On the Record

Last time out the message was driven by anger and sadness and doubt. This time around I promise to stay lighter of heart. And next post I'll get back to the reviews and mini-essays, batteries all recharged. Oh, there'll still be some progressive commentary occasionally, given the world we live in and the sad record of human cupidity, but I'll cool it some too.

Meanwhile, for all us staunch fans of vinyl--those long-play "records," as I quaintly call them--some thoughts on production and distribution...

(Yes, it's another poem-like object, but this one just might leave you smiling.)

R.P.M.

Someone changed speeds.
16 going
at 33
through the hits years,
then 45
spinning faster...
and suddenly
78
circles close, my

revolutions
near run-off. What
was mastered on
virgin vinyl
got too much play--
gone scratched and worn
now, all highs and
lows diminished.
A melody

lingers faintly,
yet the lyric
no longer cuts
through. But listen:
I had impressed
upon me long
ago, "Playback
is all. Either
it's in the grooves,

or nothing. Take
your given turn
on the table
and then get off;
don't wait to be
rejected." Sound
advice. And so
as I spiral
faster and fast-

er to the spin-
dle hole silence,
I track one small
consolation:
while all these discs
grow more compact,
I have become
a collector's
item at last.