Yugovinyl is specialized in selling rare vinyl records (LP, SINGLES), from ex Yugoslavia. Also we offer a large amount of original and licence pressings
Address Cetinjska 15. Belgrade Serbia Phone 00381 69 801 5004
Yugovinyl is specialized in selling rare vinyl records (LP, SINGLES, 12“, 10“), from ex Yugoslavia. Also we offer a large amount of original and licence pressings from USA, Asia (India, Japan, Taiwan…), Europe and from other parts of the world.
Yugovinyl prodavnica gramofonskih ploča
Prodavnica u ponudi ima više od 20000 lp i singl ploča. Osim prodaje prodavnica vrši i otkup gramofonskih ploča.
Niska straćarica sa ulazom nalik na vrata i prozore koji se obično
postavljaju na balkone ili terase oblepljeni zastarelim novitetima od
pre nekoliko godina. Na krovu, sa padom ka ulici, tačno na samoj sredini
pojavljuje se novi, mali krov koji možemo da sretnemo u crtanim
filmovima kao skrovište za ptice. Dvorište je skučeno sa nastrešnicom za
lozu ili neko puzavo cveće, a kućica je do pola ušuškana u izolaciju.
Sve to izgleda kao ona mesta gde se čuvaju najveće dragocenosti.
Neupadljiva, nikome zanimljiva pomalo strašno iz zida izvučena reklama
sa nazivom prodavnice, „Jugovinil“.
Sezame otvori se!
Bandera postavljena ispred vrata na uskoj stazi pravi probleme
prilikom ulaska, koji odmah po tom nestaju. Prvo što sačeka dobroćudnog
kupca, u nameri da iznenadi prijatelja zaluđenog za gluposti poput ploča
ili da obnovi, popuni i osveži svoju kolekciju, jeste polica u visini,
malo ispod prosečne visine čoveka, onda nakon prvobitne pometnje kreće
pravo uživanje.
Kad je cvetala vutra.
Bez posebnog mirisa, očekivanog za zatvoreni prostor sa mnogo
plastike, kartona i najlona, kruži zvuk najfinijih melodija. Možda Zapa
nije razmišljao o tome, proizvodeći svoju muziku, da će se u doba nula i
jedinica vrteti njegove pesme. Desno od ulaza, na pultu sličnom
kafanskom šanku od cigala iza kojeg je zid prepun različitih uspmena i
značajnih sitnica, verovatno za vlasnika, na barskoj stolici sedi visok
ali izuzetno poletan, jedini prodavac koji savršeno poznaje ovu oazu.
Vrh te zastrašujuće police sa ulaska pretrpan je starim časopisima,
različitim, među kojima se nalazi knjiga sa naslovom „Kad je cvetala
vutra“. Zidovi su pretvoreni u police u kojima se na najpažljiviji način
čuvaju dragocena izdanja ploča. Svaki red nosilaca zvuka je označen
metalnim natpisom razvrstavajući žanr muzike. Iza šanka i prvog udara
ploča, nalazi se naizgled prostraniji deo prostorije. Samo na prvi
pogled, jer je ispod polica poslagano mnoštvo identičnih plastičnih
posuda, kao one koje mogu da se kupe za peškire u kupatilu, prepune
različitih muzičara. Pregršt izdavačkih kuća, mnoštvo retkih primeraka,
onih koje je zastrašujuće teško pronaći dostiže broj od dvadeset hiljada
i nalazi se u ovom, naizgled magacinu, ali kada se u njemu provede
neko vreme zaista domaćinskom prostoru sa prijatnom atmosferom.
„Mi smo druga ruka ploča.“ odgovarao je prodavac ljubopitljivoj grupi kupaca.
