A Return To Vinyl

There is a certain irony in using a screen to announce a retreat from them, but lately I’ve been feeling a need for change. Toward the end of last year, I decided to shift my focus toward more “analog” pursuits: reading real books, journaling by hand, and listening to music the way I used to, on vinyl records.

My new setup is modest but intentional: a solid turntable paired with a small vacuum tube phono preamp, and a set of powered speakers I’ve owned for almost ten years.

There’s something fundamentally different about the listening experience when you can actually see the components working. I’ve spent the month revisiting a collection of mid-century jazz records that had been gathering dust in the basement.

After a proper cleaning, the sound is remarkable—not because it’s "perfect," but because it’s present. Sitting and just listening reminds me of the days when I would sit for hours just listening to music with no Internet to distract my attention.

It’s not that you can’t sit and listen to digital music, you certainly can. Listening on vinyl is different because it’s intentional. You select an album to listen to. You have to put the album on the turntable. You’ve got to move the arm to start things up. When one side is done you’ve got to get up and flip the album over. It’s a far more tactile and deliberate experience.

The next step is to buy some of my favorite albums from the past with an eye on albums where every song was great. Boston’s first self-titled album, Duran Duran’s Rio, Frank Sinatra’s Ring-a-ding-ding. So many choices!