Vino and Vinyl

I recently had a bit of down time. When it started, I thought I'd make a serious dent in that ever-present to-do list that we all have.

Tops on mine was to alphabetize and cull my CD collection. A recent move had forced some 800 CDs into a few large boxes and, well, their lack of organization was nagging at me. But as I opened the first few boxes to dig in, I came across something else: the last remnants of my vinyl collection.

I realized I suddenly had a new item on my to-do list. And so despite my initial good intentions, I went down the vinyl rabbit hole instead.

Vinyl is for many people esoteric and outdated. An iPod allows us to instantly thumb through a few thousand songs. But as I successively cleaned and played through my vinyl records, I couldn't help but realize how their enjoyment was so similar to that of wine.

First, there's the byzantine labyrinth of releases, pressings and reissues for any given album. Tracking the matrix codes (stamped on the dead wax in the center ring of each LP) is just as head scratchingly arcane as trying to figure out which producer makes the best Gevrey-Chambertin Cazetiers in Burgundy. Tracking down a good copy of that best-sounding version is like trying to find that highly rated, 150-case production wine. The fun is as much in the hunt as anything else.

Vinyl lovers obsess over their sound systems the way wine lovers do over their stemware and decanters. We want the record to sound as good as possible, so we tinker endlessly to achieve that. Whether it's a pricey stylus for your turntable's tone arm or a new set of Riedels, gramophiles and enophiles are often willing to use some technical wizardry to get the best possible experience. We're purists, but not luddites.

And then there are the liner notes, which are like tasting notes. They both might come off as utter silliness to the uninitiated, but if you read them enough, they can become tantalizing and alluring. As wine tasting notes should inspire you to try a wine, good liner notes inspire and spur you to buy the artist's other records. Case in point: The famous jazz pianist Les McCann wrote the liner notes for Roberta Flack's First Take (1969), noting, "Her voice touched, tapped, trapped, and kicked every emotion I've ever known ... she alone had the voice." And now I've got eight Flack albums on vinyl and play them often. Talk about going down the rabbit hole.

In the end, an LP is something you listen to from start to finish, as it was intended. You can't skip ahead or shuffle the tunes at the click of a button. And yes, every 20 minutes or so you have to get up and flip the record over-no remote control. It's an experience that requires you to participate. Listening to an LP is the equivalent of sitting down with a bottle of wine and enjoying it over an hour or two or three, as it was intended to be.

I guess linking wine and good music is an easy connection to make. But having missed it up until now only underscores the value in taking a break to slow down once in a while.