New generation puts fresh spin on LPs

On the city's streets, iPods are as ubiquitous as the Red Sox logo, but an older mode of delivering music is also galvanizing young aficionados across Boston -- the vinyl record.

While the advent of digital music nearly shoved record shops into oblivion, a steadfast group of vinyl devotees kept the platters alive, and the surviving shops are enjoying resurging record sales largely fueled by a generation of fans who grew up years after vinyl's heyday.

Stuart Freedman, the owner of the music shop Nuggets in Kenmore Square, reports record sales ''have at least doubled in the last year or two, if not tripled."

Due to vinyl's relatively cheap prices, (averaging $1.99 to $4.99 in his store), lots of college-age people are buying up to 10 albums at a time, he says. Classic rock, soul, and R&B records drive a lot of sales. Also popular are titles by iconic bands such as the Rolling Stones, the Beatles, and the Clash. Even though these albums tend to cost a bit more, they often get sold within a day of hitting the shelves.

When Emerson student Dean Conklin thumbs through bins of used records, he hunts for '70s-era comedy albums, especially ones recorded by Steve Martin or Bill Cosby. Conklin, 20, owns two record players; one in his home in Glendale, Calif., and one in his downtown Boston apartment. Conklin finds that playing his records evokes nostalgia; ''My dad always played them when I was a kid. They remind me of being home. It's something I grew up with."

Even though he owns many of the same comedy titles on CD, Conklin opts for the vinyl format.

''I still prefer the static-y feel the records provide rather than a crisp and digital sound, because that's what I'm used to."

Though digital music formats like compact discs and MP3s offer more in terms of convenience and clarity, fans of vinyl argue that records provide superior sound quality, says Allison Haar, live mix director at Emerson College radio station WERS.

''Vinyl is richer and deeper sounding" than anything digital, she says. When an analog sample is converted into digital information, bits and pieces of the music are lost in the compression process, she says, and the result is a ''squished" sound devoid of its intended range and nuance.

Dr. Paul S. Gray, a sociology professor at Boston College, says that younger generations are drawn to vinyl's sound, which he describes as ''richer, fuller, and with more presence" than newer digital formats. Record collecting has become such a fervent practice, he says, that ''record shops that sell vinyl have taken on a cult status."

Another strong draw to vinyl is the physical, more tangible element of it. The larger dimensions of the sleeves provide an ample medium for artwork. At Mojo Music in Cambridge, albums bearing visually iconic images, notably the Beatles' ''Abbey Road," are hot items.

''With records as a product, you get the artwork and a lot more information, like liner notes and lyrics," says store owner Michael White. ''Today, with CDs, you need a magnifying glass."

Mojo's biggest sellers are jazz and classic rock titles, both originals and reissues. Also many local bands distribute their music exclusively in the vinyl format for both artistic and economical reasons, which also helps drive the shop's business. White says that new vinyl, put out by more mainstream bands like Pearl Jam and Wilco, are also very in high demand.

According to Newbury Comics music buyer Carl Mello, the record industry tried to kill off the vinyl format when CDs took off in the early '90s. But when grunge music exploded into the mainstream a few years later, vinyl's status suddenly shot back into vogue.

''All of a sudden, the music that was popular was made by people who loved vinyl," he says.

Hugely influential bands such as Nirvana touted the vinyl tradition, which essentially forced record companies to issue vinyl editions of their releases. So the demand for records reached a new demographic and narrowly escaped extinction.

According to data provided by the Recording Industry Association of America, LP records sales dwindled to a low of 1.2 million annually, but an unprecedented upswing nearly tripled that figure in 1996, and new records sales have since leveled off at just fewer than 2 million a year.

Mello says that number is ''probably more than they [record companies] thought they would be producing."

Ted Forgit, a 23-year-old building estimator, collects vinyl pressings of new releases by current artists such as The Beastie Boys, but his reverence for vinyl quickly extended to classic rock, folk, and blues titles. Forgit views record collecting as a cost-effective way to support his music habit and regularly scours record stores for deals.

''After you buy the turntable, it's a cheaper way to get your music," he says. He often scores titles for $5 or less. His most prized finds tend to be recordings by older blues artists such as Leadbelly and John Lee Hooker -- pieces that are ''more accessible on vinyl and haven't come out on CD yet."

Forgit says he also enjoys the more tactile experience of browsing in record stores compared with shopping in a chain store. ''When you go into a record store, you immediately see the personality of the place." He also appreciates the more enthusiastic staff members who are ''more knowledgeable and passionate about the music. They really want to enlighten people."

For Emerson College junior Anna Sumilat, record collecting is not just a hobby, it's also a job requirement. As a DJ at WERS's hip-hop show, ''88.9 @ Night," Sumilat brings her own records to the station and ''mixes" them during the show. She frequents local record shops such as Skippy White's in Cambridge and Satellite Records in Boston for her growing collection of hip-hop, soul, reggae, and old Motown.

Though many radio stations employ more automated technology, Sumilat prefers to work with vinyl.

''I personally like turntables better, because it has a certain nostalgic feel to it, and your hands are literally on the record," she says.

The DJ at the turntables paired with the MC at the mike is the essence of hip-hop and its culture, says Sumilat, who expects the tradition will remain strong.

''The way that any other instrument has been around for a long time, such as the electric guitar, is the same way the turntable will be a fundamental of hip-hop that will never disappear."

Pat McGrath, who owns the Looney Tunes music shop in Back Bay, also cites the status of the DJ as a ''cultural icon" as playing a vital role in vinyl's longevity. He also says demand stems from a certain breed of music lovers who shun the mainstream. ''A lot of people who come into a store like this are archeologists. It's like an archeological dig, because you come in and dig to search things out."

His store, situated in the heart of the city, attracts college students from the nearby Berklee College of Music as well as other area schools. McGrath says that vinyl enthusiasts as young as 12 come into his store seeking vinyl as a nostalgic refuge in a digital era.

''It's nice to have something to hold in their hand," McGrath says. ''Also there's ritual involved, such as placing a record on the turntable or blowing the dust off the needle."

McGrath says that younger music fans are getting turned on to vinyl at a steady enough rate to offset the loss of business from older ones who prefer CDs.

Citing CDs' drawbacks and the explosion of online music, McGrath predicts that vinyl may even outlast CDs. ''You can't have the future without the past," he says.