As I ponder the hours creating and uploading documents, reformatting them, emailing and documenting electronically, I am reminded of John Naisbitt’s 1983 book, High Tech, High Touch. Required reading for my bachelor’s degree, it spoke to the pitfalls of lives dominated by technology, as well as an increased need for personal — and even tactile — connections.
In his article entitled, “13 Observations on Ritual”,
Ted Gioia talked about the need for regular, genuine ritualized practices in our postmodern world — and things like tapping and swiping on our phones, Binge-watching, Zoom, and FaceTime calls don’t cut it.
Perhaps the rituals associated with vinyl playback — unsheathing the disc, plattering, and wiping it, lowering the needle, admiring the large album cover’s artwork, and reading through liner notes — are, in part, responsible for the resurgence of the medium. In our driven, hyper-sensated society, it forces us to slow down. Of course, there’s the glorious and more natural warmth and roundness of analog recordings, which contrasts with the sharper-edged digital blaring from our devices, car radios, and workstations.
Also, I’ve found that, similar to reading an actual book or magazine versus from a phone or electronic device, there’s something to the tactile experience of holding the actual cover or leafing through booklets; and then there’s the olfactory stimulation of smelling the faint scent of the chemical compounds, the glue, the paper, cardboard, and ink. It’s familiar and comforting, taking us back to earlier life and childhood, when our imaginations and senses were sparked with newfound aural pleasures and experiences.
Either way, it’s a lovely diversion, and I’m looking forward to listening to more vinyl. Cheers!
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