An Epistle to Dipshit (me, fyi)
By: George Paaswell
Tags: Music, Capitalism, Music Business, Audiophile

(Photo by the author)

After 25 years, I upgraded my hifi, and spent a small fortune to do it. No, actually, I spent (for me), a large fortune. Latest technology electronics from Primera, actual floor-standing speakers from Wharfedale, an Intel NUC as my music server. I kept my turntable/needle, which was only five years old. Nothing from McIntosh, or Magneplanar, or audio cables that I’ve learned can cost more than what I spent on my new stereo. Seriously (https://www.audiogon.com/listings/lis9e1fa-synergistic-research-srx-power-cable-the-pinnacle-of-state-of-the-art-power-cables-ac-cables, and this isn’t even the most extreme), cables? People who know about this swear that cables make all the difference. I think this is where the ghost in the machine turns salesman, but the kind folks at the high-end audio shop in which I dipped my toe, and by “dipped my toe,” I mean dove in, say that when selling a system that costs upwards of half-a-million dollars, spending $10k or more on cables really amounts to just a rounding error.

But I love the upgrade. I’ve discovered the world of digital playback and high-end streaming, and it’s been eye-opening, or ear-opening. There is a world of difference between a FLAC version of The Good Earth and the AAC version I had been listening to, even a difference between that and the Coyote/Bar None CD release of a few years ago (not much, but hi-def audio is a thing, and it’s noticeable). So, needless to say, big changes were underfoot. With this new audio bandwidth available at my fingertips I made a few decisions.

The first, and best of the two, is that I was going to focus much more on vinyl for the music that was important for me to possess. I’ve had my record collection for 40+ years, and now was not the time to forsake it. Since moving to LA in 2014, I’ve purchased vinyl almost exclusively, but not quite. My CD collection continued to grow because the media was still the least expensive, and streaming — even high quality — seems just so unfair to the artists whose music I like.

This past spring, I spent four months in Syracuse, NY, for work, and during that time, I spent close to $1k on vinyl Seems like a lot, sure. The beauty is I was able to buy — in good+, very good, or very good+ condition — original surf and garage releases that would’ve cost four times what I paid had I bought them here, or in NY, or really, anywhere. If they weren’t original releases, they were original pressings of re-issues, particularly the “rare” rockabilly and ’50s “punk” that Ace, Stag-O-Lee, or New Rose was releasing. I focus my buying on original pressings of surf bands, popular or otherwise, as I’ve come to really love that category. And … I’ve recently discovered Mexican/Latin American surf bands from the 60s through to today, and wow, it’s amazing how much fun that music is.

The second decision I made, though, has left me disheartened and pissed off at the record industry, and feeling like an idiot (which, to be honest, doesn’t require a big push). I want to sell my CDs, all of them. I’ve curated a collection I love, but I either have what I want on vinyl (still, or again, depending), or, if it isn’t essential-to-own work, I will stream it via Tidal HiFi or Apple Music. I finally got the kids their own Spotify so they don’t clog my library with their favorite tracks. Yes, I love that they love music enough to care about it, but not so much that our tastes overlap beyond the occasional song. Also, I don’t own a CD player any more save the Apple SuperDrive that I use to burn or rip discs.

There’s a website (of course) that caters to record collectors and vendors called Discogs.com, which I discovered as I looked for album art to add to the discs I’d ripped onto my hard drive. This past month I started cataloguing my CDs to assess their value and the possibility that I could sell them. Well, thank god I didn’t plan my retirement on their lasting value. Even the rare and hard to find are worth pennies on the dollar. CDs I thought were sooooo essential to buy and own turn out to have the value of a shiny coaster. They are unreliable as a storage medium, and don’t sound as good as re-mixed and/or re-mastered versions available to stream. So, yeah, the tens of thousands of dollars, hours, and psychic energy I put into amassing the collection I have would’ve been better off spent learning to play the songs I really love.

A note about archiving and our collective memory: As is happening in the film business, there is a concerted effort to make sure that the popular music of the American Century and onward is collected and preserved. And as is also happening in the film industry, we are discovering that much of what we want to save and keep is not on a medium conducive to saving and keeping. Compact discs? Apparently, they can oxidize and decay, and who knows what codecs we will have in the future which to use for their playback? Flash memory is still in its infancy, but we don’t know whether that will last. But vinyl records? Vinyl records require only mechanical know-how to play them back. If in some post-apocalyptic world technology is lost to us, but we discover a hidden cache of Ventures records, all we need is the ability to spin the discs at 33 1/3 RPM, a needle to put in the groove, and something to amplify the vibrations of said needle. If, on the other hand, we find a cache of Backstreet Boys CDs, who will build the laser we need to bounce of the disc that must spin at thousands of RPMs? And who will build the circuitry to transcode digital to analog electric impulses? And so on.

But back to my collection: Sure, most of it is pure shit (I can’t remember the last time I played The Best of Altered Images, I haven’t even ripped it onto my hard drive), but there’s about 10% to 20% that’s really really good.

We were sold such a bill of goods about the virtue of CDs, and what’s worse, I was an early-adopter, buying them as early as 1985 (I’ve bought and sold Big Star’s №1 Record/Radio City at least three times: the first version was unlistenable: engineers just discovered all this un-tapped high-end they could push the mix into; the second version didn’t contain ST100 or In The Streets, the third version was fine, but then along came all the new special packaging). If I listed my entire Clash collection — a band that released six or eight studio records, depending on how you count their first record, or whether you count their last — I’d probably have 70 or 80 titles. Who am I kidding: I know exactly how many titles I have, and why I have each of them, including four different versions of London Calling. AS CDs!!! Not even vinyl. I have three as vinyl, FYI.

So this is my lament, my rant. I’m pissed at the record companies and their devilish marketing preying on my fandom. I’m pissed at the flaws in my own character for believing them. And I’m pissed that record stores that gladly sold me the discs for $5, $10, $20, or more, may — MAY — give me about ten-cents to a dollar for something that Discogs says is worth between $10k and $40k.

But other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, what’d you think of the show?