Hobbies for music lovers: collecting vinyl discs. Rare copies: Record collectors talk about vinyl Collectors music lovers

A musical number is partly a number about what is not there. In the world of mp3s, blogs and collections measured in hundreds of gigabytes, few people care about the actual music. New albums do not evoke trepidation; you want to get rid of the newly downloaded album as soon as possible. The only object that still evokes tenderness, envy and simple human interest in people is a long-forgotten vinyl record. Alexey Munipov found out how the Moscow vinyl world works and met with the main collectors.

“I tried never to change with anyone. And he didn’t let me listen to his records. If you have money, buy it, if you don’t, go to hell...” It’s hot in the basement of Transylvania, and overhead is a sales area with tons of CDs: there are no vinyl records there, but this is the main music lovers’ point in Moscow, and where to start asking questions about collectors if not here?

The owner of Transylvania, Boris Nikolaevich Simonov, was once the president of the Moscow Society of Philophonists and, in theory, should know everyone. His own collection is legendary. They say that everything there is only on vinyl. That it is not inferior in size, or even surpasses the Transylvania collection. That a separate apartment has been allocated for her. And that, of course, no one has access to it.

All this turns out to be true.

“I started collecting records in the mid-60s,” says Simonov. “I knew for sure that no one would give me the records, and I didn’t want to beg to listen to them either.” I didn’t run through the forests or through the crowds - I only bought and sold, and only from trusted people. There were several serious black marketeers in Moscow. They made money on other things - on mohair, bologna raincoats, scarves, watches, jeans. They unloaded sailors, artists, journalists, athletes, and various diplomats. They also brought vinyl, but no one really knew what to do with it. On the one hand, it seemed like a fashionable thing, on the other hand, no one understood music. Well, they knew Tom Jones, the Paul Mauriat orchestra, The Beatles... Our people, out of greed, bought vinyl at sales, and there, oddly enough, they came across interesting things. So I selected them. He kept the best, sold the rest - for the same money. It wasn't a business - I could just listen a lot and keep a lot for myself. Well, some things have accumulated.”

Other collectors speak with a mixture of envy and admiration about what exactly has accumulated there. “I wouldn’t mention any forty-five, Boris is right there - but I have seven of them! — said DJ Misha Kovalev. “Well, seven times, sell one,” I say. And he - no, how can I sell it? She's good! Boris has this logic: if he lets a good record slip out of his hands, then all sorts of fools will ruin it! It’s better to let it lie down.”

Simonov does not say out loud that compacts are for suckers, but in general the approach is clear. There is basically no vinyl in Transylvania. “How to trade the most expensive? These little people will come, start looking, touching, wanting to listen, God forbid, scratching them... Well, shouldn’t we kill them for this? Dangerous!"

In the Soviet Union, the life of a record was bizarre and often fleeting. “A fresh long-play cost 50-55 rubles. But in the early days it could cost 100. Some Creedence “Cosmo’s Factory” comes along and the “writers” who record music for money immediately grab it, transfer it to film from morning to night and justify their money many times over. After that, the record turns into mush.” There was no idea about rarities, curiosities, collector's editions - in short, about what is now called collectables and described in thick catalogs - there was no idea. “Even then I didn’t understand that the first printing is more valuable because it sounds better. What people are now paying a lot of money for - some original King Crimson, The Beatles on a yellow Parlophone - used to be something you could just kick with your foot.”

It was a world of complex schemes, endless chains, dotted lines “from the Bolshoi soloist to the composer Artemyev,” calls and resales, honest store managers, quiet swindlers and serious collectors - Dosi Shenderovich, Rudik the red and Rudik the black, Vasily Lvovich and Vasily Dmitrich. According to Simonov, there were at least several collections in Moscow that were an order of magnitude larger than his own. But this world seems to have ended long ago and irrevocably. It’s hard to imagine a young man who now goes to other people’s apartments to buy vinyl. Why and who might need this?

***

Vova Terekh, guitarist of the band “Roaring Strings”, is quite a young man, and has hardly heard of the two Rudiks. Tereh is standing in shorts in the middle of his two-room apartment, cigarette smoke hangs in the air, and there are records, records, and records all around. The only furniture is a bed, a table and a barbell. Terekh pours tea, puts a 1969 Edgar Broughton Band record on the player and, after waiting for the first chords, says what every collector says first: “Well, listen for yourself - it sounds completely different!”

