Every Moment Has A Song

What is the appeal or value of vinyl in the digital age? In part, its “object-ness” in contrast to the non-thing that a digital music file is.

Think about it: your dad’s record collection most likely still exists. It’s either upstairs on shelves or in boxes, or has been traded in at some record store. Perhaps pieces have found their way by now into various collections of young hipster fans of old vinyl and have changed hands several times. But the objects that were your dad’s record collection are probably still around because they were objects. And because music in old formats is harder to delete than an mp3, which is always about 2 mouse clicks (or one fried hard drive) from non-existence.

The music playing on a vinyl record required your attention; you had to flip it or change it every 20 minutes or so. And that, combined with album art, lyric sheets, etc. made the listening experience a more engaging one generally, and may have led to a more intimate connection to the music than the iPod generation commonly makes. The digital music file can accompany you everywhere you go and be background to everything you do. But when was the last time you set aside time to just listen to your iPod? To oversimplify: vinyl listening was a more active experience, digital listening is more passive.

This short film is a little reminder of how art can lose a degree or aspect of its power to connect with us each time we find a seemingly more “perfect” format for its conveyance. Sometimes, as with 8mm film and even Polaroid photos, imperfection is an inseparable part of the art itself.

And if art is a reflection of life (which is imperfect) doesn’t art with imperfection make a more perfect reflection?