"Midlife crises come in all shapes and sizes. One fellow’s sports car is another’s replaced baseball card collection. Perhaps one of the more nostalgic pursuits is the return to collecting vinyl, not for the young and hip, but for the middle aged among us who dumped our collections at yard sales and second-hand stores. But for Eric Spitznagel, a Men’s Health editor who has also interviewed the who’s who of showbiz, it’s not about replacing his records with reasonable facsimiles – he wants the exact same copies, and he’s come up with a list of titles with enough identifying marks, stickers, scribbles, and scratches, to think he can pull this off. The result is a manic quest, infused with musical memories, outrageous stunts, and shockingly enough, even some triumphs."— Daniel Goldin
If you are old enough, or retro enough, I'm sure you remember that one album you owned that, despite its scratches, pops, and smudges, you swore you would hold onto until the day you died. Well, you failed to do that, but you still remember the exact spot on that one song where your copy had an especially pronounced pop or hiss or skip. Even now it's how you hear the song in your head. If that song plays from someone else's album, it just sounds wrong! For me, that album was Led Zeppelin's first record, and the song was Your Time Is Gonna Come. You know it, the one with that extended organ prelude. Well, my copy had this huge scratch. Right there. Right smack in the middle of that introduction. If you stole my copy, I would know it immediately from that scratch. To this day, even though I haven't listened to that particular record in decades, it's how I hear it in my head. This book is about that. Sort of. It's about the author's singleminded drive to recover his record collection twenty some odd years after unloading it in favor of CDs. He doesn't want to simply replace his old vinyl with new copies. He wants the exact ones he got rid of all those years ago. He will know them from the scratches that he remembers with precision ... he will know them from the ex-girlfriend's phone number scrawled across the dust jacket ... from the partially torn sticker that identified it as a radio station's promo copy (not for sale!)... from the boot print on the cover from that all too wild party. Is this crazy? Sure! Funny? As all hell! This is a unique and infinitely entertaining little masterpiece about finding what you've lost and coming to grips with at long last becoming an adult.— Conrad Silverberg
High Fidelity meets Killing Yourself to Live in this memoir of one man's search for his lost record collection.As he finds himself within spitting distance of middle age, journalist Eric Spitznagel feels acutely the loss of ... something. Freedom? Maybe. Coolness? Could be. The records he sold in a financial pinch? Definitely. To find out for sure, he sets out on a quest to find the original vinyl artifacts from his past. Not just copies. The exact same records: the Bon Jovi record with his first girlfriend's phone number scrawled on the front sleeve, the KISS Alive II he once shared with his little brother, the Replacements Let It Be he's pretty sure, twenty years later, would still smell like weed.As he embarks on his hero's journey, he reminisces about the actual records, the music, and the people he listened to it with--old girlfriends, his high school pals, and, most poignantly, his father and his young son. He explores the magic of music and memory as he interweaves his adventures in record culture with questions about our connection to our past, whether we can ever recapture it, and whether we would want to if we could.