Album Rituals

With today's online access to music via iTunes, certain rites of the past are fading quickly. In my high school days, the acquisition of new music was a near-religious ritual. I'm talking, of course, of the purchase of a bonafide wrapped-in-the-plastic freshly-stamped vinyl album. The golden age.

Albums generally were a themed creation as opposed to a collection of songs, with each side having a personality of its' own. In addition to the music, the artwork and contents of an album were of tremendous interest.

The "ritual" of acquiring a new album usually followed this general pattern:


1 - Flip through the stacks in the store to find the object of your hunt.

2 - Read every word on the outsie of the cover to affirm your willingness to buy.

3 - Pay (with cash) and be careful to avoid direct sunlight while driving directly home.


4 - Flip on the receiver and turntable, and find your very large Koss headphones.

5 - Carefully remove the plastic covering as if you're going to save it forever. Then discard it.

6 - Remove the album sleeve with the album still in it.


7 - With minimal touching (and only on the edge and center) remove and inspect the record.

8 - Gently lower it onto the turntable, and with the hands of a brain surgeon, lower the needle onto the space just before Side One, Track One.

9 - Play the recording loudly via headphones, and as it plays, inspect every detail of the cover and inside material.

10 - After listening to every track, silently prepare your review of the album, return it to its' jacket and cover, and file appropriately. Later, you'll copy the album, or maybe just certain tracks, to 8-track media for listening in your car.

iTunes is cool, but to me, the ritual of the album is hard to beat.