Someone needs to launch a 12-step program for jazz vinyl collectors. It’s just like dope, my friends, only with a different kind of needle.
I’ve met many fans who have a genuine addiction to those rotating 33 rpm platters. And their habit is expensive. For the most avid music fans, a trip to a record store can be more costly than a gambling junket to Vegas.
But unlike that lost weekend at the slot machines and blackjack tables, this problem definitely doesn’t stay in Vegas. I’ve heard from more than a few vinyl junkies that their single biggest problem—well, the second biggest, after paying for those over-priced licorice pizzas—is how to sneak the purchased vinyl into the home without the spouse noticing.
It's alarming, but true. Your relationship could founder because of one Blue Note first pressing too many.
Ah, the horror stories you hear at Jazz Vinyl Anonymous!
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