Last night my friend Tim K and I went digging for vinyl records at Dusty Groove.  I’ve collected vinyl for a while, and Tim is just getting started.

I don’t want to debate the sonic properties of vinyl vs digital, but rather examine the listening experience.  I feel like I listen to vinyl records, where mp3s play in the background.  Note the active vs passive nature for the listener.  You listen to 3 or 4 songs on vinyl, then you flip or change the record to hear more.  iTunes tells me that my mp3 collection could play for 12 days straight.

So what is the allure of vinyl records for me?  They feel like a much more thoughtful product.  The large cover art is often well designed, and could be used as an art piece.  Many records have a lengthy story written on the back about the creation and influences of the music.  I feel connected to the artist.  It feels like I’m shaking Miles Davis’ hand every time I flip a record.

I’ve been noticing a trend of people striving for a deeper connection to their material possessions.  Seth Godin seems to think this is a new expression of wealth.  I think there is more to it than that.  If I choose to buy a locally grown, organic head of lettuce, I am buying it for myself as a reflection of my principles, not to demonstrate to others that I have the ability/wealth to do so.  Similarly, I would help an elderly woman cross the street because I think it is the right thing to do.  I would not do it to impress the girl standing on the corner.

There are many examples of people buying products they feel connected to, products with a soul.  At Local Motors, you pay a premium for a car that you still have to build yourself!  But that is the point.  As Local Motors CEO, Jay Rogers, like to quip, “if my son and I build this car together, I don’t care if it becomes a rusty bucket of bolts in the back yard, you’ll have to pry it out of my dead hands”.

It’s hard to imagine that deep of a connection with your minivan.