Your Friday discussion-starter...
In "Vinyl Junkies," Brett Milano consults with a psychiatric researcher to help understand his lifelong compulsion to buy records. The urge to collect, he learns, may come from a deficiency of serotonin, the enzyme that controls worries. It's an addiction for nail-biters.
Having lots of stuff can be strangely reassuring, especially when it's alphabetized. There's a tactile satisfaction to be had from flipping through old album covers, or shuffling piles of snapshots, hoping to rediscover an old keeper.
As art forms go, the art of collecting isn't particularly glamorous. Record collecting, writes Milano, has a dual nature: "It's pathetic and it's glorious. Yes, you're filling your life with extraneous stuff -- vinyl and aluminum slabs that will never transport you back to youth, or get you a hot date, or bring Nick Drake back to life. ... Never mind that you can't take it with you, you can't even find a tidy place to put it in the meantime."
Pile in!
No More Vinyl[B]
In "Vinyl Junkies," Brett Milano consults with a psychiatric researcher to help understand his lifelong compulsion to buy records. The urge to collect, he learns, may come from a deficiency of serotonin, the enzyme that controls worries. It's an addiction for nail-biters.
Having lots of stuff can be strangely reassuring, especially when it's alphabetized. There's a tactile satisfaction to be had from flipping through old album covers, or shuffling piles of snapshots, hoping to rediscover an old keeper.
As art forms go, the art of collecting isn't particularly glamorous. Record collecting, writes Milano, has a dual nature: "It's pathetic and it's glorious. Yes, you're filling your life with extraneous stuff -- vinyl and aluminum slabs that will never transport you back to youth, or get you a hot date, or bring Nick Drake back to life. ... Never mind that you can't take it with you, you can't even find a tidy place to put it in the meantime."
Pile in!
No More Vinyl[B]
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