So today the postman brought me my long-awaited copy of Momofuku, the late-breaking, just-released-yesterday new album from Elvis Costello and The Imposters. I've been badgering Elvis's People to send me a review copy ever since I head it was coming out, which was not very long ago. Elvis addresses the record's quick genesis ("The record was made so quickly that I didn't even tell myself about it for a couple weeks") and novel release strategy -- vinyl yesterday; MP3 as a courtesy to those who bought the vinyl next week; CD on May 6 (which is how I'm justifying reviewing it in the May 4 edition of "Media Mix" in the Paper of Record) -- in a post on his refurbished official website:
" . . . The real version [emphasis mine] is pressed on two pieces of black plastic with a hole in the middle. You may prefer other, more portable, less scratchable, editions that will soon become available for your convenience but this is how it sounds the best: with a needle in a groove, the way the Supreme Being intended it to be . . . "
This is maybe not the wisest thing for a semi-professional music writer to confess, but I do not own the requisite equipment to play those two pieces of pierced black plastic. The record player I used to play my complete music library on vinyl circa 1987 (Michael Jackson's Thriller, the soundtrack album to Oliver Stone's Oscar-winning Vietnam movie Platoon, and a copy of George Michael's Faith I got as a radio station giveway -- B106, I think it was) might still be resting beneath a shroud of dust in my folks' basement. I may have to go find out sooner than later, since my review is due Monday, and the Best Buy that just opened up around the corner a couple of weeks ago does not stock turntables.
Weirdly enough, the first phone call I got after first opening Momofuku 's gatefold sleeve (so much more inviting than a CD, though that die-cut cut sleeve for the Flight of the Conchords CD is pretty nice) was from Noted Actor Steve Beall, which was propitious and surprising for three reasons:
1) Steve is an unreformed vinyl advocate;
2 ) Steve was actually at that great 9:30 show I reviewed last May where Elvis performed "American Gangster Time," the only song on this thing that I've actually heard; and
3) Steve never calls me. Ever. Today was only the second time.
Since Steve is always going on about "180-gram" vinyl (grams are like horsepower, apparently, or the bit rate of a compressed audio file; more = better), I asked him how I could tell if the 12-inch grooved black plastic disc in my hand was "180 gram."
"If you hold it in your hand, and you whip it back and forth, you can tell," said Steve. "If it's stiff, then it's probably 180-gram."
"Okay," I said. "Whipping."
"You really have to whip it kind of hard."
"Don't worry," I told him. "No one will ever know we had this conversation."