70s’ Music – the Elixir of Life

One of the things that struck me soon after arriving in the US, was how Americans were constantly getting rid of things. No, this was not just the inevitable downsizing after retirement, but, more likely, making room for newer possessions. Every kind of chattel from the heaviest furniture to the humble thimble can be found in thrift shops here, some of them new and unused in their original packaging!

The one item that attracted me the most was books. From thrift stores and library sales, I gobbled them up in near-mint condition at throwaway prices – 3 for $1 or, at the end of the day, “all you can carry” for $1. Needless to add, very soon, I had the well-stocked library that I had always longed for—but could not afford.

Where I came from, nobody threw away even ragged, old books—far less, books in perfect condition. Books were respected, even revered.

The other thing I gazed wistfully at—but did not do anything about— were LPs. Long-playing records, to give their full name. As someone who loves the arts and who, in his own small way, tries to create something new with words, it grieved me to see the injustice done to these works of art and to the artists who created them.

There was a time in my youth, in a small town in India, when very few were available for purchase and, those that were, were way beyond my meagre budget. This was before the advent of the cassette tape, followed very soon after by the compact disc, to be followed in quick succession, by digital music that did not have a physical form and could be downloaded.

My source for music of all kinds, popular, country, folk, jazz, classical, and international, was shortwave radio. I listened avidly to the Voice of America, the BBC, Radio Australia and Radio Nederland, among others, for my daily dose of music. Static and fading hardly mattered. The music was heavenly. (If you are wondering, there was no FM radio then and the local AM station did not much care for Western music.)

It was very painful, therefore, to see the singers that I had listened to on the radio in my youth lying unwanted in containers, or worse, heaped unceremoniously on the floor. I did not think then that buying a record player and an amplifier and speakers was a good idea.

All that changed five months ago. I succumbed to sentiment and purchased an old Telefunken tube radio made in West Germany in the late 50s, similar to the one I had listened to in my college days. The Net is such a wonderful thing, in two weeks I was able to locate an old-world radio repairman who went by the name of “Radioman Ralph,” in Barrie, Ontario. Ralph, after three weeks of hard work, had the sixty-year old radio singing like new. I was delighted beyond words.

The magic of the Net did not stop there. I soon found a Telefunken record player in Toronto. I thought the record player of the same make would complement the Telefunken radio as a collectible and drove over to buy it.

Soon, this too changed. Out of curiosity, I picked up a few records from the 70s at the local thrift store. When I played them on the record player, I was stunned. The same singers that I had listened to over the fading shortwave, were now booming loud and clear in my living room through the same type of radio I had listened to decades ago. The very same songs!

I went back to the thrift store and looked with longing and sadness at the once in-demand artists now woefully discarded. I sorted through hundred of records and discovered many in good condition visually. Ironically, their prices now were what I could have then afforded as a student! The gentle warning of Glynn W. (the friend who sold me the record player) came a little too late. Records became an obsession. I went from 0 to 500 in a couple of months. I think in some subconscious way I was compensating for their deprivation when I was young.

Glen Campbell, Eddie Arnold, Nana Mouskouri, Connie Francis, Johnny Cash, James Taylor, Connie Smith, Helen Reddy, Olivia Newton-John, Carpenters, the Monkees. Linda Ronstadt, Nat King Cole, Rod Stewart, Harry Belafonte, Crystal Gayle, Frank Sinatra, Loretta Lynn, Lynn Anderson, the Kingston Trio, Tanya Tucker, Merle Haggard, Simon and Garfunkel, Cat Stevens (before he changed his name), BJ Thomas, Al Martino, Anne Murray, Roger Whittaker, Rita Coolidge, Slim Whitman, Peter, Paul & Mary, Jim Reeves … you name it. The list is almost endless.

It gives me unimaginable happiness now to listen to the same melodious singers of eons ago in the deep, rich tones of the old-style speakers in the wooden cabinet of the Telefunken radio. Not for me anymore, the soul-less, clinically clean, digital music through tiny earbuds or tinny speakers.

I do not regret at all my investment in the music that I love. This is what I had been missing as a workaholic. The mellow music of yesteryears is both calming and uplifting. If I gave the LPs I brought home a second lease of life, they have done the same for me. I consider myself blessed.

With the bard I would say, “If music be the food of love, play on.”

Well … it hasn’t taken me that far yet. That is another story.