Sound is what people are supposed to buy vinyl for. Vinyl has an analog sound, a compact has a digital sound: collectors call it flat, squeezed, unnatural - whatever, the main thing is that there is no life in it. “I wasn’t a maniac,” says Tereh. — I listened to compacts and collected a decent amount. And one day, for nostalgic reasons, I decided to listen to Deep Purple’s album “In Rock” - I loved it as a child. I bought a branded compact - everything seems to be in place, but the music is somehow not the same. I got another edition, then a remastered one, then an expensive Japanese one—it’s not the same. Well, one time while visiting I came across an old record, put it on the player - and realized that we were being deceived.”

“Back then there were no CDs, DVDs, or cassettes—vinyl was the only medium,” says Tereh, rummaging through the boxes. “All the best engineering minds in the world were focused on achieving perfect sound. Some records sound like that - you can’t believe they were recorded in ’68.” Collectors hate the word “remastering” especially fiercely: “Some guy sits and decides how to improve the old album. How does he know?! Well, yes, you can hear details there that were not heard before - so maybe you don’t need to hear them!”

Terekh collects garage, psychedelic, punk and krautrock; It’s clear that for him even holding the original edition of the legendary “Nuggets” record in his hands is already an adventure. Or find it on a junk compilation of Lou Reed - under a pseudonym, even before The Velvet Underground. All this is addictive: the same albums have different circulations, different versions, English, American and other editions. The most unpleasant thing is that their sound is also different. “American oak has such a mass, a deep path, and the sound really crushes. I like this one. The English ones sound completely different - no better, no worse, just different.” That’s why Terekh has seven of The Velvet Underground’s first albums, and all of them are different.

***

And, of course, design. To amaze the neophyte, he is always shown miracles and beauty. All this goes under the slogan “This doesn’t happen on CD.” The Faces' record makes the eyes roll. Sergeant Pepper includes a sergeant's mustache and epaulettes. The Jesus Loves the Stooges EP comes with special glasses that reveal a 3D dead donkey on one side of the sleeve and a 3D big-lipped Iggy on the other. The Jethro Tull "Stand Up" sleeve has paper cutouts of the members inside. Leather envelopes, gold embossing, colored vinyl, plastic windows, posters and inserts - quite a lot of things.

Dmitry Kazantsev, a designer and part-time blues musician, has about 5 thousand records - mostly old, American. Contrary to expectations, they do not take up much space - two large shelves, that is, half a room. The owner takes out a CD without looking: “What is there to compare? It is almost 9 times smaller than the plate. If you reduce the image by 9 times, all the details will be lost. The compact cannot be a collector's item at all. His price is ugh, nothing. It costs pennies to produce. And the record—that’s how much paper it took.”

There are unsorted stacks on the floor, on the chair, on the closet. Dmitry picks up the top plate and shows: “Well, here it is. The Beach Boys album "Love You". You first take it, look at it - what a brilliant design, how everything is thought out and drawn down to the smallest detail. Then you turn it over, and there in the middle of this brilliant design is some idiotic amateur photograph. And so you think, what kind of idiocy, you look at the name of the photographer, you think: how is this possible, is the photographer an asshole or who? That is... Do you understand? You haven’t even started listening to the record yet, and you’re already having so much fun!”

Kazantsev demonstrates rare common sense: he doesn’t chase different versions of one album, he’s seen collectables in his grave, he pays attention only to the music and the quality of the recording. “On the first albums of The Velvet Underground, it’s terrible what’s going on! And they play somehow, and the recording is monstrous. Or the first editions of The Beatles: they now cost crazy amounts of money, they are very difficult to get, and they are almost always killed, and most are generally monophonic. I’m also happy with later reissues.” But in the end he suddenly admits: “Here, of course, you need to understand... There are fewer and fewer records, and there are more and more of us. Almost all the vinyl in the world has already been collected, described, and prices are rising. And so you sit and think: maybe I should buy it for future use? Then it won’t happen.”

