Keep the Turntables Turning
How physical music stays alive in a digital age
By Kayna Dean


Sam Fox was 9 years old when he first discovered vinyl music.
“I vividly remember having my CD Walkman, and I was listening to this Nelly song and walking around. It had a record scratch in it and I just thought it sounded really cool,” the Issaquah native recalled. “I went home and I was like, ‘Hey mom, do you have a record player?’”
Now 22, the Bellingham resident reminisces on music’s impact on his childhood while waiting for a barista to call his drink. It’s not coffee, even though he loves the taste of it. Coffee makes him jittery.
“My mom took me to Holy Cow Records at Pike Place Market, where I bought Akon and Young Jeezy’s ‘Soul Survivor’ on vinyl,” he said. “I was like, ‘Oh, this is a hip-hop record! I gotta buy it!’ So I bought it and took it home. I set up my mom’s turntable and just scratched the record up, which was horrible for both the record and her old turntable and stylus.”
That’s when he realized hip-hop beats are made by sampling records. Find an old record, loop it, chop it, make an entirely new song. This flipped a switch for Sam.
“12-ounce hot chocolate!” the barista called out.
“Oh, that’s me,” Sam says, getting out of his chair. His baggy black sweatshirt drowns his thin frame.
He slowly walks back, ringed fingers gripping a mug.
“This is exciting,” he says as he sits back down. “So yeah, that was when it started really.
I was buying records to sample them and just slowly over time that evolved into a bigger interest in music.”
Searching for genres like jazz and funk expanded into finding more obscure music from Ghana and Thailand. His collection expanded quickly, thanks to record store dollar bins and funding from his job at a pizza place in high school.
Though he doesn’t sample records anymore, Sam still buys records just to listen to them — and he listens to music constantly. His morning routine consists of waking up and playing a record on his Technics SL-1200, the original from 1972 he stole from his friend’s dad’s attic. He’s had it for six years now, and no one has noticed it’s missing.
With the turn of the decade came a turn toward digitized music, leaving physical music feeling forgotten. Half of the recording industry’s global revenues in 2016 came from digital revenue, followed by only 34 percent coming from physical format sales like CDs and vinyl.
OK, that’s still a third of the market’s revenue so physical media can’t be completely dead. So what’s the big deal?
According to IFPI’s 2018 Music Consumer Insight Report, 86 percent of music listeners rely on streaming services for their tunes. It’s easy, convenient and accessible. You can play your favorite artist’s new album with the tap of a finger.
With listening to music being so streamlined now, it can be hard to care about music sales coming from CDs and vinyl. Whether paying close attention or not, these physical music sales have dropped 5.4 percent in the past two years.
But for collectors like Sam, vinyl matters. Vinyl is a hobby, a creative outlet, a piece of history and a community.
Sam said he would be devastated if physical music wasn’t around. Vinyl carries something deeper than streamed music does.
“They’re physical documents of really deep human expressions, and something about them being physical feels a little more substantial than clicking a song on your iPhone,” he said. “I don’t know if that’s just romantic or if I just feel like it’s bigger because I love records, but I would hope that in the future kids are still interested in it because I think it’s rad.”
One of the best parts of the process is what avid collectors call “the dig,” according to Sam. It’s looking in your local used record stores, in dollar bins and at thrift stores. It’s always a surprise what you’ll find — and for $2 at that.
It’s when records start to get to the $15-$20 range where Sam likes seeing a listening station in the store. And if they don’t have one?
“I’ll pull out my phone and be like, ‘Is this on YouTube?’” He smirks. “It’s ironic and hilarious.”
Sam says streaming and listening to vinyl offer different experiences, though he admits he streams music just as much as anyone else. Streaming a new album often means listening to the first 10 seconds of a song, skipping to the chorus, moving to the next song, repeat.
But listening to a record means listening to an album in its entirety and taking in the comprehensive story the songs offer. Listening to a record means good memories of sitting on the couch with someone and appreciating the money spent for the experience. Listening to a record means being part of something bigger.
“The majority of new friends I’ve made in the last few months are like 60 years old because those are the people that run record stores right now,” he said. “That’s really a generalization, but most of the people that I’ve met and have been buying records from and who are most excited to talk about music with me are older folks. It’s just connected me with a lot of new people.”
Friendship in the vinyl community come pretty organically. You walk into a record store asking about a specific gem you want to add to your collection. That ask may or may not be fruitful for what you’re looking for, but you’ll certainly get a recommendation for something similar. You’ll get some good conversation too.
“Right now, music is one of the only opportunities I have to meet people, and if I wasn’t buying records I don’t know what I’d be doing,” he said.
Though streaming remains king in this digital-era and over half of young adults would choose it as their only method for music listening, remember there’s more to vinyl than just, well, music.
Physical music gives community. Physical music drives passion.
“Well I’ve got some extra time before work, so I’m going to do a little digging,” Sam says as he gets up from his chair.
He walks out the door, covering his long locks of brown hair with his hood. He goes down about half a block and enters Avalon Records.