The Hangout: Spin the black circle
I also remember hanging out at the old Randburg Waterfront, browsing CDs at the music store. Some of my very first CDs were Violent Femmes and Pixies, bought at the now long-gone Musica. Do you remember what your first buy was? I still have a big collection of CDs, and I have even seen bands selling cassettes at gigs again. But I digress. We are here to talk about vinyl.
The first vinyl pressings date back to the 1930s and 1940s, which is almost a hundred years ago. That is pretty wild, and now they are back in full swing. I chatted to one of the vinyl gurus at Mr Vinyl, based at 44 Stanley in Milpark, and here is what Bret Dugmore had to say:
'The vinyl revival is an amazing story of how the human condition and our search for meaningful and mindful experiences brought back an old music format that modern society gave up on in the pursuit of ease and convenience.
The experience and ritual of buying a vinyl record, putting it on a turntable, lowering the needle and carefully listening to it, while examining the artwork and lyric sheets, is by far the best way to experience music. All generations, with our youngest customers being nine or ten years old, have fallen in love with the art of collecting, caring for and listening to vinyl records.
The vinyl revival was well underway overseas by 2010, but it only really took hold in South Africa around 2012. Mr Vinyl started as a hobby for me. I would buy a crate of records from a friend at a record label and sell them online. One crate turned into two, then four, and soon a large portion of my house was filled with vinyl. That gave me the push to find a retail space. We went from clicks to bricks and opened our doors at 44 Stanley in 2017. It has been our home ever since, and we have become a hub for music lovers across Johannesburg. We stock and sell all genres, and we feature the widest selection of new vinyl in South Africa.'
And that's not a lie! Bret and his team really do have an outstanding store and a phenomenal selection of vinyl to choose from. I have also discovered a few fantastic vinyl fairs. There are plenty around, but here are two I think are worth checking out.
The Soweto Record Fair is happening tomorrow at Native Rebels Restaurant, 1345 Kadebe Street, Central West Jabavu, Soweto. Entry is free, and you can flip through loads of records while great DJs spin vinyl and you enjoy a relaxed brunch vibe at this lovely restaurant.
Then there is the Spin Music Fair, managed by Benjy Mudie of Vinyl Junkie. It brings together some of Gauteng's top vinyl dealers on the last Sunday of every month at Pirates Bowling Club in Greenside. The fair offers thousands of new and pre-loved records, from rock and pop to jazz, soul, soundtracks, hip hop and more. Crate digging is a massive part of the vinyl experience, whether you are on the hunt for a rare find or just admiring the beauty of old-school album artwork. The fair runs from 9am to 2pm and entrance is free.
If you cannot make it to a fair, visit Benjy's beautiful store at 94 Conrad Drive, Blairgowrie, Randburg. It is a music lover's paradise, and Benjy's knowledge is second to none. Every visit feels like a little musical adventure, whether you are a lifelong collector or just getting started.
I also often hear from people wanting to sell their vinyl collections. Both Bret from Mr Vinyl and Benjy from Vinyl Junkie can help with valuations and sales. You will be in good hands, as their passion for music and the format is matched by their honesty and care. Your beloved records will be going to good homes.
If you have a collection gathering dust in your garage or storage, I urge you to go and get it. And for those who play theirs religiously, you need no coaxing — just dive in and feel the music.
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There was only one turntable built into a cabinet with an open rack that held the long-playing records, or vinyl as they were known, and a radio with a fabric or mesh-fronted speaker and a large knob for a tuning dial. This was in a pride-of-place position in the lounge. Remember, there was no television set, so it was where we sat to listen to whatever was being played – record or radio. Antonette, my six-years-younger baby sister, listened to David Frost narrating fairy tales, The Pied Piper of Hamelin, Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella. She'd happily sing along with the complaining Hamelin rats, resentful about being unloved, bitter about their treatment from humans. Anton came home from boarding school, superior in his new knowledge of the hip music scene, bringing with him the music of Jethro Tull, Shawn Phillips, Pink Floyd, King Crimson, Deep Purple, Black Sabbath… all the colours, my mother used to say. 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To make sure we still had family time, my sister-in-law, Ann, and nephew, Joe, piled onto my bed. Only each of us had our laptops, each our Airpods, each watched a television series (me), documentary (Ann) or music video (Joe) of our own choosing. In the end, nobody shared what they'd been watching or listening to, I think because we each had such specific personal taste that nobody thought our choice would interest the others. It struck me that because it's always our turn, the algorithm can track us and give us more and more of what it thinks we like or want to see or listen to. And so our world gets narrower and narrower, as do the chances of getting to know arcane religious tracts or becoming familiar with the songs of Bing Crosby or being able to sing along with the rats of Hamelin. You are left with a repertoire of only what you like. As I said, I come late to things and seem to catch on and catch up only when the trend is deeply entrenched. Embarrassingly, I have just discovered podcasts and am listening to a host of views and opinions with which I agree, to which I nod along. A case in point is The Rest Is Politics, hosted by former journalist-turned-strategist and spokesperson for Tony Blair and New Labour Alastair Campbell and British academic, broadcaster, writer and former diplomat and politician Rory Stewart. In a determined attempt to confuse the algorithm, I have resorted to forcing myself to listen to the extremely right-wing views of Donald Trump-supporting Joe Rogan, whose ravings are liberally interspersed with racist epithets. It's a grim business and I find myself vacillating between rage and despair at some of the things people (such as Kash Patel, Trump's director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation) say. But I genuinely believe that the only way to form opinions is to have the views of all sides. DM This story first appeared in our weekly Daily Maverick 168 newspaper, which is available countrywide for R35.