***

From this “for future use”, from thinking about the difference in sound, from the phrases “I’ll take two, one just in case,” a crazy collecting streak begins to beat in people’s heads. There are vinyl stores in Moscow, but real collectors don't go to them. At least not the ones that are visible. There are two or three points on Gorbushka, there is a strange store at Melodiya - with unopened Pugacheva from the warehouse, and of course, there is the Sound Barrier on Leninsky and its owner Pasha. Everyone has a lot of complaints about Pasha, but no one can compete with the “Sound Barrier”: there are more than a hundred thousand records here - and there is no such collection of Soviet vinyl anywhere else.

The quiet collector loves secret places - like the point in 1st Smolensky Lane, which is run by Andrei Mikhailov, also known as Andrei Daltonik. This is a room filled from floor to ceiling with records - not a sign, not a bell, not a hint. Here, as if by themselves, heartbreaking stories are born - about drunken collectors, perished collectors, about people who ate only canned food and corn without butter. One artist walked around and got drunk. There was one chemist who drank himself and drowned. There was a couple, mother and son, nicknamed the Doodle Sharks - tenacious as hell. We collected only classics, and only old 78 rpm records. Once they showed a record of Bella Vrubel - this is the wife of the artist Vrubel, she sang a little, recorded 3 or 4 records. The price is 1500 dollars, at least. And they bought it from an old woman for 50 rubles.

“The jazz that they collect or rock is nothing,” says a local consultant, thin, toothless, wearing a sweater that remembers Andropov. — But if you start collecting classics, that’s all. With ends. Take Mozart’s clarinet concerto: it’s in minor, then major, and then suddenly it throws you into the abyss. Hellish. The beginning is in the middle, the middle is at the end, the end is at the beginning - nothing is clear. Like Blavatsky. If you start collecting this stuff, it’s a lost cause. Classics—they stifle people.”

And then there are stamp makers or catalog makers - they collect entire catalogues: say, all the records released on the Vertigo label. It was said about Andrey Daltonik, who really loves Italo-disco, that he has 5,000 records from the German label ZYX Music in his collection. Andrey rejected the figure: “Yes, it turned out to be only three thousand. And yet I’m still missing 70 positions. Five thousand is if you count all my Eurodisco.” In total, his collection contains 12 and a half thousand records. “They are in a separate room, no problem. The family doesn't mind. But no one goes there without me.”

By all indications, vinyl is on the rise right now. The market is growing, sales are increasing, people are willing to pay big money. Sellers should be happy about this - but it seems to only irritate them. “I don’t like working with the same oligarchs. — The store owner frowns. “They are all in vain, they don’t know what they want.” Tiring people."

Those who don't know what they want buy their Deep Purple "In Rock" and walk away. There are some of our own left, and you can deal with them. This is a thin but strong network - a kind of collector's Web 2.0, a system of people who know each other, which no eBay auction can compare with. In addition, Mikhailov says that prices on eBay are often higher than his. “Since it became possible to buy from Russia, everything has skyrocketed incredibly. The hungry came. I just see it." It’s more difficult, but also more reliable, to use personal connections: somewhere in Sussex a box of unopened vinyl was found, and in Krasnoyarsk there is a buyer for it. And it will not end up on any eBay. An auction means anonymity, but collecting always means communication. On eBay, God forbid, they will deceive you, but even if a person deceives you, then here he is, right next to you. It is better to find your seller somewhere in America or people who travel to England, Japan, Finland and Holland for records. The main thing is to establish contact."

***

The dating network is also the network of contempt. Here everyone knows everyone and everyone can’t stand each other. Collectors of orchestras and music of the 50s - collectors of punk and psychedelia. Jazzmen - collectors of "Melody". Fans of prog rock from 1968-1971 - those who also love 1972-1973. Music lovers are hucksters. Hucksters - students. The students are Nazareth fans. Krautrock connoisseurs are Italo disco connoisseurs. Buyers of old vinyl are buyers of modern vinyl. Narrow specialists - broad ones. Connoisseurs of the classics - everyone else.

