- surface noise my life with vinyl records

as assembled by james cassar

liner notes
1. into it. over it. wicker park
This song encapsulates my experience with records nearly perfectly. Into
It. Over It. vocalist/guitarist and primary member Evan Weiss once said
this song was about arguing over 1960s jazz records with a girl (I think
it was Kate Grube of indie-pop upstarts Kittyhawk fame). While my
collection only has one jazz record (Grover Washington, Jr.s
Winelight, thank you very much), the sentiments expressed throughout
my history with the format are very similar. Theres always a needle
dropping somewhere with me, and usually its next to someone else.
Youll see through this tracklist that my desire for connection can be best
found in dusty grooves and plastic crates.
2. modern baseball alpha kappa fall of troy the movie part
deux
Modern Baseball is my favorite band. Maybe its because like so much
of their lyrical canon, I too am an awkward quasi-adolescent/quasitwentysomething swirling around liquid in Solo cups with a stomach for
good food and better romantic prospects. Thats a hunch, and those are
also the Cliff Notes to a tumultuous year-and-a-half spinning the second
pressing of Sports until I memorized the way it revolved on a turntable
platter. I think the band knows it and thats why I helped inspire a
recent Lame-O Records (more on that label later) compilation called
Strength in Weakness to benefit United Cerebral Palsy (a disability I
have). I was given a test pressing of the 12 and an early vinyl copy
and Ill probably never forget that record release show in Philadelphia.
This song talks about safety and being tired ad nauseum and thats
exactly what this groups two full-lengths and various odds-and-ends
tracks have allowed to happen in my life.
3. sponge plowed

Before Modern Vinyl, before college, and even before owning a record
player, I wrote about this format. When I was sixteen, I wrote a book
called The Asphalt Diaries (Google it, its free somewhere) and the
novels central characters were obsessed with wax. Theres a scene
where a pair of protagonists tear apart a ramshackle apartment on the
edge of Detroit, Michigan to the tune of this 7 single. Discogs now
informs me a 7 version of this track only existed in the U.K., but maybe
my pursuits of realism were stranger than fiction.
4. r.e.m. at my most beautiful
Although The Asphalt Diaries had over forty misplaced pop culture
references many of them impossible to find on vinyl the biggest plot
device rested with this late-Nineties R.E.M. single (from the album Up,
which has a nice $150 price tag in the secondary market). R.E.M. grew
to be one of my favorite bands because of writing this novel while
listening to so much of their catalog, and if I were ever mugged at
gunpoint by a thief who would only release me if I could rattle off
R.E.M. trivia, I could get off without more dents in my spine. Im still sad
to say theyre no longer active, and despite their later career being not
as prolific as say, Automatic for the People, this song is a testament to
the hidden gems in their forgotten LPs. (Theres actually a climax in TAD
involving a forgotten copy of Up, but I wont make you read it.)
5. explosions in the sky the only moment we were alone
The first LP I ever bought was from a record-store owner who would
later hire me and fire me within twelve weeks. It was early September,
the University of Virginia was kicking Penn State to the curb in football,
and it was at least 95 degrees. As my first-ever article for U.Vas
newspaper, The Cavalier Daily, I opted to transfer between two buses
traveling to a washed-out Holiday Inn in downtown Charlottesville for a
used record fair. Four days prior, I was broken up with, and the only
reason I bought Explosions in the Skys The Earth is Not a Cold Dead
Place was so I could win her back (the previous October, she had made
a mix with Your Hand in Mine as the closing track to disc one; yup,
double-disc mix CDs). Both LPs skip a lot now (probably because I let
one of my former friends borrow the album) and I can never get the dust
out of those grooves. This song is the high point of Side A, and probably
the best indicator of how it felt to resume a relationship with this girl,
who was still stuck in high school, as a college freshman.

6. stevie nicks sleeping angel

That Christmas, my parents figured my LP-buying fetish needed a reason
to thrive, so I was given my first record player. Crosley sucks as a brand
and a general phenomenon in the vinyl community, but owning one
made me appreciate saving money to upgrade to a true setup a year
later. A few days after the holiday blitz, I traveled to one of my favorite
downtowns Frederick, Maryland to one of my favorite record shops
The Record Exchange and found a copy of the Fast Times at
Ridgemont High soundtrack for $5. Its by no means a rare record, but
for a double-LP with a set of non-album tracks, it was a steal. (Fast
Times, by merit of its soundtrack alone, is my favorite movie. Weird,
considering my high school experience was nothing like this.) This is the
best exclusive song on the record (Im discounting Jackson Brownes
Somebodys Baby because that was later reissued) and Fleetwood
Mac should be your favorite Seventies band.
7. act rights jamestown jheri curl
The same girl that caused me to inadvertently start collecting records
was also the one to point me to Modern dash Vinyl.com, a site which
now lets me squawk about music once a week and for some reason
hired me as their first-ever Managing Editor. One of my favorite perks of
writing for Modern Vinyl, besides the #hotelparties and endless stream
of Internet attention (for all the wrong reasons, I think), is getting press
copies of vinyl records. Tonequake Records put out this LP by the funkminded rock band Act Rights, and it was the first record I ever reviewed
for the site. Its not the greatest musical experience in the word, but its
sentimental for that reason. The LP still sits behind AC/DCs Back in
Black as a reminder that everyone starts somewhere.
8. wolfmother vagabond
Writing for Modern Vinyl helped me beef up my resum past a part-time
job at a gym (oh, the irony) and a stint at The Cavalier Daily, and so I
landed an internship in California with Warner Music Group (WMG). I
found myself in the office of a Rhino Records employee pleading a case
that (500) Days of Summers awesome soundtrack needed a vinyl
pressing (and since Sire, a Warner-owned imprint, pressed the CD, it
might be possible). Urban Outfitters recently released copies on yellow
wax. I refuse to believe I really had anything to do with this, but like
where this song was placed in the film itself, that conference was a

