As I mentioned in my book review last week, I'd been reading a non-fiction book of late, something that I rarely do. It's not that I don't like informative real life stories, it's just that I've always found the inner world of the imagination more interesting, probably because I've always felt more at home there. But every once in a while, I do like to read non-fiction, and usually when I do, it has something to do with music. This is a book that passed to me from a friend who is aware of my vinyl record addiction. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
(Plume Books, 2016)
The premise of this book reminds me of a line from written by John Frusciante:
"Sold all my records,
What a stupid thing to do.."
(from "Montreal" by Ataxia)
This is the thought that suddenly strikes Eric Spitznagel in his forties. It wasn't really a conscious decision to sell all of his records, it was just something that happened during the passage of time. Records gave way to CDs, and then the convenience and mobility of digital music. What would be the reason to hold onto these artifacts, especially when a few dollars might needed here or there?
This is the story of a man in search of what his lost. It is a story about getting caught up in the wave of time, drifting along for the ride without giving much thought to the meaning of things. The records Eric searches for are a search for memories, a search for the past and what once was but now is lost. It attempts to answer the question of whether or not we go back and re-capture these things.
The records are more than a metaphor, or a symbol, they act like a talisman...a physical object that awaken something deep inside us. Though Eric is successful in finding some of the records he owned in his youth, he discovers that certain things are lost forever, but that's okay. Memories are a part of life, but life is not meant for living in memories.
It reads like a delightful scavenger hunt for beloved objects and the meaning of life.
"Sold all my records,
What a stupid thing to do.."
(from "Montreal" by Ataxia)
This is the thought that suddenly strikes Eric Spitznagel in his forties. It wasn't really a conscious decision to sell all of his records, it was just something that happened during the passage of time. Records gave way to CDs, and then the convenience and mobility of digital music. What would be the reason to hold onto these artifacts, especially when a few dollars might needed here or there?
This is the story of a man in search of what his lost. It is a story about getting caught up in the wave of time, drifting along for the ride without giving much thought to the meaning of things. The records Eric searches for are a search for memories, a search for the past and what once was but now is lost. It attempts to answer the question of whether or not we go back and re-capture these things.
The records are more than a metaphor, or a symbol, they act like a talisman...a physical object that awaken something deep inside us. Though Eric is successful in finding some of the records he owned in his youth, he discovers that certain things are lost forever, but that's okay. Memories are a part of life, but life is not meant for living in memories.
It reads like a delightful scavenger hunt for beloved objects and the meaning of life.
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