Letter From the Editor

by editor Michele Catalano

Welcome to the inaugural edition of I Have That on Vinyl.

The greatest Christmas of my life happened in 1974. I was eleven years old and the euphoria I felt upon receiving my very own turntable was something that would be hard to replicate; all Christmases thereafter were ruined by the fact that I peaked at eleven.

Along with the stereo, which was from Santa (come on, I was practically an adult), was a wrapped present from my older cousin Stan. We didn’t normally exchange gifts with cousins, but Stan - who at 19 was wise in the ways of music and the world - thought it was necessary to celebrate the occasion of getting my own turntable by purchasing my very first record.

I was a kid. I was into David Cassidy and Leif Garret. Stan thought I was getting too old for all that and bought me a record called The Now Explosion - a K-Tel compilation album of various artists singing AOR radio hits. Four Tops, Gladys Knight, Bill Withers. It was all harmless music, nothing that would really turn me away from my usual collection of teen heartthrobs. But it was music, and it was mine. As soon as my dad hooked up my turntable and speakers, I was in my room, huddled on my bed with my oversized headphones on, listening to an album that was my own, not borrowed from my parents. Listening to an album that was strictly mine, and not to be shared with my sisters on the living room stereo changed me. The Now Explosion opened a door for me. I wanted more records for myself. I wanted to have my own collection. Alas, I was 12 and still dependent on others for my albums, so I satisfied myself by taking some of my parents’ records into my room. I listened to the Beatles and I listened to Jesus Christ Superstar, and I listened to Elvis. It’s what was available to me and I learned to love them all.

I turned elsewhere for more music. My cousin Michael, who taught me how to handle records (with reverence) and whose careful explanation of The Who’s Tommy taught me that albums could tell a story. Al, who gave me my first Grateful Dead Album (Steal Your Face). The record clerk at Modell’s, who helped me pick out David Bowie’s Young Americans as my first album purchase. Eddie, who always “borrowed” his brother’s Led Zeppelin albums so we could listen to them in the fort behind his house. There were so many people involved in my musical awakening. And once I did wake up to what was out there for me to listen to, I never looked back.

I collected records through high school, though my collecting was limited by my budget. I waited in line for the release of some records; Van Halen II and In Through the Out Door at the record store in Broadway Mall come to mind. In 1983 I got a job at Record World at the busiest mall on Long Island. We got bonuses every month and those bonuses came in the form of records. I was consistently awarded the highest number of records you could get and so between that and my cherry picking records when they came in, the amount of albums I owned soared.

Eventually - after my marriage, kids, divorce - I parted ways with a good portion of my albums due to lack of both space and money. Selling off my collection afforded me both things. I kept some sentimental records, but most of them went the way of my marriage.

In 2019, my record collection consisted of those old sentimental albums, and some I added from artists I loved whom I wanted to support. My then husband had an old turntable from the early 90s and one day I asked him to hook it up. I pulled out some records I still had - Aztec Camera, The Jam, The Clash - and played them on some shitty speakers I dug out of the closet. It wasn’t ideal, but it did reawaken a part of me that I thought I’d let go. My love of vinyl wasn’t dead at all, it was only dormant and I just woke it up.

I went crazy during lockdown buying albums. I had an immediate need to stock up. You know how it was during the pandemic. Some people made sourdough bread; I started collecting vinyl. I got a new turntable and speakers to better hear my music. Opening each album as it arrived, I handled them with reverence, the way I was taught. I vowed to never buy an album just to leave it shrink wrapped. I would listen to everything I bought, even the variants.

Over the course of the time between then and now, I’ve amassed 400 records. Not a lot in terms of big record collectors, but just the right size for me and my living room. When I received a lovely cash gift from my bosses upon my retirement, I upgraded my turntable and speakers, and also bought a Bose CD player because I had started to collect those as well.

I’m happy with what I have now. I listen to records every day. Music and talking about music and spreading music around are the things that drive me every day.

To get to tell the musical stories of so many people on this site is thrilling to me. A week after I announced my idea for the I Have That On Vinyl, I had 177 submissions and/or pitches for the site. I let everyone know I could not pay at this time and the submissions kept coming. I’m at 300 pitches, over 100 essays already written, Q&As done, and dozens of interviews, some with your favorite musicians. It has been an honor to listen to and read people’s vinyl journeys. And now I get to share them with you.

I am fascinated with how people collect, what they collect, how they view their collections. I want to know about the white wales and special albums. I want to see the hidden gems. I want to hear about the hunt. And now I am doing all that. Pretty neat.

I hope you enjoy I Have That On Vinyl as much as I enjoy bringing it to you.