Psychotic Record Organization

So the other day I picked up, among a few other esoteric records, a copy of Sonny Bono’s album, Inner Views. Panned at the time, hipsters and cognoscenti have reappraised the album, calling it a misunderstood masterpiece, a peculiar psychedelic artifact, and a brilliant piece of outsider art made by the ultimate insider. Frankly I wouldn’t go that far, but it is an entertaining listen, and I can imagine myself spinning it again. I put it up on my shelf under “S” for Sonny, awaiting my next listening perhaps in the next four or five years. Some would, and have said that that is not proper organization.

Record collecting has to be a sign of mental illness. I say this as an avid music fan and rabid collector himself, though my collection of consists of just under a paltry two thousand vinyl LPs, and about a thousand CDs. This is not a humble brag; this is simply to illustrate that, in the scheme of things, I am only a mild obsessive. I am usually content with one copy of an album, as opposed to ensuring that I have every different new edition on every format that I may or may not have the ability to play. I suppose I just don’t care enough about music. After all, my set up is not equipped to play 8-Track cartridges, 78 rpm records, or wax cylinders.

I am a member of several fan groups on social media, and it seems that a major pastime of many participants is to take pictures of their collections, showing just how many copies they possess of each release. They make me seem quite tame by comparison. (I will confess that I have owned five copies of Huey Lewis and The News’ Sports. I am not obsessed, it just happened that way, replacing copies that were destroyed on the floor of my mom’s car, finding a copy for fifty cents in the cheapo bin to replace both of those lost or fucked up cassettes, later finding a CD in a thrift shop so I could get the album onto my iPod, and the later fining myself in possession of a Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab LP just because one of my Mom’s friends was getting rid of some shit… But I digress.) However, I speak primarily for myself when I say that there is a connection between compulsive obtainment and obsessive organization. The temperament must lend itself to both habits, and that it is also quite fortunate. Imagine having thousands of records and not knowing how to find any of them in that giant mess.

There is a scene in the film High Fidelity, a movie that I both love and abhor, in which two of the obsessive collectors compare notes about organization. The protagonist explains that his organizational system for his records does not follow any conventional rules, but is pure idiosyncrasy tied to his own neuroses and nostalgia. “I can tell you how I got from Deep Purple to Howlin’ Wolf in just twenty-five moves. And if I want to find the song “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac, I have to remember that I bought it for someone in the Fall of 1983 pile, but didn’t give it to them for personal reasons.”

Hey, as long as he can find what he’s looking for.

Personally, I go Genre → Alphabetical by artist → Chronological within artists’ catalogs. It sounds specific, but it already leaves too much room for interpretation. For example, for bands that release a lot of archival material, do you sort it in the order of recording or order of release? You may laugh, but you try to figure out a consistent logic when dealing with a band like the Grateful Dead and their copious amounts of live releases, both contemporaneous and retrospective, their Dick’s Picks, Dave’s Picks, and Road Trips. How are you gonna find that Ithaca show that everyone always raves about?

A needle in a haystack

In polling other record collectors, I have found basically two basic methods: The Library Method and the Record Store Method. The Library Method is pretty self-explanatory and is pretty close to what I do. The Record Store Method is a bit more idiosyncratic. Now, when I’m talking about a record store, I mean a proper record store. I don’t mean a Sam Goody, or HMV, or Strawberries, or any of those other places that stopped existing around the time iTunes became a thing. I’m talking about a place that sells used vinyl and has, well, geeks like me behind the counter.

The record store method groups things together that are connected in other ways, usually collecting side and solo projects alongside a parent band. Example: Were you to walk into Bleecker Bob’s (okay, you can’t do that since that’s gone too) or Academy Records in New York, you would find albums by Mike and The Mechanics, Anothony Phillips, and Peter Gabriel under Genesis. Is this good for Genesis fans? Sure. Is it somewhat disrespectful of the artists (particularly those who had left the band) who doubtless want their solo work to stand on its own outside of the band? Also, yes. Is it annoying for Phil Collins fans who won’t find their favorite artist under “C,” the logical spot for it? Once again, yes.

The Record Store method presupposes knowledge of music and groups. That is its major flaw.

What are the flaws with the Library Method? Well, aside from the chronology issue (largely not dealt with in actual libraries), there is the opposite problem when it comes to grouping. Here are some examples to bend your brain. Where would you file Iggy Pop? Probably under “P,” right? Now where would file the Stooges? “S,” obviously. Now where would you file Iggy and the Stooges?

Here’s an easier one: Where do you file The Modern Lovers? Where do You file Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers? I consider that one easy because the Modern Lovers were a unique band that was fronted by Jonathan Richman that existed between 1970 and 1974, whereas Jonathan Richman later resurrected the name for his ever-changing backing band in 1976. Not the same, and not in the same place on my shelf.

Am I insane for even dwelling on this? Probably. Welcome to the mind of a record collector. Fortunately, I am not alone. A record collector’s forum that I frequent yielded comments such as:

“File it where you’ll remember it. My Mott the Hoople records are all under H for Ian Hunter, all of the solo Beatles have their own section by their last names (and yes, “Wings” is under “M”), all of my Funkadelic, George Clinton etc are under “P” for “P-Funk”. I would never argue to defend my choices. I just know that my collection is big and I don’t want to waste time hunting for albums if I don’t have to.”

“I struggle with alphabetization too. My Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers are all under T, as is Johnny’s solo stuff. And, in violation of several laws I am sure, I have Iggy Pop solo and Iggy & the Stooges all under P. Blasphemy, I know, but at least I can find them.”

“I’m so OC, I file it by year recorded, then within each year, geographically east to west, north to south. Try it! It’s great for context[.]”

I’m pretty sure that last one was a joke.

So why did I file the Sonny Bono album under S? Because in spite of the fact that most of us know the former Congressman and Mayor of Palm Springs as Sonny Bono, he released this album, his sole solo release, under the mononym “Sonny.” If he released any other albums under his surname, maybe that would be a different story. As it is, it sits on the shelf next to Look at Us, by Sonny and Cher.

I feel good about this decision.