-CD Title, Big Black, 1988

Does anyone recall the eight-track tape? In the early 1970s, it was touted as the next (and last) great leap forward in audiophile bliss. The loop of magnetic tape that played over and over again and permanently ingrained bands like Spirit and Grand Funk Railroad (mostly, it has been suggested, because you never had to break from your stoned reverie to change the tape, no matter how bad it was) in our collective national consciousness was the cat's meow in the seventies. Cadillacs had them installed as standard equipment, while they were expensive options in Fords. Thousands, nay, millions, of them were sold to happy listeners everywhere.

The record industry pushed the eight-track out without much thought about the drawbacks inherent in that format. Eight-tracks were bulky, about two-and-a-half times the size of cassettes, and did not allow the relative ease of access to specific songs which cassettes and albums did. The packaging itself was generally poor, consisting of a low-budget label slapped on the plastic case of the eight-track, featuring a small reproduction of the LP jacket art and a track listing. Songs sometimes had short gaps while the tape shifted to another program.

Nonetheless, the record companies (and the manufacturers of stereo equipment) pushed the eight-track out for the simple economic reasoning behind introducing a new variation of any product - there is money to be made. People who were convinced that the eight-track was the next generation swiftly moved to replace their existing collections of albums and cassettes with the new format, at the same time they purchased new eight-track tape players. Consumers could be convinced to duplicate their album purchases on eight-track tape for the portability of the latter. In short, the record companies had nothing to lose with the eight-track and everything to gain.

Sadly, unlike its predecessors, the 45rpm record, the 33rpm record, and the compact cassette (and more abstractly, the Edsel), the eight-track tape did not catch and today can mostly be found for about a dime each at garage sales and thrift stores.

It is this reasoning which has led to the latest audiophile end-all - the digital Compact Disc. CDs provide solutions to the problems of the eight-track tape. Unlike the eight-track, there is a real and audible improvement in sound quality, rather than in physical packaging. They provide instantaneous access to songs. They are, as their name states, compact, and provide a much more attractive package than the clunky old eight-track. In addition, record companies have hit upon the marketing scheme of including bonus tracks on the CD which are unavailable elsewhere. Because CDs are virtually damage-proof, record companies can justify charging nearly twice the cost of a vinyl LP owing to lack of planned obsolescence in CDs. The CD provides benefits for both the money-hungry record companies and the aural-improvement hungry fans.

However, the record companies have taken this as an opportunity to sound the death knell for vinyl records. Industry analysis in Rolling Stone and Billboard suggest that major labels will discontinue pressing vinyl LPs in 1990 or 1991.

This should not be.

While it seems likely that the people who will be affected by the majors' decision to drop vinyl - that is, the people who buy such major-label tripe as Debbie Gibson - will have already purchased CD players, consumers who do not wish to join the digital revolution should not be forced to discontinue their preference for vinyl as long as the only call for this transfer has been from the companies themselves and not the consumers.

Bonus Fat - Following such a one-sided attack on the whole digital thang, I thought I'd append a list of the five or so records I would happily own on disk if I didn't find it so morally repugnant.

Love - Forever Changes : The best acid relic from those nutty hippie days. Still sounds undated, except for some titles, "The Good Humor Man He Sees Everything Like This" and "Maybe The People Would Be The Times Or Between Clark And Hillsdale" being prime examples.

REM - Murmur : I would own this just so I could hear all the sounds mixed way down in the background. And maybe to show that I have cool college-radio-hep taste, too. Maybe.

The Velvet Underground - The Velvet Underground : My copy of this is wrecked, and I really miss hearing "The Murder Mystery" at a zillion dBs after a night of drinking NyQuil (I bet my neighbors do, too.)

Guns N' Roses - Appetite For Destruction : Again, my LP is roached. Imagine the moaning in "Rocket Queen" in digital glory!

Television - Marquee Moon : Is there some coincidence that most everyone I know cites these records as being favorites for getting stoned to? Nah. But that part in "Marquee Moon" where the guitars seperate and come back together is way cool under such circumstances. So I've heard.

Blue Aeroplanes - Spitting Out Miracles : A little-known record by a little-known band from over there. Sounds like....well, er, hmm. Hard to say. Maybe like T-Bone Burnett singing in front of Camper Van Beethoven if they were all as cool as the Mekons, Fairport Convention and the mid-60s Stones. Or maybe not.