Every month, I go to the thrift store to buy a record. There are only two specifications for which record I buy:
1. It has to be by an artist I have never heard of.
2. It has to cost less than $5.
This is Thrift Vinyl. Enjoy.
I went to the thrift store with one goal in mind: to buy back what I had accidentally given away. This isn’t a deep sentiment that needs to be decoded; I literally some of Amy’s t-shirts to Goodwill, and I needed to buy them back. But to no avail. Amy’s shirts are still in the sea of old crap as we speak.
However, while I was there I decided to buy my vinyl for the month. Like most thrift stores, most of the records are old Christmas compilations – you really have to wade through them to find something non-Christmas-related. Finally, I found An Hour of American Waltzes performed by Royale Dance Orchestra.
Waltzes is an old black and white movie on vinyl. Every song has the grandiosity that is usually associated with enormous halls and lavish clothes. This elaborateness is paired with the record’s age, making Waltzes a true symbol of the past.
The sleeve of the record is what caught my eye. The three main colors are blue, orange, and what is now a light brown – an obvious sign age. On the top left corner it says, “LONG PLAYING” with the Royale logo underneath it. The record itself is extremely heavy, and it is literally packed with music – both sides play for 30 minutes, the maximum for an LP.
When you put the needle on the first song, the record’s age is immediately clear. The crackling is about as loud as the music. However, the Royale Dance Orchestra playing “The Waltz You Saved For Me” somehow makes it through. The track is beautifully slow, and the male vocal is exactly the kind you want to hear on an old track.
My favorite track is “Let Me Call You Sweetheart.” It’s an instrumental version of the popular song which makes Leo Friedman’s original score to shine, rather than the lyrics, like in most popular versions of the song.
The second side starts with “Poeme,” although the crackling seems to be worse on the second side. Most of the song skips forward, and the parts I can actually hear are hardly audible.
And it only gets worse.
Once you get midway through “Memory Lane,” the fourth song on the second side, the needle skips forward through the remaining six songs in all of ten seconds. I’ll have to live with the first side only.
An Hour of Waltzes was probably a perfect record to play during dinner in the 40’s and 50’s, and it was most likely a fantastic record for those preparing for a big dance. However, for me it’s about thirty minutes of calming, beautiful waltzes and about ten minutes of overwhelming cracks and pops, followed by a skip to the end of the record.
Usually, I would be upset that a piece of music was hardly playable, but I guess that’s what I should expect from a .58 cent purchase.
