Rock Doc: Vinyl Nation
I sit down and talk with the team behind the film
I’ve never been stunned to find an MP3
~Kelly Stoltz
Vinyl Nation's opening scene will resonate with some viewers. The shot is of a line outside a record store waiting to get in ahead of Record Store Day- an event that has evolved into a sort of Black Friday for the music community. For Mills specifically, it can mean more sales in 1 day than they see in 2 months.
Few in line ever share what they're hoping to pick up--the worry is they'll be overheard and beat to it by someone else. What they do share enthusiastically is community/fellowship with one another; they're friends, even if they don't know each other's names.
They may only see each other once a year-at record store day- but those relationships are treasured the same as any other in their life.
For those of a certain age, this brings back warm memories of various DIY scenes in the early 90s.
Ecosystems were built around a shared affinity for the same bands. In my case, I certainly “knew" people I'd see at concerts (or house parties) and nowhere else. We'd make small talk about whatever group we were in line to see, recent shows, etc. but always skipped over things like asking each other's names.
It never really mattered, nor did it make for any less of a connection.
“I think records are really meant to be shared much more so than any other way of listening to music...And it's fun to share your record collection visually with people when they come into your homes. And sure, when somebody comes to my house, I could open up my laptop and start showing off my Spotify playlist. Like, have you seen this? It's cool. Right? Like, pull up my phone. I could do that. I listen to Spotify, you know, I use it.
But they come to my house and we have multiple kinds of racks, and you can flip through the records really easily and, you know, just check it out and see, see what you're into.”
~Christopher Boone
In today's world of algorithms and 1's and 0's, it's easy to overlook that part of the experience. With a supercomputer in your pocket, you can listen to (or skip) just about any song you want. You don't have to listen to ads if you're willing to pay.
It's a fantastic feat from a technical perspective but a pyrrhic victory from almost any other angle. What you gain in scale, you lose in depth. In intentionality.
In community.
That human need to connect is a large part of Vinyl Nations's narrative. The new film by the writer/director team of Kevin Smokler and Christopher Boone may start in front of Mills Records in Kansas City, but it quickly zooms out far beyond that.
"..there's no story to be told- there's no documentary to be made called Vinyl Nation if the same people who've always been into records are the only people who are still into records. So their story has been going on the whole time. And we include that to an extent, but this is a story about today and moving forward. And that means a whole new group of people have now come into the community of buying and listening to and collecting records."
~Kevin Smokler
Today’s community makeup is different. So too how vinyl is made. The film doesn't skip this part—nor dodge the environmental concerns some have. Traveling from L.A. to Detroit to Salina, Kansas, we see facilities using both advances in production and sites like Jack White's Third Man label who relish in still doing things the hard way- all the while hewing to the idea that they're there to help local musicians first.
Writing a love letter to vinyl itself probably would've been easy- it likely would've done well too. But Smokler & Boone tell a much more valuable story- the story not just of the "passionate weirdos" that make up the vinyl community, but how that same group is expanding, is becoming increasingly inclusive, and today looks entirely different from the picture you might have in your head.
Gone are gatekeepers reminiscent of the Simpson's Comic Book Guy or insufferable pedants like High Fidelity's Rob Gordon. They still exist in distant corners, but by and large, they've been replaced by a younger, more diverse crowd. These are people whose month might be made by finding a rare South African imprint but who also won’t think any less of you for not understanding why that's a big deal.
Sharing that joy of music-regardless of the genre- is a bond that's hard to describe. But you know it when you see it, and you know instantly when you share it with someone else…even if you don't know their name.
I recently had a chance to speak with Smokler and Boone over Zoom. I had an idea of what questions I wanted to ask and a direction I thought the discussion might take. But to my delight, it took a different turn and quickly became an easy discussion between three music lovers. It was truly an enjoyable experience, even as I tripped over my words. I think you'll enjoy it too.
And when you're done, check out the film! It's a compact, engaging documentary showcasing the human side of the music world.
It's full of great characters, and you'll likely see yourself in more than one of them.
You can find the film & viewing options here.
Learn more about Smokler and Boone’s work here.
Thanks again to Kevin and Chris for being so generous with their time, and thank you for being here.
NICE!!