The Sustaining Market of Vinyl Records

A lot of people come into Sound Records and tell us how surprised they are by the resurgence of vinyl as a format. After all, the introduction of CDs, and more recently the dominance of streaming, should have meant the end of vinyl for good. So, what changed? Why has it lasted when the odds say it shouldn’t have? In this article, I’m trying to find out.

Looking at it objectively, it seems as though the universe wants vinyl to fail. There are fewer than ten major pressing plants in the world (as few as seven according to music magazine Super Deluxe Edition). All are pretty much at full capacity ー now, and for the foreseeable future. Apollo/Transco is a California plant that supplies, by some estimates, around 80% of all the lacquer discs required to press records. On top of pressing delays, this plant caught fire in early 2020 and shut down all production. According to their website at least, their future is still uncertain.

The Apollo/Transco fire, via Train Records

While major-label artists have to wait weeks for their records to be pressed, smaller or independent artists don’t stand a chance: earlier this year, some releases were delayed by up to five months. On one hand, some plants have installed more pressing machines, and some are bypassing lacquer discs altogether via a process called Direct Metal Mastering. On the other hand, the BPI (British Polyphonic Institute) says there are currently no plans for new plants to be built, despite the ever-increasing demand.

And yet, love for the format has only increased.

A pressing machine at The Vinyl Factory, the UK’s only major pressing plant

Experiencing the Music

We’ve talked time and time again on here about the love we have for the experience of vinyl records. That sense of direct connection with music and art follows everything we value and write about: from Jess Kneen’s love of film photography; to Meg Hindley’s passion for art in other physical forms: tattoo on skin or mural on concrete; to local bands BAAD ACID and Mad Daddy hearing their songs on vinyl for the first time; to the stories from everyone we’ve interviewed for our Meet the Collector series

The process of opening a record gives you a personal connection with the music. The album artwork, the sleeve, potential inserts and gatefolds ー it’s all part of the experience of vinyl. You have something to hold and examine while the music plays: maybe lyric sheets, exclusive photos, thank-yous from the artist.

I can’t help but think about the back cover of local psych legends BAAD ACID’s debut EP Aboo / Sound, with its row of cryptic numbers and lyrics rearranged in alphabetic order. Drummer Brian, who designed the sleeve, wanted to create an environment in which to digest the music, where you have to figure it out for yourself and come to your own conclusions. This design specifically was inspired by Stanley Donwood’s artwork for the Radiohead album Hail to the Thief, but the intention is universal: vinyl artwork has always been made as a visual accompaniment to the music.

The album cover in question.

We did a deep-dive into Aboo/Sound - BAAD ACID a couple of months ago.

Everyone reading this must know by now that sound quality is one of the main advantages of vinyl over digital. Originally, records were carved directly from an analogue source; thus, the sound on vinyl in those instances remains in its purest form. However, many new records are now made from digital masters anyway, so not all vinyl records are in a pure and lossless analogue format.

Still, even records made from digital formats retain that specifically “vinyl” quality. Vinyl has its own, distinctive sound, filled with that surface crackle, a pop or a distortion that you can’t help but be charmed by. There is a reason why some modern songs insert these sound effects intentionally, and it’s for more than just nostalgia. Listen to, for example, Troye Sivan’s interlude could cry just thinking about you, and you’ll hear a tape button press at the start and the end of the track. The Postal Service’s 2003 album Give Up features surface noise throughout. Madonna’s Erotica (NSFW link) uses this trope too, using vinyl crackles in the background as a way of enhancing sensuality. The Flaming Lips’ She Don’t Use Jelly ends with twenty five seconds of hissing and clicking, as if the stylus has just hit the record’s runout groove. Django Unchained OST has Quentin Tarantino actually placing the needle on the run-in track at the start of several songs. I could go on.

Record quality is evolving all the time too with new technology and research. While 180g vinyl may not imply a better sound quality as much as well-maintained equipment does, this modern standard weight is a lot more durable, less likely to crack or break. Hold an 180g record in your hand and you’ll understand the assurance. 

