Featured Essay: Will It Go Round in Circles

by Michael O'Connell

I’ve been thinking again about the amazing experience of how songs exist across time, generations, and life’s changes, in this instance prompted by my first vinyl record purchase.

The record was a 45 of Billy Preston’s “Will It Go Round In Circles”, which was on the pop charts in spring/summer 1973 when I was 9 years old. I had earned some money from doing chores around the house and bought that record and a 45 of Dobie Gray’s version of “Drift Away”, which must have been on the radio at the same time, as my first vinyl records. Pretty good combination, I have to say, even 53 years on. 

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved the R&B that was on pop radio in the early 70’s. Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Gladys Knight and so many other amazing talents from that time lit the fire in me that still persists today for that transcendent genre of music. So when, for the first time, I had some spending money, my purchasing goals were simple - Puma Clydes and R&B records were the priorities and we would figure out the rest later. I assume it was just serendipitous timing for “Will It Go .…” to be a radio hit at the time that I first had the money to buy a couple of records (99 cents each!) and, as much as I still love Drift Away, that one song has become my vinyl icon.

I vaguely remember nagging my mother (no chance my father would go for this foolishness) to take me to the store where I knew records were sold. I don’t remember which store it was but I’m pretty confident it was a department store that had a record section, as was the fashion then, and I knew exactly what I wanted. The thrill of picking out the 45s that I had targeted from the rack is still present in my memory, as is the rush of handing over the money to the cashier and getting in return the records that were now mine forever. 

If you’re reading this blog, you presumably already know the fetishistic aspects of first handling a record (in a sleeve in this case, my obsession with album covers is a whole different topic), reading the label notes, smelling the plastic, and eventually putting it on the turntable and dropping the needle. I was too young and sheltered at that point to have a William from Almost Famous with the Tommy album type of experience and being honest, I barely remember the physical details of my parents’ turntable. But I do remember that the B side was Billy’s cover version of “Blackbird” ….

The thing that prompted this essay though, is much more contemporary. I’ve been working at a well-known, high-end grocery store as a part time job for the last 8 months and one of my favorite things about the job is the surprisingly outstanding music mixes that are played over the store PA system during business hours. In our particular store, the mixes are heavy on soul and R&B from the 70’s and 80’s, which is absolutely my f*cking jam. I don’t know how listening to that music stimulates more purchases of yellow mangoes or organic mini cucumbers but it works for me as I move around the store and the customers, especially the ones in my age cohort, seem to like it a lot.

By now, I think I’ve heard all of the mixes in the rotation, and at least a couple of them feature “Will It Go .…”, which is still a banger and still stops me in my tracks and compels me to pay attention every single time I hear it. My co-workers, with a few exceptions, are mostly Gen Zers and Millennials, mostly women, and mostly African American, none of which I am, and none of them seem to notice the greatness of this classic song when it’s blaring on the PA. I’m too self-conscious to stop Seritta or Natasha while they’re in their flow to ask if they also dig the song but I’ve decided that it’s not about mass appeal, it’s about what the song on that long lost piece of vinyl represents to me.

I had a great moment recently when Stevie’s classic “As” came on the speakers at the store as I was standing with an older woman co-worker whose name I can never remember (she and the older women like her at the store generally refer to me as honey, baby, or darlin’ so it goes both ways) and we talked about how much we love that era of music.

She went on to tell me how she can’t stand rap or any hip-hop music and that Stevie will always be at the top of her favorites list. There’s plenty of rap and hip-hop that I like and listen to regularly but that conversation made me realize again that the R&B music of that era that I love so much is unmatched for those of us who were there and who made lasting memories that started with spinning records on whatever turntable was close by.

Michael O’Connell is a father, traveller, and aspiring writer. His obsessions with music and other forms of art were only known to a small, select circle of comrades until recently but now the cat’s out of the bag and running wild. He’s a New York City native who lived in Texas for a *long* time but returned to his Acela corridor motherland in 2017 and now resides in Baltimore. This is his first piece for IHTOV or any other forum.