turning point in my understanding of (and place within) the music

industry.
9. sunny day real estate in circles
I discovered Amoeba Music during my time in California, and anywhere
that has thousands of square feet of records is enough for me. Diary was
another record mentioned in The Asphalt Diaries, one that actually
introduced me to the genre of emo (which for better or for worse is what
I primarily jock on the podcast), and one that I picked up at the
Hollywood store one day after work with a fellow WMG employee. This
day reinforced the importance of brick-and-mortar stores, influencing me
enough to pursue a part-time job at one (and later, to get fired because
the owners a chump).
10.
the hundred acre woods all i love
Lame-O Records second vinyl release (after Modern Baseballs Sports)
was a split between their flagship artist and a folksy band of punks
called The Hundred Acre Woods. The 7 went on sale while I was at my
desk at WMG, and my girlfriend vowed to snag a three-pack of records
so I wouldnt miss out (the Modern Baseball love was one we both
shared, and surprisingly, one she didnt destroy). She didnt, long story
short. It was a shame, too, because both sides of that 45 are solid-gold
indie-punk, The Hundred Acre Woods side being an awesome prelude
to their EP Cold in the Morning, which is still a Modern Vinyl staff
favorite. However, one day, I found a copy of the split in a sleeve of
another Lame-O Records release I was reviewing (The Weaks The
World is a Terrible Place 12, check it out!). Love those nerds.
Support the little labels.
11.
pinback loro
I spent the first weekend back at school pawing at used records in a toohot arts collective sponsored by the university radio station (which I
would later DJ for). My girlfriend, unbeknownst to me, was hanging out
with her future new boyfriend away at her school while I was buying
records for her. I found out that night via Instagram that it was finally
over. Instagram. Anyway, this 7 (b/w Clemenceau, an INCREDIBLE
B-side) was one of the records she ultimately didnt get from me. Its a
good thing, too, because Im not about to pay $25 on Discogs for The
Story So Fars (albeit awesome) cover version of this track on a 7.

12.
grey gordon learned helplessness
The best form of closure came in a tweet from No Sleep Records Grey
Gordon, who once told me being alone is kind of tight. That same
songwriter released Sleepless, a yet-to-be-pressed collection of ampedup lamentations that served as an expansive breakup soundtrack. The
two of us struck up an unlikely friendship via tweets and text messages,
finally meeting at Bled Fest. I opened my copy of Gordons debut LP
Forget I Brought It Up (still on its first pressing, pick up a record!) and
saw my name in the liner notes. Weirdly awesome that my name was
besides Nas and Evan Weiss (see track 1). I was also jutting
typographical elbows with Corey Purvis, who designed the outer
artwork and would soon start a record label with me, Near Mint. (Check
us out, were awesome.)
13.
j.r. hours outside in the snow
Near Mint isnt necessarily a DIY label, but Corey and I were soon
further exposed to the DIY communitys cheaper way to interact with a
record player: lathe cuts. Around the same time Near Mint was actually
starting, so were my attempts to woo a girl who had green hair and a
work ethic rivaling my own (R.I.P. that thirteen weeks). I had two of my
good friends stuff in a Charlottesville attic and bang out four cover songs
on acoustic guitars. Meep Records assembled the lathe cut and printed
the cardstock artwork. There are four in existence. I have one of them in
the front of my 7 box. Thats me on the mike (the same mike I use to
record the Modern Vinyl podcast!). This is the only cover that doesnt
completely suck vocally, and thats probably because its a Modern
Baseball song. (My middle name is Robert. J.R. is because I want to be
like J.D. Salinger, minus the romances with teenage girls. Dear God.)
14.
the hotelier dendron
My interests almost exclusively require me to listen to a lot of new music,
but Home, Like Noplace is There is a record which has simultaneously
ruined my hopes of ever writing lyrics that are as equally story-driven,
slammed in suburban decadence, and emotionally devastating. I didnt
actually own a copy of the LP until Modern Vinyl held Secret Santa
(because I dont buy records that will be repressed so soon unless I have
money I suck) but now that I do, I understand exactly what vinyls
appeal is meant to create. An album is an experience that cant really
be replicated in the digital age with skips and fast-forwards on vinyl, a
full record can completely destroy you. This is what this record does,

every time, and this song will never cease to bring chills with all its
anguish and inner turmoil.

15.
lcd soundsystem all my friends
I bought this record in Philadelphia at a store called Long in the Tooth
the night I met the nerds behind Lame-O Records and two days after I
saw Modern Baseball for the second time. I was there with a girl who I
would only see again for five seconds at the Strength in Weakness
release show. The reason I bought this album, Sound of Silver, on vinyl
again, another double LP with incredible significance is because of
its larger symbolism.
When I was a freshman in college, I made a mix CD for one of my
outgoing section editors. This song wasnt on it, but another track from
this record was. There werent romantic ties to that exchange, there
never would be, not like so many other songs and records and needledrops. Just connection. (The second side of that CD had superimposed
surface noise because Im an idiot.)
I still do this. Modern Vinyl is one of the ways. And you, the listener,
reading these liner notes, is another. Ill probably never meet you after
you receive this CD, but I hope it strikes something within you. Maybe
its not going to be the same strange journey through dusty crates and
botched almost-teenage love, but it hope its at least something you can
draw on. Something that can follow you home.
---- j.r.
March 8, 2015
New York City