I sometimes wonder how much great music there is out there that will one day be lost forever.
You’ve probably heard about the thousands of movies slowly turning into dust in film vaults. Likewise, there must be millions of great albums, singles and cassettes released by bands that either existed before CDs, or who just weren’t popular enough to make the leap to CD – and thus, easy ripping to mp3 or other digital formats.
As turntables and cassette players continue their march towards obsolescence, people don’t know what to do with their old vinyl and tapes, and eventually just give or throw them away. And then there are people like me, who continue to hold on to their vinyl in hopes of one day converting it to digital format, but just can’t get around to it. Either way it’s a shame.
Take the Atlanta band 86 for example. One day I was at the Book Nook, an iconic used book and record store in the city, when I stumbled across their EP Minutes in a Day. I bought it and took it home for a listen. Most of the EP is just OK, but I quickly fell in love with the title track. The desolation of the opening made it my perfect “drive home song”. When I listen to it I think of driving home on almost empty interstates at 4:30 on a Sunday morning, and the eerie stillness of everything at that hour. And it makes me smile.
I searched high and low on the Internet for the EP for years, but never had much luck. Given that the band broke up in the early 90s and didn’t have much of a following outside Atlanta, I didn’t have much hope of their music ever turning up on iTunes or at Amazon’s mp3 store. However, thanks to a “magic Google search” yesterday, I was finally able to snag a copy in mp3 format from a music blog. So now I can share it with you!
Have a listen and tell me what you think:
[audio:86.mp3]