The lowest on the ladder of hatred are those who collect exotic music - Japanese pop, Dutch rock, African twists. In a small apartment where there is no space, but only paths to the bed, record player and electric organ, Misha Kovalev plays me a seven-inch record from some idiotic Dutch: bought at a flea market for one euro. Kovalev is a GITIS teacher and DJ. Collects all sorts of fun. I am very pleased that no one here is chasing this kind of thing: once in the “Sound Barrier” they managed to snatch part of the collection of Tsvetov, the main Soviet international Japanese specialist, - no one else needed the Japanese stage. Another time, a cabinet with Cuban music appeared there: the main Latin specialist in Moscow died, the widow brought everything “to Pasha.” Each record had a hand-painted bookplate, and in some places even homemade covers. The cabinet stood for a couple of days, we managed to dig up a few things, then the collection went to England - in the West, Cuban vinyls are terribly expensive. Collections of the dead are generally a rich topic. Relatives used to throw them away, sometimes taking them by truck to Gorbushka and selling them by weight. “We got a lot of good things like that,” said Simonov. “But I recently had a flood—it was only the records that were flooded from the dead.” I won’t take from the dead anymore, to hell with them.”

Kovalev says all the right words about sound, about the sense of time, about the fact that this music is simply not on CD - no one remembers groups that released three singles and fell apart, and there is nothing about them on the Internet. The main thing says in the end: in these records the music itself was somehow preserved. Life, warmth, breath - God knows what. And he listens to his seven-inch records, but he cannot listen to them, rewritten on CD. No cover, no envelope - he can’t even remember what it is. “I once walked into a DJ store in Amsterdam: thousands of records, all in white envelopes and with the names blurred out. I almost died there.”

And then, you can’t buy too much on vinyl: it’s expensive, it’s tedious, and you get tired of carrying it. Vinyl is selection, and selection is exactly what is needed now. Without search, without effort, without these seemingly absurd barriers, music withers, shrinks, disappears. It seems like there are gigabytes of everything - but there’s nothing to listen to. I don't want to.

“Go,” Kovalev advised at parting, “to Gorbushka. There people have been reselling the same records to each other for years. That's what they are - collectors."

***

The red tent in the courtyard of the Rubin plant is a strong place. People who collect only The Beatles or only “Canterburys” from the list and from the catalog, change Sweet to Slade and Slade to Boney M - they are all here. This is the Moscow Society of Philophonists in the form in which it is still alive. Saturday and Sunday - collection in the morning. Simonov, having heard about him, only said: “Well, they’re finished.”

Here is a man who has 4,000 records, and everything is only Deep Purple: all the editions, and all the solo albums, and the solo albums of everyone who played on the solo albums. There’s a Beatles specialist walking around: there are collections of eight thousand, young man, and only the Beatles. In the middle there is a specimen with glasses: he can’t say much, he can barely stand, and the neighbors are chasing him away because he seems to have shit himself - but he’s holding the string bag with the records tightly. “The oldest client,” says the current president of the society, half apologetically.

It smells of decay, greed and pepper. And also lack of will: it is not people who gather under this red tent, but the collections that have taken possession of them. Any collecting is, in essence, an absurd desire for order; to the opportunity to arrange, collect, preserve and describe at least a tiny piece of life. In the end, Deep Purple is not infinite, and nothing is infinite - sooner or later all the rarest positions will be closed, and the collection will become complete, perfect, perfect.

But there are no complete collections. You can collect “Melody” all your life, find rare Soviet jazz, recordings of drunken pianists - and completely accidentally find out that at the Tbilisi branch of “Melody” at night, on the third shift, for money they wrote and published fashionable music like cover versions of Nino Ferrera . These records are not in the official Melodiya catalogue, which means they do not exist - but they do exist. Or hear about the record library of a modest KGB officer from the 5th department, where they sent 20 copies of each (every!) Melodiev record - including prohibited ones. Where she is and what is there is unknown.

“Nobody really knows anything,” says Kazantsev. — There may be an envelope from one country, but the record was made in another. Released in Holland, written “Made in Sweden”, and made in England. Or they started printing on one label and finished printing on another. They sound different, but they differ only in that there is some tiny R there. Or it's not even worth it. No Internet will help you, this is not described in any catalogues. I have a Donovan record – no one can even figure out where it was made.”

