Vinyl is back. Record sales are in their 16th consecutive year of growth. In the U.S. alone, sales are up to $1.2 billion a year from just $14.2 million in 2007. Oddly enough, it’s not Boomers and Gen X-ers seeking nostalgia or following old habits, but Gen Z and millennials driving the sales boom. But why? Why, in a digital age, are young people so interested in analog media? Why is a generation that grew up with iPhones, Spotify and Apple Music obsessed with a form of media that any market logic would suggest should be dead?
One of the primary drivers of vinyl’s resurgence is its unique tactile, sensory appeal. Vinyl offers something tangible in a world where most music exists as ephemeral files on a streaming service. The process of selecting a record, placing it on the turntable and gently lowering the needle creates a ritualistic experience that streaming simply cannot replicate. Some might say that vinyl sounds “worse” unless you spend thousands on a top-of-the-line preamp, turntable, speaker … etc and that it can’t match digital files. This is just missing the point. The process and physicality of vinyl create a connection to the music that digital cannot match. For many, it’s not just about the sound. It’s about holding the album, reading the liner notes and seeing the cover art in their hands. Instead of it just being a song out there in the void of Spotify’s servers, it’s your song; there’s no middleman. Vinyl records personally connect the listener and artist. Of course, it’s expensive, and you’ll never easily store many vinyls, but if nothing else than just picking up some of your favorite tracks, who wouldn’t want to feel closer to them?
As I see it, the rise of vinyl is just one symptom of a broader cultural movement towards the art of slow living — a rejection of the light-speed pace of the digital age. Collecting and listening to records requires patience, intentionality and presence. Unlike streaming, where a million songs are available with a single tap, vinyl demands focus. You can’t easily skip tracks or shuffle playlists; instead, you listen to the album as the artist intended. In effect, buying a record is like buying a small slice of the mindset of the pre-social media era. It can provide a much-needed mental break for a generation on the brink of information overload. To play a record you don’t have to confront the overstimulating stream of messages and bleak headlines that flood your screen the second you even so much as look at your phone. The physicality of a record and the singular purpose of a record player concentrates the listening experience and frees the music from being tied to the rest of our daily lives. Social media has made many of us feel as though we are living parallel lives. Comparison has never been easier. For better or worse, owning records is now another method of escape for the kids my age who are trying to differentiate themselves from the ever-feared “regular” that Spotify and Apple Music now inhabit.
While we never lived in its heyday era, Vinyl’s new Gen Z customers are also attracted by the nostalgic allure of records. Records satiate a yearning to live in a past that is forever out of reach by allowing us to recover some small part of the experience. Platforms like Instagram, Pinterest and TikTok are rife with “aesthetics” that celebrate the imagery and function of all things vintage. From record players in bedroom décor videos to dorm walls covered in album covers, vinyl is now one of the touchstones for young people to access vintage vibes. We are fascinated by experiencing things as those in the past did. Music by groups such as the Beatles will always be timeless in their substance, but in listening to a Beatles record on vinyl, you get to hear as it was heard when they first blew up in the ’60s and imagine yourself as a part of that excitement. Records allow you to tap into the historical aura of a track or artist in a way that digital media could never.
But don’t get me wrong; young people use vinyl just as much to support current artists, especially in the indie genre. The key is the money. The average vinyl LP goes for between $20 and $40, and the artists often take a much larger cut of the money they get from streams. Indie artists often have much smaller, more niched fan bases, but streaming platforms simply cannot generate enough revenue to sustain such artists given their lower streams. Indie fan bases, while often small, are highly dedicated. Their dedication and investment in their favorite artists have made physical album sales a vital revenue lifeline for many indie artists. The fans understand this, so purchasing albums is now as much a gesture of support for one’s favorite artists as it is a result of all of the other personnel benefits. Of course, larger names also have picked up on the merchandising opportunity. Artists like Tyler the Creator, Harry Styles and Taylor Swift have released special vinyl editions of their albums with huge success. Die-hard fans are all too happy to shell out extra cash to buy into the exclusivity physical album releases offer. Fans receive a better experience with the music, and artists get to bypass malicious record labels with direct sales, often on their own websites. The vinyl resurgence may make sense after all.
James Palm is a sophomore in the College of Arts and Sciences. He can be reached at [email protected].