Dva ogomna zvučnika i stalak sa nekoliko gramofona olakšavaju posao u
traženju onoga što nas interesuje. Preko puta gramofona čeka stolić sa
dve pohabane fotelje u kojima kupci mogu da se odmore, budu posluženi
pićem ili jednostavno uživaju opuštajući se. Zamorno je i krajnje
nepotrebno govoriti o tome koliko ploča i gde se nalaze ploče u
Jugovinilu, a kada bismo pokušali da nabrojimo izvođače potrošili bismo
nekoliko meseci života radeći svakodnevno. Posebno zanimljivo izgleda
polica sa klasicima svetske književnosti, koja ovde ukrašava prostor na
začelju radnje i stepenice koje vode najverovatnije u podrum iskorišćen
za skladištenje onoga što ne može da stane u izloge ili onoga što
onemogućava kretanje. Jedino mesto gde ploča nema jeste plafon, koji je i
pored truda da se ulepša prostor požuteo na nekim mestima i veoma naduo
od posledica lošeg krova i kiše. Ali eto i na njemu se mogu pronaći
koncem okačene male ploče kao ukrasi. Kažu da cveće voli muziku, a ovde
cveće u saksijama više izgleda na travke udarene gradom i spržene
Suncem. One su ipak tu samo da kupe vodu na mestima gde prokišnjava.
Tiho i mirno, svako po svom ukusu, i veoma pažljivo da se ne bi nešto
srušilo, ljudi tolerantno i veoma kulturno tragaju za svojim izvorom
uživanja. Svetlo u prodavnici postaje jače od onog prirodnog i uskoro će
dan promeniti svoju stranu ploče.
Sezame, zatvori se!
Sledeći uspešnu tradiciju foto
berze, odlučili smo da organizujemo sličnu manifestaciju sa audio
tematikom. Posetioci su imali priliku da se upoznaju sa širokom ponudom
polovnih (a i novih) audio uređaja i prateće opreme, originalnih izdanja
nosača zvuka, kao i da uspostave kontakte sa ljudima iz sveta audio
tehnike kod nas.
U nedelju 31.01.2016. godine u prostorijama Centra
Urbane Kulture Imago, Dečanska 14 u periodu od 11 do 16 sati održaće se
Velika berza ploča, cd-a i audio opreme. Posetioci će u klimatizovanom
prostoru, površine od preko 600 kvadratnih metara, biti u prilici da
razmenjuju i prodaju polovne i dobro očuvane ploče, kompakt diskove i
audio opremu. U Centru Urbane Kulture Imago ova manifestacija održavaće
će se svakog meseca. Promotivne cene pića. Besplatna garderoba. Dužni
metar prostora za izlaganje iznosi 300 dinara, a ulaz za posetioce 120
dinara. Dobrodošli. Informacije i rezervacije na telefon 064 520 74 78
U nedelju 10. 01. 2016. godine u prostorijama Centra Urbane Kulture
Imago, Dečanska 14 u periodu od 11 do 16 sati održaće se Velika berza
ploča, cd-a i audio opreme.
Posetioci će u klimatizovanom prostoru, površine od preko 600
kvadratnih metara, biti u prilici da razmenjuju i prodaju polovne i
dobro očuvane ploče, kompakt diskove i audio opremu. U Centru Urbane Kulture Imago ova manifestacija održavaće će se svakog meseca. Promotivne cene pića. Besplatna garderoba.
PRODAJA POLOVNIH I NOVIH GRAMOFONSKIH PLOCA I KNJIGA. PRODAVNICA PLOCA U PONUDI IMA VISE OD 20 000 LP I SINGL PLOCA I NEKOLIKO HILJADA KNJIGA. OSIM PRODAJE VRSIMO I OTKUP DOBRO OCUVANIH GRAMOFONSKIH PLOCA.
Thirty years ago this month, Dire Straits
released their fifth album, Brothers in Arms. En route to becoming one
of the best-selling albums of all time, it revolutionised the music
industry. For the first time, an album sold more on compact disc than on
vinyl and passed the 1m mark. Three years after the first silver discs
had appeared in record shops, Brothers in Arms was the symbolic
milestone that marked the true beginning of the CD era.
“Brothers in Arms was the first flag in the ground that made the
industry and the wider public aware of the CD’s potential,” says the
BPI’s Gennaro Castaldo, who began a long career in retail that year. “It
was clear this was a format whose time had come.”
