There’s a moment on The Beatles’ “White Album” that almost feels like stepping through a doorway.
“Back in the U.S.S.R.” barrels in, loud, brash and upbeat with jet engines, guitar and Beach Boys-style harmonies.
Then, before you’ve caught your breath, it dissolves and flows into the softer, melodic “Dear Prudence,” with delicate, repetitive notes that get stuck in your head for the day.
On vinyl, one song breathes out and the next breathes in. The “White Album” is a chapter book, of sorts, and these opening songs set the tone for adventure.
It’s a small detail, easy to miss, but once you hear it, the album never quite sounds the same again. That’s not something you’ll ever quite capture on a streaming service, where those two masterpieces can end up worlds apart.
I arrived late to the vinyl-collecting game. Very late.
In June, I hit my 10-year milestone at TribLive. It came with a catalog showing assorted gifts. I could pick one.
“Dad, get the record player,” my daughter, Chloe, suggested.
Selection made: a square, brown-colored Crosley record player with four legs. I assembled it and found a home in the corner of our dining room.
The one problem: I had zero vinyl albums.
I made my way to Jerry’s Records in Squirrel Hill — a cavernous, classic Pittsburgh destination packed with tens of thousands of records. I was hooked almost instantly and lost myself in the stacks for two hours.
If you haven’t been to Jerry’s, I can’t recommend it enough.
Customers of all ages come in, all staring down and flipping through records. I was pleasantly surprised to see so many 20-somethings perusing the aisles.
I asked owner Chris Grauzer about the phenomenon. Grauzer took over Jerry’s Records in 2017 — Jerry Weber died in 2022.
“Younger people are having a realization that they like physical media,” he said. “They can look at an album cover, read the liner notes. They see this tangible item.
“All they have known is streaming.”
A trip to Jerry’s can stretch for hours — wandering its nooks and crannies or lingering over stacks of records, unable to decide. However, it can be quick and precise: On a recent Saturday, I scooped up “Beggars Banquet” by the Rolling Stones and “Fulfillingness’ First Finale” by Stevie Wonder and was at the register within 10 minutes. The total: $20.
Besides the largest room, there’s also a jazz room. There’s a classical room, too.
“You can come in here any day and not find what you’re looking for — that’s just the nature of it,” Grauzer told me. “We get a lot of great stuff, but it doesn’t stick around. If you come once a week, it becomes an experience. You get to explore, ask questions and get recommendations.”
He estimates there are nearly a million records in the store.
Although I’m relatively new to the vinyl game, I’m clearly not alone. In 2023, for the second time since 1987, vinyl albums outsold CDs — 43 million records sold, according to data from the trade group Recording Industry Association of America.
Streaming still reigns, but Grauzer said the collectability of records — and the treasure-hunt experience playing out in shops across the country — should keep him in business for years to come.
When I returned home from my latest purchase, I debated which record to spin first: Stevie or the Stones.
I made my choice and listened to the crackle as the needle hit the vinyl, anticipating the opening song.
“It’s OK, please don’t delay from smiling,” Stevie Wonder sang. “There are brighter days ahead.”