Keep the Analog Sound in Its Sonic Placenta!
The sonic mass of vinyl is a living entity, a placenta nurturing and sustaining the music
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Walking between my local bakery and supermarket, I dwell on a contrast: fresh bread that breathes through its crust, and its vacuum-sealed counterpart. Here, I glimpse how analog music lives in the air while digital sound rests suspended, sealed from the world.
The concept of “mass” in vinyl records refers to the presence of background noise or surface noise — those faint crackles and pops that accompany the music. These imperfections aren’t just flaws; they form a sonic placenta that nurtures and envelops the essence of the music. This background noise, this sonic mass, adds a tactile dimension to the listening experience, making the sound feel substantial and alive.
Tactile
Vinyl records don’t just play music; they create a tactile and intimate experience. The grooves on the vinyl are like a canvas where the music is etched, and as the needle runs through these grooves, it brings to life a rich, textured soundscape. This sonic mass — the background noise — fills the space, making the music feel warm and close like it’s wrapping around you. In this realm, the limitations of vinyl in reproducing low and high frequencies are not deficits but characteristics that add to its tactile intimacy.
The bass may not be as deep, and the highs may not be as sharp, but these qualities give the sound a physical presence. Like the roughness of a handcrafted chair, vinyl sound has a tactile richness that digital formats often lack. Digital sound, with its clear and precise quality, with no sonic placenta around it, can sometimes feel distant, like observing a scene through a window. It lacks the intimate touch that vinyl provides.
Living entity
The mass of vinyl creates a shared space of resonance and connection, inviting the listener to become part of the music. In digital formats, there is no sonic placenta surrounding the sounds to give them life and warmth. Listening to vinyl is like chewing on a piece of wood from a pine cone, while digital is like chewing on metal. The difference in texture adds to the depth of the experience. Thus, the sonic mass of vinyl is a living entity, a placenta nurturing and sustaining the music, allowing it to breathe and coexist with the listener. This is where the true magic of analog lies — in its imperfections, its tangible quality, and its ability to transform listening into an intimate, embodied experience.
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The Analog Experience
I sense this fully when placing Azymuth’s “Light As A Feather” — Brazilian funk-jazz from 1979 — on the turntable. Between the notes of “Jazz Carnival,” space unfolds through micro-vibrations and what I’ve come to think of as sonic mass. The vinyl’s surface whispers create minute gaps where I might enter, and breathe alongside the music. Ivan Conti’s drums vibrate through the room’s actual air, and José Roberto Bertrami’s Fender Rhodes inhabits a physical space where I, too, exist as a listener.
Like water in a vessel, each vibration sends waves through physical space, weaving dialogue between the centre and periphery, between the source and the surrounding air.
Yet when streaming Labrinth’s “Euphoria,” psychedelic R&B from 2019, something shifts. Despite its flawless production, I sense a remove. That breath, that space where one might slip in — absent. The sounds arrive pristine but hermetic, as if behind invisible glass.
And…so?
This isn’t mere nostalgia. It’s the gap between inhabiting a breathing room and watching through sealed glass. Digital perfection, in sealing out impurities, might also seal away deeper connections. In analog’s realm, small imperfections become entry points, invitations to exist alongside the music. Analog opens spaces of shared vibration.
Perhaps this is what I seek in listening: space where music and I might breathe as one, where imperfections become fissures through which to seep into sound. Like some benevolent parasite subsisting on surface noise and empty spaces, I find a home in analog’s impurities. I seek that physical resonance, that tangible vibration transforming listening into lived experience.
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