On a record shopping trip in Madrid, I recently purchased a vinyl copy of My Morning Jacket’s self-titled 9th studio album. It’s a fabulous record, as you might expect. As good as The Waterfall and its sequel The Waterfall II. As good as anything the band have done thus far. 

Why am I telling you this?

Because the album was released in October 2021. And I finally decided to purchase the vinyl in May 2023. My reasoning is thus:

I really love MMJ

I know I like this album - because I already streamed it

But I hadn’t streamed it nearly enough to get to know it

And I hadn’t streamed it all the way through

And, in all likelihood, I never would

In other words, if I didn’t choose to own this album on vinyl I would never get to know if it would become a record I love. 

The problem is well understood - the onslaught of endless music available on streaming takes away this sense of familiar, repeated listening that builds the connection between the listener and a record. Well, it does for me anyway. 

Streaming has its benefits. For everything to be previewable and available, music releases week-in-week-out are the gift that keeps on giving to us music fans. But the more I appreciate the world of music on vinyl, the more I recognise what streaming takes away. The only solution for me is the self-imposed scarcity and curation that comes through committing to own a collection. Even if that collection is a fraction of the music I get to hear, it will be the majority of the music I listen to most. 

I must say, the vinyl version of My Morning Jacket is so wonderfully packaged too. It comes in double-vinyl album form with a gatefold sleeve. It has beautiful artwork designed by Robert Beatty. It has a foldout poster of the cover in there (even if it doesn’t end up coming out of the sleeve, much). The inner sleeve of each disc has the lyrics on one side and all-important in-studio band photography on the other. It’s a cliche I know, but it is one of those albums that you put on and then stare at the cover while listening to it, true 70s style. It’s worth saying also that the listening experience is totally different. Played through a turntable, amp and decent speakers everything sounds much more like the artist probably intended when they made the record. 

So those are the listener/music buyer benefits, but just think too, of the benefits to the artist. An indie record exec recently told me that one of the label's bands made $25,000 revenue in a single ‘Bandcamp Friday’ weekend through vinyl sales alone. The equivalent amount would take over eight million streams, which would take a band like MMJ the best part of one year to achieve. 

Artists love vinyl because it is more economically viable but also because it feels like a format that is ‘becoming of the art’. The whole package makes a music album a worthwhile product - an affordable luxury. 

Now, I know vinyl isn’t affordable to everyone, I get that. However, it delights me that a vinyl collection and a record player are aspirations for younger music fans - millennials and genZs. The music industry might congratulate itself on reviving an old technology, but it has Netflix to thank to some extent. The streaming video service is much more a maker of trends than the music industry could hope to be, and just about every cool teen drama, from Stranger Things to Euphoria, features a scene in which a vinyl setup is the essential accessory of coolness. 

Back to My Morning Jacket. On the album, there is a track called Lucky To Be Alive, in which Jim James sings: 

The technology came and stole my living again
Ain't nobody buying records no more
Oh well, they cut off all the bread that used to keep us fed
So thanks for coming to the show

You know I ain't gonna crawl and I ain't gonna beg
I'm gonna write my own rules for life
And so I head out on the road, you know we gonna make it work
I feel lucky to be alive

Now when Jim wrote this back during the pandemic, it was before the shifting sands in the live music business. Once the lifeblood for many established music artists, touring has been hit by rising costs, falling ticket prices, lacklustre crowds, venue closures and visa problems. As such many bands cannot head out for the road to make decent money any more. 

The good news for Jim is that folks are buying records again. For one, I’m committed and many other music fans I know feel the same way. I don’t want to create a travesty of plastic and cardboard that sits on a shelf conspicuously (some of us are still recovering from the excessive CD era) but by choosing carefully, I’m happy to be playing every record I buy enough to justify the price. And let’s face it, there is plenty of choice out there and streaming a useful try-before-you-buy utility. 

In all sincerity, vinyl records have improved the quality of my life considerably. And we know these are sometimes not easy times to live through. I urge you to double down on your double albums. You won’t regret it. After all, music at its best makes us feel lucky to be alive. 

In Madrid I shopped in Marilians

Buy a record today on Bandcamp

Listen to my conversation about the craft of the album with Ben Folds on The Art of Longevity