Back in the day, when I was in my twenties (which wasn’t all that long ago, thank you very much), record albums – those large, 12-inch disks encased in cardboard sleeves – were how we listened to music. The cover art! The posters and booklets inside! The liner notes!

I miss all of that.

I don’t just miss the music – the wonderful, sometimes iconic, analog music – I miss the packaging. I miss holding an album cover in my hands, flipping it over to read the liner notes, looking at the band’s photo, or reading through the track listing.

Those record sleeves proved useful in other ways besides protecting the vinyl grooves from dirt and dust.  Some people (not me, of course) used the crease inside double album covers to, erm…clean their weed of debris. I’ll wager there’s probably many a copy of “Frampton Comes Alive,” the Beatles’ “White Album,” or Pink Floyd’s “The Wall” that still has tiny bits of green stuff clinging inside.

Rock songs were the soundtrack to our lives.  They became our anthems, from Springsteen’s “Born in the USA”  and Patti Smith’s “Because the Night” to Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin'” and Queen’s “We Will Rock You.”  We sang them at the top of our lungs.  We sang them when we were too drunk to enunciate properly.  We sang them in our cars or in the shower with (or so we imagined) great emotive skill and passion.

If you went to a party, there was always music. And if you weren’t particularly enjoying the party, or you just didn’t feel like talking, or if you were flying solo and no one caught your romantic fancy, you could wander over to the record player and have a riffle through the host or hostess’s album collection.

I met more interesting people hanging out by the record bin than I ever did on the dance floor.

My boyfriend at the time had very definite ideas on how record albums should be handled. They should be stored upright on a shelf, NOT stacked. They should be handled by the edges. They should be cleaned with a soft, non-scratchy cloth before and after each use. Audio equipment should consist of quality components – receiver, equaliser, turntable, speakers.

Needless to say, he regarded my cheap, all-in-one record changer/cassette player/radio with scorn. So we went to Heathkit, a build-your-own audio components store, and bought an equalizer kit. The circuit board had to be assembled and the parts put together first. (He was a computer/audio geek. What can I say? The couple who builds circuit boards together, stays together. Although…we didn’t. But that’s another story.)

I was really proud of that self-assembled equalizer. It did its job well, for many years.

I still can’t listen to songs I grew up with without flashing to certain times, or certain days or moments, in my life. For example:

Riding down the George Washington Parkway on a Sunday afternoon in my best friend’s Trans Am, blasting the stereo? –  Fleetwood Mac (“World Turning,” “Second Hand News,” “The Chain”), the Doobie Brothers (“Another Park, Another Sunday,” “China Grove”), Van Halen (“Jamie’s Crying,” “Panama”).

Driving around in my first car (a blue Camero LT), chewing bubblegum? – Joe Walsh (“Life’s Been Good”); Rick Springfield (“Jessie’s Girl”); Tommy Tutone (“867-5309/Jenny”).

Getting ready to go out on Friday night? – Blondie (“Sunday Girl,” “Heart of Glass,” “Rapture”); The Cars (“My Best Friend’s Girl,” “Just What I Needed”); and pretty much anything by Boston (“More Than a Feeling,” “Rock and Roll Band,” “Home Tonight”).

Feeling cerebral? – Talking Heads (“Psycho Killer,” “Burning Down the House”), or anything by Yes, King Crimson, or Emerson, Lake and Palmer.

Pissed off at my boyfriend? – Linda Ronstadt (“You’re No Good”); The Clash (“Train in Vain”); Soft Cell (“Tainted Love”); Bon Jovi (“You Give Love a Bad Name”); Tom Petty (“Listen to Her Heart”).

Somehow, downloading a music file to an iPod just isn’t the same. It doesn’t sound the same. The analog warmth and richness is missing. There are no clever liner notes written by Lester Bangs or Dave Marsh or Cameron Crowe. There is no amazing art work by the likes of Roger Dean (Yes), Hipgnosis (Pink Floyd), Andy Warhol (Velvet Underground), Robert Crumb (Big Brother and the Holding Company), or Al Hirshfeld (Aerosmith). Cover art, as noted by artist/designer Peter Saville (Roxy Music, New Order), is dead.

But at least the music, whether on vinyl, CD, cassette, or MP3, lives gloriously on.

♥ ♥ ♥     ♥ ♥ ♥     ♥ ♥ ♥

A Message From Kennedy Ryan

April is Autism Awareness month. That might not even register on some people’s radars, but my family has lived with Autism for the last 11 years, since my son was diagnosed. My book WHEN YOU ARE MINE releases June 17 and provides a unique opportunity for me to combine my passion for writing and Autism advocacy. I’m donating 25% of my royalties from this book to resourcing families living with Autism. 

Learn more about Autism and the 1 in 68 children diagnosed from my charitable partner, Talk About Curing Autism (TACA).

Celebrate all the gladiators out there – kids, adults, families, siblings – living with Autism by entering the Autism Awareness Giveaway (below)! Great cause! Great prizes!

Thank you!

Kennedy Ryan