Memories on Wax: A Vinyl Story

3 Nov

10cc’s “How Dare You” split-screen image by the design group Hipgnosis

Much to his siblings’ dismay, a six-disc Mickey Mouse Club box set led to Steve constantly replaying the Disney movie soundtracks

From a young age, Steve would devour his older siblings’ record collections, which swung wildly from hard rock and pop to classical symphonies, a result of their varied ages and tastes. The two eldest, born in the early ’60s, favoured classical while still loving contemporary tunes, while his next two brothers, with their long-haired swagger, were deep into the rich, rocky and revolutionarily progressive milieus of the 1970s.

The tattered images from the record sleeves are still emblazoned in Steve’s memory: 10cc’s iconic How Dare You album cover, Sparks on their West Coast baroque pop odysseys — the Mael brothers tied-up and gagged, the speedboat wake trailing behind them. He was a precocious four-year-old clamouring to follow in his teenaged siblings’ footsteps, and memorized every lyric on those records, playing them on repeat.

When the Mickey Mouse Club released their six-disc Disney movie soundtracks, the Peck’s Glasgow flat was filled with Disney tunes, much to his siblings’ dismay.

Whatever you think of Disney’s 21st-century offerings, the artisanship of those earlier eras is undeniable, particularly in the legendary musicians who lent their talent to the movies of the day, including jazz and swing greats like the riotously brilliant Louis Prima (“I Wanna Be Like You” — The Jungle Book), the velvety, seductive Peggy Lee (“The Siamese Cat Song” — Lady and the Tramp) and the extraordinary Scatman Crothers.

Crothers, perhaps best known for his cameo in The Shining as the unfortunate caretaker, showed his playful, improvisational genius on “Everybody Wants to Be a Cat” (The Aristrocrats).

The risky operation of a rather relaxed approach

Louis Prima as featured in
*The Jungle Book*

That a four-year-old would be allowed the responsibility of managing the delicate operation of putting the stylus to the minute groove to play those classic tunes could only ever be possible due to his parents’ notably relaxed approach. For those who don’t know, the tip of a stylus — the ‘needle’ — is vibrated by the grooves in the record, and these vibrations are converted into an electrical current. That current is then run through an amplifier to boost the signal before ultimately being turned into the vibrations that our brains process as the sound we hear.

The music originates in the fragile grooves of the plastic disc

Any disruption to their integrity is immediately amplified for the listener

Steve, then eight years old, was mortified,
the accusation cutting him deeply

Fast forward to eight-year-old Steve. His foster brother, who was nearly twice his age, had confronted him about a prized record by The Bonzo Dog Band. This ingeniously satirical parody group was led by the irrepressible Neil Innes (who also penned tunes for the Monty Python and the Holy Grail soundtracks). His foster brother had just discovered that his beloved album — which Steve had also listened to obsessively — had developed a fatal scratch.

Close-up detail: an electron microscope reveals the stylus engaging the groove

Now, when the Bonzo Dog Band album was played, this scratch caused the needle to jump from one part of the song to another. The damage was irreparable, interrupting the music and rendering the track unlistenable.

His brother accused Steve of being a careless kid and damaging the vinyl groove. Except, Steve was certain he'd been extremely diligent when playing that record, just as he had with all the others from an early age, and the argument ended in a standoff.

Given Steve’s later track record (if you’ll pardon the pun) as a hip-hop scratch DJ and his rather cavelier attitude toward his records, however, we can conclude which of the two was likely at fault all those decades ago.

The decks set up at socialbar for Vinyl Night

We Promise, Your Vinyl Is Safe

Now that his youthful brashness is long behind him, Steve vows he will handle any records you bring along with utmost care. After all, these discs aren't just music; they hold unforgettable memories and experiences connecting us to who we are. Records may not be as convenient as their digital counterparts, but they ground and connect us, uniting our unique experiences and the soundtracks to our times.

Vinyl Night takes place every month at socialbar.

You can keep up with our events here.

Stephen Peck