As Greg Milner writes in his book Perfecting Sound Forever,
the compact disc became “the fastest-growing home entertainment product
in history”. CD sales overtook vinyl in 1988 and cassettes in 1991. The
12cm optical disc became the biggest money-spinner the music industry
had ever seen, or will ever be likely to see. “In the mid-90s, retailers
and labels felt indestructible,” says Rob Campkin, who worked for HMV
between 1988 and 2004. “It felt like this was going to last for ever.”
It didn’t, of course. After more than a decade of decline, worldwide
CD income was finally surpassed by digital music revenues last year.
With hindsight, it’s clear that technological changes had made that
inevitable, but almost nobody had foreseen it, because the CD was just
too successful. It was so popular and so profitable that the music
industry couldn’t imagine life without it. Until it had to.
In 1974, 28-year-old electronic engineer Kees Schouhamer Immink was
assigned to the Optics Group of Philips Research in Eindhoven, Holland.
His team’s task was to create a 30cm videodisc called Laservision, but
that flopped and the focus shifted to designing a smaller audio-only
disc. “There were 101 problems to be solved,” Immink says. Meanwhile, in
Japan, Sony engineers were working on a similar project. In 1979, Sony
and Philips made an unpredecented agreement to pool resources. For
example, Sony engineers perfected the error correction code, CIRC, while
Immink himself developed the channel code, EFM, which struck a workable
balance between reliability and playing time. “We never had people from
other companies in our experimental premises,” Immink says. “It was
unheard of. Usually you become foes, but in this case we really became
good friends, and we’re still friends after so many years. It was
remarkable, actually.”
In June 1980, after complicated negotiations in Tokyo and Eindhoven,
the so-called Red Book set standard specifications for the compact disc
digital audio format. The story goes that the size (12cm) and length (74
minutes, 33 seconds) were changed at the 11th hour when Sony’s
executive vice president Norio Ohga insisted that the disc should have
enough space for the longest recorded performance of Beethoven’s Ninth
Symphony, his wife’s favourite piece of music, but Immink suspects that
is a myth. There were so many technical and financial considerations
that it’s unlikely such a key decision came down to one woman’s love of
Beethoven.
The CD was introduced to the British public in a 1981 episode of the BBC’s Tomorrow’s World, in which Kieran Prendeville mauled a test disc of the Bee Gees’
Living Eyes to demonstrate the format’s alleged indestructibility. It
caught the public imagination, but Immink found the claim puzzling and
embarrassing because it was clearly untrue. “We should not put emphasis
on the fact it will last for ever because it will not last for ever,” he
says. “We should put emphasis on the quality of sound and ease of
handling.” (Paul McCartney recently recalled the first time George
Martin showed him a CD. “George said, ‘This will change the world.’ He
told us it was indestructible, you can’t smash it. Look! And – whack –
it broke in half.”)
The CD, demonstrated on BBC1’s Tomorrow’s World.
The engineers were evangelical about the CD’s superiority to vinyl
and cassette, but the industry and public still needed persuading. “I
was not convinced we would be a success at the time because I had seen
the failure of the videodisc, which was a nice product, technically
speaking,” Immink says.
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So,
in April 1982, representatives of Sony and Philips set off to
Billboard’s international music industry conference in Greece with a
spring in their step. The record industry was suffering a painful
recession (“Is Rock on the Rocks?” asked Newsweek) and this new digital
marvel was surely the solution. To the labels, however, it was an
invitation to gamble millions of dollars on a potential white elephant:
an alien format that was expensive to manufacture and expensive to buy.
Jerry Moss, chairman of A&M Records, claimed that the new format
would “confuse and confound the customer”. It was a rough conference.
“There were many black-disc lovers who didn’t want to change and said:
‘We don’t see why we have to go digital,’” Immink says.
At least Sony and Philips had their own record labels – CBS and
Polygram, respectively – so they pressed ahead. CBS released the world’s
first commercially available CD, a reissue of Billy Joel’s
52nd Street, in Japan in October 1982. Philips missed the production
deadline so the international release was put back to March 1983. It’s
hardly surprising that only 5.5m CDs and 350,000 players were sold that
year when so few titles were available.
