vinyl tickles my fancy, music tickles my soul

Little ridges are the music. a needle bobs up and down, plodding methodically along the grooves like a desert man riding his camel. camels have humps like a record. they also have ears, like me, the listener.

As I sit here in my burgundy, second-hand armchair I contemplate the invention of this record-playing technology. who was the first to hone in on this method of recording sound? Wikipedia would tell me that Thomas Edison was the first man to develop a sound device that could record and playback the music. it was called the phonograph. he patented the mechanism in 1878.

A lightbulb just popped up above my head. Edison invented the light bulb. the light bulb above the head is also a common illustration of a blooming idea. the idea is this:

Edison may have invented the phonograph, but he did not invent the music.

Why are we as humans (I will speak for myself, why am I) so fascinated, drawn toward, moved by music? sound waves tickle the tiny hairs of our inner ears and we feel an emotion. what a profound experience.

The title of this little rumination addresses my bias: vinyl kicks digital music in the rear end, hard. not only do the notes seem that much crisper, but the music has life to it, as though the Fleet Foxes are actually performing inside my speakers; little people harmonizing inside a wooden box. all of these melodies fill my 8x6 dorm room with the force of a tsunami and a speeding bullet train multiplied together. ok I exaggerated a bit, the room is 8x7.

Regardless, music makes me happy. it makes me sad. the fact that sounds so intricately formed together make me do anything is remarkable. music is the sign of something bigger than man and his fundamental limitations. of this, I am convinced