Somewhere in the depths of Gorbushka, a fat man, surrounded by records, almost shouts: “You don’t know what collections are! You don't know what rarities are! These are not collectors, but wow! Real rarities are not sold, exchanged, shown, or talked about. Real collections do not fit in apartments! They are stored - in hangars! They are transported - by trucks! Obviously, I will never see them - amid conversations about labels, reprints, rarities and Evstigneev’s jazz record library, imaginary trucks slowly go into the distance. Like dreams of peace, like the ghost of a world where there is nothing but music. Like Moby Dick, who is completely impossible to catch up with.

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The heroes of this issue are Timur and Sonya Omar, DJs who have been collecting various things since childhood, but their main hobby is vinyl.

Timur:“I have been interested in collecting since childhood: at first there were labels from matchboxes, then they were sold in sets, then I collected bottle caps, and somewhere in the mid-eighties I had a large collection of stamps (about four large albums) and a collection of cars, which has survived to this day - mainly these are two brands: Siku And Matchbox.

At the beginning of the post-punk hobby, I collected any articles and clippings about Sisters of Mercy And Soulsie and The Banshees. I even went to the Lenin Library, where there was a selection of magazines Melody Maker And New Musical Express since the opening of the publications. My friend and I then looked through all the issues over an eight-year period, and they came out weekly, found pages associated with these groups and photocopied them.”

Sonya: “My story is somewhat different from Timur’s story: I was never inclined to collect, but since childhood I was terribly envious of the boys who always collected something - inserts, cars or something else, so I was always trying to do something collect, although I never succeeded"

Timur:"With the arrival DVD I collected everything VHS-cassettes in boxes and given away. I kept only the original videotapes with some old trash music. I still collect DVDs, the most valuable thing for me is the non-domestic part of the collection - class B movies, which I like: I adore the covers, posters of that period, it’s all great, the highest style in my understanding."

Timur:“It all started with records in 1986; before that I had quite an impressive collection of audio cassettes. Their parents brought them - it was exclusively pop music: Italians, Jacksons, even something from rock music, there was a cassette Nazareth. Then I regularly began to attend Saturday meetings of philophonists, which took place at the Gorbunov House of Culture, “Tolkuchki” on Thursdays on Preobrazhenka. That’s how I got involved in this whole story and that’s how my taste began to form: first the wave Depeche Mode, Yello, Art Of Noise, Tangerine Dream, then it all turned into punk rock, from punk rock to post-punk, then industrial went, in parallel easy listening, exotica. As a result, the collection contains everything: it doesn’t only include classic rock and certain genres of dance music - progressive house, jungle, drum"n"bass.

It’s difficult for me to say exactly about the number of records; besides, there is a certain dynamics here - at times it increases, at times it decreases. I even analyzed it, it is seasonal - at times I get infuriated by all the music, I take a huge number of records off the shelves, put them up for sale, and at times, on the contrary, I buy a lot of music. I think I have about five thousand records now."

Selected records of Timur Omar

Sonya:“I started collecting records when I became very interested in electronic music. I started listening to all this when I was twelve, but the sources from which I could get an idea of ​​what was happening in the world of music appeared later - the radio stations “Substance”, “Radio 106.8” and the magazine “Ptyuch”. I bought my first vinyl when I was about thirteen years old, when I went to Prague with my parents. In general, I didn’t have a passion for collecting, but I had a huge passion for music, and when records started falling into my hands, I realized that this was an opportunity to structure music for myself in some way, to feel it tactilely. It’s pointless to compare my collection with Timur’s, but it contains the records that I really like. Probably six hundred records or so."

Selected records by Sonia Omar

Timur:“In Moscow, quite a lot of people are involved in collecting vinyl, I think that I simply don’t know a lot of collectors, but at the same time I know people, compared to whom my collection is simply insignificant - their entire apartments are filled with vinyl. One of the fairly powerful collectors is Boris Simonov, the owner of the Transylvania store; his apartment is filled with records. But this is a different story - he collects from a certain era. Quite a conceptual act"

Sonya:“I think that in order to collect something, you need to be passionate about it. Probably, people who collect earbuds or something like that like them - they like the way they look or some tactile sensations. I don't think people do it out of boredom. A person may have many tasks in life, but he needs to be distracted by something: a hobby exists for this purpose, so that a person can escape from the reality around him in a painless way, as long as it is on a reasonable scale.”

