What Shakespeare said about vinyl and digital.

What Shakespeare said about vinyl and digital. Poetic license and copyright Jim Rivers

Friends, Texans, music lovers, Lend me your ears;
I come to raise up vinyl, not bury it.
The evil that digital does lives after it;
The good oft interred below the 0's and 1's;
So let us bury CD. The noble Sony
Hath told you CD was perfect sound forever:
If it were so, it was a grievous jitter,
And grievously hath CD answer'd it.
Here under leave of vinyl and the rest -
For vinyl is an honourable sound;
So is music all, all honourable sounds-
Come I to speak in CD's funeral.
He, also, was my friend, not so faithful but just OK to me:
But Sony says he was perfect;
And Sony is an honourable company.
Sony hath brought many CD's home to music rooms
Whose ransoms did the stockholder's coffers fill:
Did this in CD seem perfect?
When our vinyl hath sang, digital hath wept:
Perfect sound should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Sony says CD was perfect;
And Sony is an honourable company.
You all did see that on our audio systems
We often presented new digital formats,
Which our ears just as often refused: was this perfect sound?
Yet Sony says it was perfect sound;
And, sure, Sony is an honourable company.
I speak not to disprove what Sony spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all do still love vinyl, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then, to listen to vinyl more?
O judgment! thou art fled to brutish formats,
And men have lost faith in their hearing. Trust your ears with me;
My heart is on the turntable there with vinyl,
And I must pause as true sound comes back to me.
Ò¿Ò jim...

It seems Shakespeare was way ahead of his time. In 1996, I wrote a poem with a similar slant, which I'll paste below.

I think the main drawback to vinyl, these days, is that new releases by prominent artists are not usually released on vinyl. And I have to admit that in recent years, CD playback has evolved into a much more convenient and satisfying medium.

Best regards,
Frank :)

© 1996 Frank Alles

Music is the heart
The soul of all mankind
They emptied out his heart
Then sold it to his mind

They took apart his body
Transposing bits in time
Careful not to notice
They’d built a Frankenstein!

Banished bits in limbo
Marching in a maze
Reminisce of bygone hits
They sang in younger days

Paint by number art is just
A scene that doesn’t rhyme
It doesn't seem to fit
It will not stand the time

But now the seeds are sewn
At last their flag's unfurled
Skull and crossbones of
A dead, digi-ready world
Albert, That's a cute little Hussey
Plato: Frank, Very nice poem. I'll have to share that with friends if you don't mind. Thanks Ò¿Ò jim...

Sure, you're welcome to pass my poem along to friends. Thank you for the compliment.

Frank :)

I really enjoy reading this thread!! can I use these poems in my future book on LP?