7 inches of abandonment
Some of you may remember that I was systematically going through my 7" records, listening to them, and reviewing them. This is -- to me -- one of the most fun LJ practices: an ongoing project done for fun that --theoretically -- some other folks may enjoy reading about. Maybe it's a throwback to zines, but those are always my favorite type of entries.
Life circumstances made me abandon it. It's not worth mourning, it wasn't really that important, but I thought I would acknowledge it for the one or two of you who cared.
What I was trying to get at with those entries, besides cleaning out my record collection of junk I hadn't listened to for a decade, was the meaning of an ephemeral and outdated technology. The 7" in the punk world was very different from the 7" of the early '70s. It was the mark of being DIY and low budget instead of generating a secondary revenue stream. There was/is something so immediate and communal about the punk 7''. Often bought at a show, they bring back memories of time and place with more pinpoint precision than longer albums. Even the artwork is often more, well, arty.
For years I have wanted to have a "semi-soft 7 inch" party where I served semi-soft cheeses and played 7" records. But honestly, it's not super workable. I find the user un-friendliness of the 7" format -- getting up to change the record every 2-5 minutes -- endearing and even lovable, but still annoying.
I thought about proposing a 33 1/3 book at one point called something like "My 7" collection" but I don't think it would ever be accepted and, honestly, the more I read those 33 1/3 books the less I like them. And also, in this new world of immediate accessibility and obsession fulfillment, it feels good to speak softly about certain things I love.
As I was writing this I grabbed an old record at random. It's amazing how certain things are undisputed classics among a certain subset, and unknown outside that circle. Time and place, time and place. This is Led Zeppelin to me. (even if at the time I thought the beginning was a Jim Carroll "People Who Died" rip-off.)
Life circumstances made me abandon it. It's not worth mourning, it wasn't really that important, but I thought I would acknowledge it for the one or two of you who cared.
What I was trying to get at with those entries, besides cleaning out my record collection of junk I hadn't listened to for a decade, was the meaning of an ephemeral and outdated technology. The 7" in the punk world was very different from the 7" of the early '70s. It was the mark of being DIY and low budget instead of generating a secondary revenue stream. There was/is something so immediate and communal about the punk 7''. Often bought at a show, they bring back memories of time and place with more pinpoint precision than longer albums. Even the artwork is often more, well, arty.
For years I have wanted to have a "semi-soft 7 inch" party where I served semi-soft cheeses and played 7" records. But honestly, it's not super workable. I find the user un-friendliness of the 7" format -- getting up to change the record every 2-5 minutes -- endearing and even lovable, but still annoying.
I thought about proposing a 33 1/3 book at one point called something like "My 7" collection" but I don't think it would ever be accepted and, honestly, the more I read those 33 1/3 books the less I like them. And also, in this new world of immediate accessibility and obsession fulfillment, it feels good to speak softly about certain things I love.
As I was writing this I grabbed an old record at random. It's amazing how certain things are undisputed classics among a certain subset, and unknown outside that circle. Time and place, time and place. This is Led Zeppelin to me. (even if at the time I thought the beginning was a Jim Carroll "People Who Died" rip-off.)
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