Vinyl Records in the 21st Century: A Waste of Time (and Money)?

It is a strange concept to continue using something that has long been improved upon — I, for one, quickly phased out using my PIN number when contactless payments became the norm. I would, in theory, like to justify this oddity by stating that many people still drive (and enjoy) manual cars despite automatic equivalents being readily available. However, the use of vinyl records in 2024 might be more fittingly likened to arguing that a horse and carriage ought to be the best way to get around. 

In terms of simplicity, the digitalisation of the music industry has undoubtedly been for the betterment of the consumer. Never before has it been easier to take your music with you, as the object that we use the most (our phones) now contains almost every song ever released.  So why wouldn't you listen to all your music on your phone? And why would you pay nearly twice the amount of money for one album that you could pay to access every album ever made? I think that it is because, unlike automatic cars and bank cards, listening to music should be about a lot more than ease of access. 

The vinyl industry has seen seventeen years of consecutive growth since 2007, and in 2022, according to the RIAA Revenue Statistics Report, it outsold CDs for the first time since 1987. This might be attributed to a wider ‘vintage’ aesthetic trend, encompassing baggier clothes and film cameras amongst other things previously associated with past generations. However, it is equally possible that it represents a desire for the partial return of a music industry that provided a more tangible experience to the listener — one that allowed for the physical ownership of music rather than the subscription-based access model that we partake in today. 

As cliche as it sounds, there truly is something special in the physical thing. In the same way that real books are often preferred to ebooks, the process of taking the record out of its sleeve, placing it on the turntable, and hearing the crackle as it begins to play feels more substantial than pressing your finger on a screen. It is more thoughtful, more intentional, and in turn you cannot help but listen to the music. 

For me, as someone who collects second-hand records mostly from the 1960s and 1970s, it also comes down to what can be found through engaging with the past. It is the enjoyment felt in wandering aimlessly through record shops, the hopeful glance through the window every time I walk past Barnardo’s on Bell Street, and the excitement when I see something that I have been looking for. It is the thorough research process before submitting a bid on eBay, and the joy of listening to the artist’s music through the medium that they had in mind whilst looking at the cover that they intended for you to hold. And it is watching your grandparents do the jive to the old records they brought over for you on Christmas Day. 

There is certainly a time and a place for vinyl. I would not trade the widespread access to music we have as a result of digitalisation for a return to solely vinyl records. When I am working in the library, I am so very grateful for my phone and its library of music. However, in a streamlined world granting us immediate access to almost anything we could want, it is sometimes worth taking the extra steps to embark on a more physical and tangible journey to musical enjoyment. Perhaps the horse and carriage is better for some rides after all. It is a privilege in the present day to experience both the ease of Spotify when it is necessary and the richer experience of vinyl when there is time for it to be enjoyed. That is why I must say no — vinyl records are not a waste of time (or money) in the 21st century.

Photo by Bryn Carney