A busy day in Sound Records

Upstairs in Sound Records

Direct Support

Artists get basically no money from streaming ー especially independent ones whose labels don’t pay for them to appear on playlists. Even the claims around artist payout per stream ー ranging from $0.0008 on YouTube Music to $0.01284 on Tidal, with industry leaders Spotify and Apple Music sitting somewhere in the middle ー are arbitrary; rather, each artist just gets a percentage of the total revenue each platform decides to send out. Of course, this is before we consider cuts for labels executives, producers and writers. Ultimately, most artists don’t make any significant money from streaming in 2021.

However, during worldwide pandemics especially, artists don’t have many other sources of revenue. Once you put an LP on a turntable, it’s more effort to turn off or skip, and you end up sitting with the full album ー for better or worse. Conversely, streaming services encourage people to listen to music more fleetingly: on Spotify, it’s easier to flit between songs and to quit before an artist has finished their full statement. This has impacted how pop songs are written too: scared that they will lose their easily-distracted audience, songwriters feel they have no time for build-up; they have to capture their listeners’ attention immediately.

Furthermore, to take advantage of the payout system on streaming (and to hype up chart performance, which also counts per stream), music labels push for shorter, unsatisfying songs that people will listen to again and again. For me, the example that springs to mind is Good Ones by Charli XCX: with barely two choruses and a length of 2:16, the song is over too soon, and you press repeat to hear the hook again. So the manipulation works. After all, each stream creates revenue, however small.

I asked the Internet’s biggest pop music forum, r/popheads, about songs that suffer from being too short due to streaming demands and I got over 300 comments within 24 hours. New artists and those (whose labels are) pining for better chart performance featured heavily in the suggestions: think bedroom popstar Pink Pantheress, emerging gay icon Lil Nas X, or hyperpop queen Slayyyter.

Popheads discussing Charli XCX

It’s obvious from how they’re laid out that streaming services encourage playlists over albums. The biggest playlists are curated by algorithms, and you can’t trust an algorithm as much as you can trust a person (even if that person is yourself) to pick out music ー especially when you consider the allegations that labels pay for their artists to appear on playlists.

Admittedly, algorithms can be helpful sometimes, introducing you to new music. Before working at Sound Records (and still now to an extent), some of my favourite new discoveries ー from spooky EDM princess Kim Petras, to queen of the sad lesbians King Princess ー came in through streaming. However, it can sometimes be hard to keep track, and you can get overwhelmed by choices. Plus, if you decide to switch platforms, or realise you can’t afford your subscription (which can increase in price at any time), you lose everything. After all, streaming services essentially rent access to music, with most of that money going to a tech giant; if you stop paying, that access is lost.

With vinyl, your focus is clear. You decide what to put on, and once again, it’s right there in front of you. It can’t be taken away, because it’s yours. You can see it.

Ultimately, both methods of consuming music can work in tandem: you can stream an album before you decide whether or not you want to own it outright. Buying their vinyl record not only supports an artist financially, it tells them you value their art. Thereafter, you have access to it forever.

Idles’ Ultra Mono was voted Best Art Vinyl in 2020

Keeping it Local

In the modern world, you can’t avoid big tech: it’s how we consume media, and how we communicate with each other. You probably found this article through one of several social media sites owned by a certain tax-dodging multi-billionaire. Ultimately, we have to play the game to some degree or other in order to survive. However, we can do small things to offset our reliance on big tech.

Many record stores are independent, so by buying vinyl you are supporting a small business rather than a tech giant. The money then recirculates in your area, and builds your local economy.

In an increasingly fast and chaotic world, people take to vinyl as a refuge; records give people something that is missing. Sometimes you just need to turn your phone onto Do Not Disturb, make yourself a cup of tea, flick through your collection ー whether it be five records or five hundred ー and play yourself an album. Ultimately, vinyl is about connection: with the local record store and with the artist; with the music and with yourself. And that human need for connection never goes away.

Written by Owen Atkinson

References and further reading:

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