Vinyl Junkies

October 15, 2003
All subcultures claim to be misunderstood, and all subcultures have their rites of entrance that separate dabblers from doers. To be a true record collector, explains Milano, a Boston-based music journalist, it takes more than a Velvet Underground album and some volumes from the Nuggets compilations. "Love for the music, love for the artifact, the thrill of the chase" or a heroin Jones-like drive makes collectors accumulate thousands of little-known records and sometimes use bill money for the next score. High-profile vinyl junkies like Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore and underground comic guru Robert Crumb explain their obsession with the obscure. For some, like R.E.M.'s Peter Buck, a collection began with a crush on the record store clerk. Though Milano keeps the prose energetic through chapters on the psychiatric justification for hi-fi hoarding and on the world's truly bizarre records, those who busted open their Franklin Mint coin sets long ago to play some pinball may lose interest. Recommended for all libraries and other places using CDs for coasters.-Eric Hahn, West Des Moines, IA

Copyright 2003 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

November 1, 2003
Vinyl junkies are special. They hunt down Brazilian pressings of favorite artists, know the difference between vinyl and styrene, and call a 3,000-LP collection "modest." Milano's interviews aim to nail down what vinyl addiction means. Thurston Moore thrives on the renegade, archival nature of collecting. As a teenager, Peter Buck hitchhiked 15 miles to get an LP the night of its release. R. Crumb speaks fondly of rare, flexible 78s. Most of Milano's subjects believe the thrill is in the chase: seeking personal Holy Grails is often more rewarding than playing them, and comfort is knowing a certain record is finally in one's collection. The book works best when Milano lets his subjects do the obsessing, and if what being a collector means remains as elusive as " Their Satanic Majesties Request" with the original 3-D cover, at least we learn that, as former Cramps drummer Miriam Linna says, "You play someone a great record and they don't react to it, you know it's time to get them out of your house."(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2003, American Library Association.)