To summarize the science, digital is the superior reproduction format, but analog (particularly vinyl) offers a particular type of sound that some people prefer. I liken it to a Ferrari versus a Mustang. They may have different metrics, but the people who like them for what they are don't care so much about that.
The best argument in favor of vinyl recordings need not be bolstered by unsupported claims about the technical quality of the recording, and that's the physical, tangible experience. Lowering a needle onto a record engraved with an actual audio waveform is comparable to building your own hot rod with greasy hands and case hardened tools. Its performance compared to that of a factory produced BMW is simply not relevant. It's about an experience, not about metrics or tabulated results. More senses are involved: the smell of the album cover, the touch of lowering the tone arm into the groove, the sight of the stroboscope indicating the precise turntable speed. It's a full experience to which the listener must dedicate focused attention and time. Vinyl records are a hands-on, personal connection to the actual audio, and that's something no amount of digital perfection can replicate. You can debate the validity of that connection all you want, and you'll find that it's a metaphysical, philosophical issue. There is no logic or practical connection. But some things, these types of connections — those for which no practical, quantitative explanation exists — are sometimes the most important.
The best argument in favor of vinyl recordings need not be bolstered by unsupported claims about the technical quality of the recording, and that's the physical, tangible experience. Lowering a needle onto a record engraved with an actual audio waveform is comparable to building your own hot rod with greasy hands and case hardened tools. Its performance compared to that of a factory produced BMW is simply not relevant. It's about an experience, not about metrics or tabulated results. More senses are involved: the smell of the album cover, the touch of lowering the tone arm into the groove, the sight of the stroboscope indicating the precise turntable speed. It's a full experience to which the listener must dedicate focused attention and time. Vinyl records are a hands-on, personal connection to the actual audio, and that's something no amount of digital perfection can replicate. You can debate the validity of that connection all you want, and you'll find that it's a metaphysical, philosophical issue. There is no logic or practical connection. But some things, these types of connections — those for which no practical, quantitative explanation exists — are sometimes the most important.