Faced with low manufacturing capacity and high costs, labels trod
carefully. Jeff Rougvie, who later worked for the pioneering CD-only
label Rykodisc, was in retail at the time. He couldn’t even order
individual titles from Sony, only a predetermined box of six: “A couple
of classical titles, a couple of rock titles and Thriller. And of course
you’d sell Thriller and the other five would sit around. Labels thought
it was an audiophile-only product that was going to sell primarily to
classical music buyers. They did not see it as a mass-market format.”
Jon Webster, who worked at Virgin Records between 1981 and 1992,
remembers that the label’s first batch of CD releases included Mike
Oldfield’s Tubular Bells and Phil Collins’s
Face Value: albums likely to appeal to affluent early adopters with the
means to buy the discs and the expensive players. The first US CD
plant, in Terre Haute, Indiana, debuted in October 1984 with Bruce Springsteen’s blockbuster Born in the USA. Enter Dire Straits.
Aware that most consumers didn’t even know what digital audio was,
Sony and Philips had launched a promotional campaign on multiple fronts,
including advertisements, public demonstrations, product placement, and
special promotions for clubs, bars and radio stations. They also
courted studio engineers and artists. While analogue loyalists such as
Neil Young and Steve Albini railed against translating music into
soulless binary code, some high-profile audiophiles felt that this was
how music was meant to be heard. On first hearing a CD, the great
Austrian conductor Herbert von Karajan memorably declared: “Everything
else is gaslight.”
Dire Straits’ Mark Knopfler was an early convert (the second track on
Pure, Perfect Sound Forever, the motley 1982 compilation that came free
with early CD players, was Dire Straits’ Once Upon a Time in the West).
Knopfler insisted on recording Brothers in Arms on state-of-the-art
digital equipment, so a promotional partnership was a natural fit.
Philips sponsored Dire Straits’ world tour and featured the band in TV
commercials with the slogan, attributed to Knopfler: “I want the best.
How about you?”
“Brothers in Arms was an iconic release,” says Gennaro Castaldo. “The
CD came to symbolise the so-called yuppie generation, representing new
material success and aspiration. If you owned a CD player it showed you
were upwardly mobile. Its significance seemed to go beyond music to a
lifestyle statement.”
Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits, quick to see the potential of CD as a format. Photograph: Fin Costello/Redferns
Brothers in Arms coincided perfectly with an economic recovery, more
affordable CD players and the music industry’s post-Live Aid uptick.
Philips had predicted that annual worldwide sales would surpass 10m that
year while Sony anticipated twice that number. In fact, the figure was
61m, rising to 140m in 1986.
Yet the industry was still half-hearted when it came to back
catalogue. Rykodisc (“Ryko” is Japanese for “sound from a flash of
light”) realised there was big money to be made from consumers upgrading
their record collections to CD if enough care was devoted to
remastering, programming (ie, bonus tracks) and packaging. The newcomer
made big back-catalogue deals with Frank Zappa and David Bowie
because the majors weren’t interested. EMI, which had first dibs, told
Zappa: “No one will ever buy your stuff on CD.” “There wasn’t a real
good understanding on the majors’ side of what some of this stuff was
worth,” Rougvie says.
Eventually, even the slowest labels caught on. When Rob Campkin
started work at HMV’s flagship Oxford Circus, London, store in summer
1988, the entire CD inventory filled just five five-foot racks. By the
following summer, there were almost 40. “In those days, vinyl was very
flimsy,” he says. “Cassettes were completely disposable. When CD came
along and said this will last you a lifetime,customers really did lap it
up. It felt new, it felt shiny, it felt exciting.”
By the 1990s, the CD reigned supreme. As the economy boomed, annual
global sales surpassed 1bn in 1992 and 2bn in 1996, and the profit
margins were the stuff of dreams. The CD was cheaper than vinyl to
manufacture, transport and rack in stores, while selling for up to twice
as much. Even as costs fell, prices rose. “It was simple profiteering,”
says Stephen Witt, whose new book How Music Got Free
chronicles the industry’s vexed relationship with the MP3. “[Labels]
would cut backroom deals with retailers not to let the price drop. The
average price was $14 and the cost had gotten down almost to a dollar,
so the rest was pure profit.”