You can view the collection of Timur and Sonya.

Buro 24/7 talked to people for whom vinyl is more valuable than life

Moor, SuperDJ

How much does he spend on records?

Almost everything. I leave at least for life.

The most valuable specimen

It's very difficult. It's the same as saying what your favorite record is. You can’t name your favorite one, because there are others, and the question immediately arises, why are they needed? But I have an INXS record from, I think, 1985, autographed by Michael Hutchence and the whole band. It is more valuable than anything else.

Object of desire

There is a wishlist with about 5 thousand positions. I recently had a bag with 80 records stolen, and now I really want to restore everything I lost. This is my number 1 desire now.

Where does he buy it?

Online stores, markets, vinyl fairs... When I travel abroad, I try to find vinyl stores. You can always find something for yourself in any of them. And in which online stores is this secret information.

Who has the best collection

A record collection is tailored to the person who collects it. Collecting for the public is not a collection. For further sale - also not a collection. A collection is when the chosen music causes a shiver, a heartbeat, you want to own it, that’s why you collect it. For this reason, losing 80 records is like losing a part of yourself.

What to lose on

Nowadays they produce a lot of all kinds of equipment. In the 80s, the Chinese made a bunch of tape recorders: the sound was plastic, impossible to listen to. This suited some people, while others bought expensive cassette players. The main thing in a turntable is how it spins, everything else is the speakers. Also, a lot depends on the needle. There are players that many people don't even play records. You put them on, and the record jumps. Vinyl is different, it can be heavy, and the needle has to cope with it.

I have three record players at home. Just because I'm a DJ.

Andrey Smirnov, founder of the Aby Sho Music vinyl label

(released on records by Onuka, The Hardkiss, Brutto)

How much does he spend on records?

It's difficult to answer. I order from a supplier in bulk, he sends it to me once every six months. A total of 800-900 dollars.

The most valuable specimen

A few years ago I released Depeche Mode vinyl - it was the first Ukrainian release, and I have the first record out of three hundred. This is my favorite. And in terms of money, the first pressing of Pink Floyd's The Dark Side of the Moon album cost me £600.

Object of desire

A record by Japanese porn star Reiko Ike, which was released only in Japan in the late 1960s and early 1970s. I'm looking for a first press, it costs about 500-600 euros, I'm still trying to find it cheaper.

Where does he buy it?

Where I see it. Overseas, on Discogs and eBay. I order from the supplier from the list of new products that he provides me.

Who has the best collection

I have never measured myself by collections. Everyone has their own: one of my friends collects only autographed records, another collects old first-press rock records, someone collects more DJ music. I'm closer to my collection.

What to lose on

Everyone chooses for themselves. Many people have a negative attitude towards DJ equipment. Real music lovers dream of some kind of “airplane” for 10-15 thousand euros, so that it sounds best. But I am far from prejudice and play everything on a regular DJ turntable.

Vadim Glina, entrepreneur

How much does he spend on records?

Sometimes it's $20, sometimes it's nothing. I buy and sell records, do business [Vadim has a point on the Petrovka market, pavilion A28. - Buro 24/7], because my expenses are such that I can recoup what I spent. It also happens that I buy a record that I’ve been dreaming of for a long time, listen to it, but I don’t like it. You have to sell or change, but sell more often.

The most valuable specimen

This is a Let It Be - The Beatles box. It includes the box itself, the record, the poster and the book. In 1970 it cost about 20 pounds, and nowadays it costs about 4,000 dollars. At that time it was crazy money. Also a promotional copy of The Doors - they were printed to send to radio stations and music critics.

Object of desire

It’s so hard to choose... Just imagine: you are sitting at the table, and in front of you are oysters, black caviar, works of culinary art. It's very difficult to choose. That's how it is here.

Where does he buy it?

