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Wildblood wonders is it time it cherish those 7 inches while we can

Is to share to really care?

Kate Wildblood

Saturday, 17 April 2010

I like so many other vinyl addicts have been celebrating National Record Store Day be it in Blur-ry queues or online reminisce sessions. Seems so many of us are regretting the demise of the local record emporium and have taken this opportunity to relish the good old days, dust off the longplayers and marvel at the 12 inches in our hands.

But does that make us inhabitants of la-la-land, Luddite in our attitudes and backward looking in our thoughts?. It’s not easy to say. As much as I appreciate the lower cased i-Things in my life I can’t help but think the days of saving to collect that rare slice of black round stuff are sorely missed. Mr Fuller and his Brighton Urban Records enriched my life in so many ways be it as a supplier of the finer stuff (house music that is) or the provider of much needed sanity in a world of DJ egos and headline dramas. Yes my bank manager may not miss those trips to my local record shop but I sure do.

Maybe that’s the reason so many miss the old days. The money. Where once share seemed to mean you care, today to share is to kill. Well almost. Yes it’s easy to feel justified in ripping off the megabucks music labels latest offerings (they won’t notice surely?) but it’s the small boys who are paying the true price of our sharing nature. Gaga & Co mightn’t feel the drop in royalties but their record corporation will use that same drop in sales to justify a lack of investment in the newbie’s and the daring. Sure there’s online ventures that allow up and coming acts to share the care they’ve taken in their debut album but how can they pay the roadie bill on the back of several clicks on the 'like' button?

Today most record companies that send me promo copies of albums for review are ultra paranoid about piracy. You’re sent collections of tracks either chopped into 2 minute edits or enhanced with a Stephen Hawkins style voice over. The effect sees you soon pressing eject with the chances of you giving a reflective and fair review practically nil. In the DJ world the advent of CDJ’s meant less broken backs and greater access to tunes, no matter what your status on the club scene, but did that freedom come with the loss of the all knowing record store guy, the skill of finding tunes no-one else has and the ability to provide the dancefloor with a truly original sound?

A recent survey highlighted on BBC2’s The Noughties asked the public how much would they play for a tune? And the answer? The researchers reckoned it would be a average of 67p. They guessed wrong. It was nowt. Nothing. Nil pence. Seems we value tunes as much as we value most online content nowadays. We want it now and we’re not paying.

A very 21st century outlook? Maybe. But as we get freed up are we losing something special? I reckon we are and so tonight will raise a glass to those independent record shops still opening their doors. Yes we’re all guilty to the odd dodgy copy or shared file but isn’t it time we took stock before the bailiffs take stock off the independents? To paraphrase a tune by Janet Jackson I paid £3.99 for in the early 1990’s, maybe the best things in life aren’t free.

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