Jon Webster bristles at this claim. “What’s fair? The public says.
Supply-and-demand says. There were ignorant campaigns by the likes of
the Sun and the Independent on Sunday saying that these things cost a
pound to make. Well, that’s like saying a newspaper costs 3p to produce.
That doesn’t include the creativity and the marketing and the money it
costs to make the actual recordings.”
Whether or not the prices were justified, CDs sold in their billions
and flooded the industry with cash like never before. This enabled
labels to invest more heavily in new talent – Campkin suggests that
Britpop might not have happened without the CD windfall – but it also
funded misguided A&R frenzies, wasteful marketing and excessive pay
packets. “In the 90s we were awash with profitability and became fat, to
be honest,” says Webster.
Philips and Sony also reaped extraordinary sums from royalties on the
discs themselves, including billions of CD-Roms, although none of it
reached Immink and his colleagues. Under Japanese law, engineers were
entitled to a cut, but their Dutch counterparts had to settle for a
salary and a token one-dollar fee for each US patent they filed. “I’m
not saying it happened,” Immink says drily, “but what could have
happened is you work with a Japanese guy from Sony and he can buy a
yacht and the Dutch guy has to be happy with one dollar.”
Philips promotes its new compact disc.
As the decade wore on, there were tremors of unease. The industry was
running out of albums to reissue, battling over price with supermarkets
and big-box retailers, and disturbed by the introduction of CD burners.
“Arguably, it’s why they missed the MP3, because they were so concerned
about compact-disc burners,” says Witt. “If you read corporate
literature about forward-facing risks to the business in the late 90s,
this is one of the top things they’re talking about, if not the top. And
the impact was real. If bootleg discs flood the market they kill sales,
no question about it.”
Bootleg CDs were a danger the industry could get its head around –
you could hold one in your hand. What it couldn’t comprehend was the
threat of the MP3: the idea that music could transcend physical formats.
“That happened for two reasons,” says Witt. “One was they were enjoying
unbelievable profits. Two, the studio engineers hated the way the MP3
sounded and refused to engage with it. A lot of artists hated the way it
sounded, too.” What the audiophiles didn’t realise was that most
consumers couldn’t tell the difference. “What was the audio experience
before the compact disc?” says Witt. “It was cheap vinyl or an AM
transistor radio on the beach, and MP3 sounds better than either of
those.”
Rougvie suggests a third reason: fierce resistance from retailers
who, understandably, considered the MP3 an existential threat.
“Distributors and record stores were threatening to return every Ryko
title they had, just because we were selling 10 or 12 MP3s every week.
If that’s what we were feeling, I can only imagine what kind of pushback
EMI or Warners were getting.”
Just like their predecessors in Greece in 1982, 90s executives were
too busy worrying about the next quarter to consider the next decade.
The status quo was perfect, until it wasn’t. “My biggest bugbear about
this industry is that they all think short-term,” says Webster. “Nobody
ever thinks long-term. All these executives were sitting there being
paid huge bonuses on increased profits and they didn’t care. I don’t
think anyone saw it coming. I remember the production guy at Virgin
saying, ‘In a few years, you’re going to be able to carry all the music
you want around on something the size of a credit card.’ And we all
laughed. Don’t be ridiculous! How can you do that?”
The iPod, CD’s ultimate foe. Photograph: Sarah Lee
“The MP3 wasn’t just a new format, it was a whole new way of doing
things,” Castaldo says. “There was also the first dotcom boom and bust,
and I remember some people around me saying: ‘I told you it would never
take off. That’s not how people want to buy music.’ Obviously a
brand-new player like Apple could write the future as it saw it, but the
rest of us didn’t have such a blank sheet to start from.”
