Please, Come In.

It arrived on my doorstep in a skinny 12” x 12” box. My first ever purchase of a new LP.

That afternoon, I fell in love.

I sat in front of my record player, carefully peeled back the plastic packaging of my new record and took a moment to admire the glossy cover. I was curious to know why the artist chose the ominous picture he did to grace the front of his first solo project.

The freshness of the binding made an inviting crack when it opened and exposed the artwork inside. I turned the sleeves over to study Side A and Side B, taking a moment to ponder the mood of the album based on song titles alone.

I propped open the back cover, pinched the edge of the vinyl between my thumb and index, and slid the music from its home into my palms. It was beautiful. I questioned whether I should even play it, and answered myself quickly.

My turntable clicked and the record anxiously spun. I held my breath and set the needle in the groove.

For the next hour and a half I laid on my living room floor, and inhaled every last lyric of the beautifully crafted album, Keep it Hid.

Vinyl is warm. Vinyl is engaging.

Vinyl welcomes patience and vinyl scolds haste.

March 2nd, 2009