On eBay, for example. In general, a narrow circle of music lovers brings me records for sale, and I choose. It could be vinyls, which are in every home, or some kind of Soviet pop music. And there is, for example, Larisa Mondrus, a singer who emigrated to Germany, where she released several albums that were not successful. In the USSR, her records were published in envelopes by Sovetskaya Estrada with abstract designs. And now Larisa Mondrus, whose record was worth nothing, is valued at $25.

Who has the best collection

Everyone thinks they have the best collection. In Los Angeles I went to one store, where a person had about 100 thousand records for sale. His own collection is about 25 thousand. At the same time, he also has the rarest vintage audio equipment.

What to lose on

A record that was produced in Britain should be played on British equipment, in the Soviet Union - on Soviet equipment. Each manufacturing country has its own standard.

Do you have a couple of old records stashed away that you'd like to sell? There are plenty of collectors out there who would be willing to buy a stack of old records that you've treasured over the years. Well, few records are worth a lot of money, so read this article carefully - you may be just steps away from getting a decent reward for them!

Steps

Search and sell records

Go through your music library - attics, basements and closets. You might be able to make some money this way and free up valuable space in your home for other purposes. The following may be valuable: LP Long Play, LP from long-playing - long-playing 25 and 30 cm discs, play at 33 1/3 rpm), 78s (several fragile discs, play at 78 rpm on each side) and 45s (17 - centimeter discs, play at 45 rpm).



Set aside any records you want to get rid of and get ready to benefit from your past.



Study supply and demand. How rare is the recording? If millions of such records were initially sold, it is likely that the buyer would be more willing to buy it from a music store with good storage conditions or from someone else. Scarcity is what matters! There must be a demand for this recording for the following reasons: the particular artist (for example, a great talented musician who died young and did not make many recordings), the label on which it was recorded (in the original recording, as opposed to a “reissue”), or an unusual feature of the record (for example, a V-disc, a wartime recording, clippings taken from radio broadcasts, an original picture, or a 10-inch LP). The “out-of-print” record (no longer produced) is also considered to be in short supply; there are fewer such offers on the market. So-called “bootlegs” (recordings made illegally from live concerts or broadcasts) are also valuable to collectors.



Check the recording status. If the record is in mint or mint condition, the record will have the highest value. A recording in "Very Good" condition should show no distortion or degradation in sound quality. "Good" means that there may be some defects, but it is tolerable. "Acceptable" means that the record can play, but will produce noise and distract from the listening experience, reducing the value of the recording. Records with scratches on the surface are worth little or nothing. Some sellers have their own evaluation criteria.



Think about the content of the post. Generally speaking, interest in music is much higher than in the field of humorous recordings, and the cost of music records, as a result, will also be higher. Some types of music records sell for very high prices. The greatest market and monetary value tends to be jazz records, old Broadway originals, and movie soundtracks. In addition, early rhythm and blues recordings are considered collectible. Among classical recordings, orchestral performances are considered the most valuable, followed by instrumental, chamber music and concertos, solo vocal and operatic arias, and finally complete opera. For some collectors, the type of recording is important - mono or stereo, which, accordingly, affects the final cost of the record. See tips below.



Find the right buyer for your treasure. Records are purchased by collectors, mail-ordered by dealers, used by record stores, and by ordinary people (sometimes out of nostalgia or love for the artist; in addition, some music lovers believe that the sound of a high-quality vinyl recording is better than that of a CD or other media ). For truly rare records, the best prices may come from dealers who know the market like the back of their hand and what they can resell them for. Collectors are emotional, sometimes reaching the point of fanaticism in order to complete their collection. They can pay a lot for a special piece. Getting a rare recording by a popular artist for an affordable price, including only the cost price without any markup from resellers, is a rarity.



Research the market first. Careful observations, along with knowledge of the recording industry and its artists, are necessary to determine the value of a particular recording. Once (and if) you determine that the record is truly rare, you will be better able to determine its value. To gain a deeper understanding of pricing, read the tips below.



1. Recently, rock records from the “early vintage” era have begun to be in demand on the market, especially from deceased cult figures such as Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison. In addition, there is now a lively trade among collectors of 45s, especially 1950s R&B and early rock. Of great interest are rare and unusual recordings (on matters of foreign policy, etc.), compositions by Elvis Presley and the Beatles. Also of significant interest are the recordings that are sold with posters of the performers.