IF VINYL COULD TALK | blog riley

REGRETS: I’VE HAD A FEW
My first brush with colored vinyl was also my first record: a yellow 45 rpm of the Andrew Sisters singing “When the Red Red Robin Comes Bob Bob Bobbing Along.” And I remember a records store on the Hill in Boulder that had a hanging display of the Dave Mason Alone and Together wax, which like everything else in those days, was out there. One of those clerks gave me a lecture on Bob Dylan: how Highway 61 Revisited was the greatest album of all time, how the Monkees were overrated, how John Denver was the ultimate phony, hence dead. Once I became a critic, I was so cynical about this new product Madonna launched on white vinyl I actually traded it in. I’m still catching on to her irony.
Here’s a whole book devote to the stuff, obsessive like you never imagined. Under “essential” in the dictionary.