Once There Was a Tune (How to bury the lead at the bottom of a blog)

Yeah, the title was "borrowed" from Larry Norman. Once upon a time, not too long ago, but actually quite a while ago now, I used to write a lot. I liked to think I had something to say about the music I listened to and the musicians I admired..

I had a website and everything. Then, one day, there was an issue with my provider and I let my domain lapse. I wasn't too worried, I had my backups. However, a while ago, I discovered that my backups were corrupt and a decade's worth of content was gone. There are still bits and pieces of my musical reviewing hubris out there, but it's mostly just a happy memory now.

As I got older and less relevant, my passion for music remained, but I found myself further and further removed from anything current, and I really had nothing left to say. There were only so many ways to say "meh" when listening to a lot of new music.

When I was younger, I had a lot of records. To me, it was a lot, just under a thousand, collected mostly new, with a few used thrown in for fun. They took up a lot of room and eventually, through a terrible accident back in the nineties involving a crawl space and a broken sump pump, I was left with a couple of dozen salvaged records that sat in a box for a couple of decades, because I just didn't listen to my old records. When CDs came out, I jumped on that bandwagon, hard, to get away from the pops and clicks that drove me crazy, and for quite a few years, went a little crazy. I still have a couple of thousand hanging on shelves in my studio. They look impressive, but I have a little solid-state drive smaller than my mouse that holds all of it in digital form, and honestly, there's a lot of stuff that never gets played - a lot.

What I missed from my vinyl was the gatefold, the large cover, the liner notes, the readable lyric sheets, the credits, and the thank-you sections. What I didn't miss was the sound. Oh, I know there are those who will go on about the warmth and all that. Fine, you do that. I applauded the new kids who recorded in digital, then wanted a vinyl release. I became a grumpy old fart who loved to shit on those who were on the vinyl bandwagon, waving the vinyl flag.

Then, a couple of years ago, we finished the basement, and I set up my old stereo and turntable. I went looking for my little box of vinyl, and after blowing out a few spider skeletons and bits of dust, I set them up on a shelf. The few I had managed to save had special meaning, so I looked for something to put on. With a pop and a click and the occasional tick, I sat in my chair for 22 minutes and read along while the music played. I was transported back to a place and time when I was excited to hear things from start to finish. Then I had to get up and turn the record over and hear the rest. I still hated the clicks and pops, but there was something calming and familiar too. I let it slide. I just made it part of the experience

My wife noticed too, and immediately said, "You're not going to go out and collect records."

I sheepishly looked at her and pointed to the small area of available space on the shelf. "I won't," I assured her. My fingers were crossed.

I try not to get anything I already have on CD or digital, but I do on occasion. I don't buy new vinyl, unless I find older sealed stuff, but even then it's not often. What I look for are the clearance bins; the dollar store castoffs, the stuff that's been well-loved and is one step from a dumpster. I have a few cleaning systems at home, and while I'm no expert in water baths or solutions, ultrasonic tech, or vacuum systems, I have enough stuff to get things relatively clean. Sometimes I'm able to get things to where I can listen and enjoy, even with the clicks and pops that are inevitably still present.

It's my happy place.

I still get a giggle out of new vinyl releases and how expensive they are. I'm still a grumpy old fart in that regard who doesn't get it. But, I suppose if you're happy, I'm happy for you.

Me, I'm in the weeds looking for lost treasures and things I haven't heard from my youth. Lend me your ears, and I'll sing you a song... yeah, I borrowed that too.

Styx - Paradise Theater

Styx was hands down one of my favourite bands as a kid. They were a strange band, even back then. They were a hard rock band, almost progressive at times, who had a penchant for sucky ballads. I know there's a tendency for people to zero in on "Babe" as the song that killed the band's credibility. The roots go way back to almost the beginning when Styx released "Lady" on their second album. It showed a side to the band that needed to be kept in check, and for the most part the band kept things on a pretty tight leash. The band had been setting a gruelling pace, releasing an album a year (two in 1972) and by the time they released Paradise Theater (if I end up writing theatre later it's because that's how we spell it here) in 1981 they'd dropped ten albums in less than a decade. I snapped this up as soon as I saw it, and it became a fixture on my turntable. Like the band had announced on "Borrowed Time" from 1979's Cornerstone , ...

David Baerwald - Bedtime Stories

The little sticker on the shrinkwrap says, "You may remember David Baerwald from David & David's Boomtown ..." You bet, I remembered David Baerwald. Back in 1986 Boomtown was an album with moments of sheer brilliance. The whole album may not have been as top shelf as the first few tracks, but that didn't matter - it is an excellent album. I waited for a follow-up ... and waited, and then in 1990 it was a solo David, David Baerwald, who dropped Bedtime Stories . I snapped it up. "All For You," the opening cut, is still my favourite song on the album. It was mesmerizing. I'm not sure if the song got any airplay, it may have, but that may have been wishful thinking on my part as it was on a lot of mix tapes at the time and I heard it a lot in the car. The CD had a great booklet with all of the musician credits and lyrics. Oddly, when I found a sealed copy of the record (a great score), it just had a plain paper insert - the picture of David walking wit...

Gary Numan - The Pleasure Principle

"Cars" was really the only song I knew by Gary Numan. I knew the name of the album the song came from. Over the years bits and pieces of trivia are accumulated, but in terms of his music it was still distilled down to one song ... It would be too easy to write Mr. Numan off as a one hit wonder, and I suppose in terms of actual chart hits this was his defining moment as a solo artist. Of course this really means nothing, as Gary Numan would drop an album a year pretty much through to the end of the '80s. He'd then slow down a little but continued to make music. While The Pleasure Principle was Gary Numan's debut solo release in '79, he actually cut his teeth on a couple of albums in a band called Tubeway Army, first with the band's self-titled release in 1978, and then on Replicas that came out in April of '79. By the end of Tubeway Army's run most of the band would follow Gary into his solo career. Paul Gardiner, who had been with Gary from the b...

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