My daughter and boyfriend made a quick trip home last weekend to visit and poke around our basement to see if her parent’s vinyl collection and turntable were worthy of resurrection. I’d say she hit solid gold!
Mr. E’ville quite easily retrieved from our overstuffed basement his parent’s turntable, LPs we both inherited from our parents, and albums I’d collected in my youth. The four of us spent quite some time exploring these gems spanning the decades. My mother had some Elvis and Tom Jones and my husband’s parents had some wonderful classical albums. My collection from the 70’s and 80’s stared back at me like old friends. I embraced each of them and their sentimental ties to squirreled away moments and the friends with whom I shared this music. Elton with Sue, Stevie with Michelle, Kenny with Chris, EW&F with Steve, Steve Martin with another Denise. Here it is Tuesday and I remain bouyant with these preserved memories.
These photos represent a few of the albums we combed through over the weekend. There may have been 40 or more and I look forward to listening to this music when we next visit Knoxville. I doubt I will ever have the time or give myself permission to lay on the floor, album cover in hand, and listen to every song on every album as I did when I was 16 years old. I know the artists sound different in their vinyl format compared to Spotify which is how I now listen to my music. I suspect the romantic quality of turntable music remains and perhaps why anyone gravitates back to these roots. What was stored in our basement for years my daughter gleefully carried home to incorporate into her world. I am grateful for these old friends who grew me through my rotations of musical exploration and am soothed knowing they are dusted off and playing it forward for my daughter and her cohort.
“Music is a language that doesn’t speak in particular words. It speaks in emotions, and if it’s in the bones, it’s in the bones.” – Keith Richards