Analog versus Digital, man. Analog versus Digital. These simple words lead me to being awestruck by the thoughtfulness of others. If I may be specific, my eldest – my first son – has brought this upon me this year. I hate him for it – not really though. I love him for it.
My turntable gave out on me a few years back. It kinda hurt, but I resigned to it – for, we had already hit the digital age. I hadn’t purchased vinyl in years anyhow. Scratches, blips, skips and the like …
My wonderful son brought me back to myself … my real self – analog, raw, real, heck even a bit “dirty”. He bought me a new turntable for the new year. A nice fresh needle certain to bring clarity. He bought me a couple albums (new) that I had borrowed out in the past – never to see again. How rude to remind me of that which hurt me so at the time. How unkind to give me back that which I had forfeited – wishing to be returned, but never to be returned.
Onto the skinny: I love digitally recorded music. I love digital “remastering” – so clean, no skips, no dirt, no grunge – just the ideal of a musician’s/songwriter’s notion of artistry. My love for the digital still resides within me; however, it has been demoted. My ear as served by my memory has once again come alive. Rawness, dirt, that which is truly organic, that which is truly before me. No idyllic wash. The real world.
My son, I love you. I’m sorry I had forgotten myself.