March 12 2003

By the time I was eight, I loved rock and roll like life itself, full-time, so hard that I prayed for songs like they were flesh and blood. When my favorites played on the radio, I'd get scared my swelling heart was going to explode. Put me in a car in those days and my hand was glued to the dial. Lousy AM reception, mono, my dad's noise complaints – nothing bothered me, because I knew truth lurked beneath the interference, not in it. Finding it was all about deep listening. With this history, it's no wonder my home stereo sucks, and I couldn't care less about the vinyl-versus-CD debates.

But I'm not too proud to admit when I'm wrong about something. And even though I'm as old as dirt, my mind's still young, which explains what happened when I put the vinyl reissue of Otis Redding's fabulous In Person at the Whisky a Go Go on the turntable and flipped the switch. Suddenly the rich, powerful groove of "Can't Turn You Loose" jumped out from the speakers, the horns snuck in next, and then there was Redding, stepping forward to sing "I can't turn you loose girl / 'Cause if I do I'll ..." He rode the rhythm section up one wall and down the other, jabbing back at the horns, and singing with a warmth and passion that made my hair stand up. Five minutes later, when Redding roped in the band before letting the ache of "Pain in My Heart" slow him down, I realized my mistake and repented. Life, from that moment on, was all about vinyl.