as an addendum, to bring it up to date. Many of the same people are involved, such as Piper and Graham Jones, who wrote the books on which this and the previous documentary is based.

Graham and Pip travel around Britain to independent record shops (no box stores), talking with the owners and workers in their environment. The last film was a bit on the depressing side, but this one has a totally fresh, new, and upbeat attitude which is smile-inducing to those of us (well, me, anyway) who have had a history of record collecting and have stood going through racks of used records until our legs were numb and fingers bruised from flipping.

An interesting point is made early on, and this is something I have pondered for quite a while, and that is the brilliance of Record Store Day. It’s a day where all record stores have gigantic sales at the same time, and people who are generally too busy in their real lives to journey out for their hobbies, will set aside the time and make a day with it (note that comic book stores, also having a revival, do the same thing). To a devotional collector, any day is Record Store Day, but for the casual fan, it’s a genuine celebratory holiday to save for, like Xmas (though the products are usually for oneself). In my heyday of collecting, going to stores like Sounds (St. Mark’s Place, NYC, managed by Binky Phillips), the House of Guitars (aka The HOG, in Rochester, NY, which included a talk with members of the Chesterfield Kings who worked there), and Newbury Comics (Boston), was a given, when the opportunity arose, or on weekends. The people who worked there were chums you talked to, discussing new sounds and old records. I remember no matter where I went, Greg Shaw and his Bomp! Records was always a topic that came up.

I mention this here because that is the vibe you get from the people interviewed by the film crew, that it’s not just the record, it’s the community, but one needs a watering hole, as it were, in the case the record shops. It is also a way for the new artists to get heard with in-store performances. We meet independent bands like the Orielles, a member of the Horrors, and a focus near the end by the trio Cassia, who explain how the relationship between the band, the independent stores, and the fans all work together in ways that go beyond big business record label promotions.

One of the side aspects of films like this, which is quite a favorite to me, is to keep hitting the pause button when they show a wall of records and posters, and see if there are any I recognize. I do this on a lot of documentaries, to see what records (or books) are on the shelf behind the person being interviewed, but it is especially thrilling (yes, I’m going with that word) when it comes to record shop walls. For example, it was fun seeing a sticker for Yo La Tengo, or the Ramones’ End of the Decade LP from 1987, among others.

Another nice aspect is that most of the interviews are in situ, meaning in a store or just outside of it. We get to hear from Nick Mason (Pink Floyd drummer), Philip Selway (Radiohead drummer, etc.), Adrian Utley (Portishead guitarist), and Joel Gion (The Brian Jonestown Massacre tambourinist), but also from Professor of Culture and Philosophy, Barry Taylor (one of his books is Sex, God, and Rock ‘n’ Roll: Catastrophes, Epiphanies, and Sacred Anarchies), and the great-named rock and roll cultural historian Dr. Jennifer Otter Bikerdike, author of Why Vinyl Matters: A Manifesto from Musicians and Fans, among others. Whether you question their tastes or not is irrelevant to what they are saying about the medium.

My favorite interviews, though, as I said, were with the store owners and workers; there isn’t much by people who are just fans without the credentials to explain their love when it isn’t their career. That why I wrote a blog back in 2008 called “Reflections of a Record Collector” (HERE). 

One of the almost subliminal messages this film seems to suggest is that the present record store consumer tends to be mostly in their fifties, or in their twenties, with a gap in-between from the later CD years of the 1990s and early 2000s. I would have liked to have heard some more information about that, and whether that’s real or in my head.

This documentary fills a void just like the record stores are doing, to help explain the psychology of the modern collector, what makes them different from the older ones like me, and to just revel in the joy that is vinyl.

And through this all, I thought of the most fanatical record collector I know, Mad Louis the Vinyl Junkie, in Buffalo, NY, who has never stopped collecting vinyl (and other media), and I dedicate this review to him.




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