Only a handful of people predicted the CD’s downfall way back in
1982. German computer engineer Dieter Seitzer, the forefather of the
MP3, immediately considered the CD “a maximalist repository of
irrelevant information, most of which was ignored by the human ear,”
writes Witt. If music could become digital data, he thought, it wouldn’t
be bound by the Red Book. Webster remembers one industry Cassandra,
Maurice Oberstein – who ran CBS and then Polygram in the UK – making a
similar point. “He was the only one who went: ‘We’re making a huge
mistake. We’re putting studio-quality masters into the hands of people.’
And he was absolutely right in that respect. Once you made a CD with
ones and zeroes it was only a matter of time before that was converted
into something that was easily transferable.”
The fall of the CD, like its rise, began slowly. When file-sharing
first took off with Napster in 1999 and 2000, CD sales continued to
ascend, reaching an all-time peak of 2.455bn in 2000. Tech-savvy,
cash-poor teenagers stopped buying them but most consumers didn’t want
(or know how) to illegally download digital files on a slow dial-up
connection. So the market remained steady, artificially buoyed by
aggressive discounting.
It was the 2001 launch of the iPod, an aspirational premium product
which made MP3s portable, that turned the tide. “Before that the MP3 was
an inferior good,” Witt says. “Once you had the iPod, the CD was an
inferior good. It could get cracked or lost, whereas MP3 files lasted.”
Not pure, not perfect, but sound for ever.
The compact disc has proved surprisingly tenacious. It still
dominates markets such as Japan, Germany and South Africa; it makes for a
better Christmas present than an iTunes voucher; and it has some
hardcore enthusiasts. Jeff Rougvie is even planning to set up a boutique
CD label to reissue rare and out-of-print albums. “It defies
conventional wisdom but so did Ryko at the time. There’s an audience.”
But, insists Stephen Witt: “It’s dying. It will go obsolete like the
floppy disc did. It just always takes a little more time than you’d
think.”
Rob Campkin recently opened a record shop in Cambridge called Lost in Vinyl.
He only stocks a handful of the discs that were once the most lucrative
product in the history of music. “Margins are very slim,” he says. “I’d
have to sell three or four CDs for every one copy on vinyl. It wouldn’t
be worth my while.” How Music Got Free by Stephen Witt is published by Bodley Head on 18 June.
Ovaj sajt je posvećen
temama iz sveta audio tehnike, audiofilije, muzike i mnogim drugim vezanim za
uživanje u dobroj muzici i kvalitetnom zvuku.
---
MIKSER AUDIO MARKET (27. AUDIOBERZA U
BEOGRADU),
ODRŽAĆE ĆE SE 16. Novembra 2014.,
U MIKSER HOUSE, KARAĐORĐEVA 46 ---
A imam i tu čast da vam zakažem i sledeće viđenje za 21.12.2014..
Sledeći uspešnu tradiciju foto
berze, odlučili smo da
organizujemo sličnu manifestaciju sa audio tematikom. Posetioci su imali priliku
da se upoznaju sa širokom ponudom polovnih (a i novih) audio uređaja i prateće
opreme, originalnih izdanja nosača zvuka, kao i da uspostave kontakte sa ljudima
iz sveta audio tehnike kod nas.
U Mikser House-u će se u nedelju, 19. oktobra, od 12 do 17 časova
premijerno održati Mikser Audio Market, koji će na jednom mestu okupiti
sve ljubitelje dobrog zvuka i audio tehnike.
Redovno okupljanje audiofila, audio-tehničara i svih poštovalaca
dobrog zvuka, koja se od 2008. godine održava pod nazivom “Audioberza”,
sada se seli u novi, veći prostor u Karađorđevoj 46 i prerasta u Mikser
Audio Market.
Posetioci marketa će imati priliku da se upoznaju
sa širokom ponudom novih i polovnih audio uređaja i prateće opreme,
originalnih nosača zvuka, kao i da ostvare kontakt sa stručnjacima i
entuzijatima iz sveta audio tehnike.
Publiku na ovom
svojevrsnom prazniku zvuka i buke očekuje i veliki izbor ploča, LP
izdanja i diskova uz neizbežnu pozitivnu atmosferu.
Mikser Audio Market otvoren je od 12 do 17 časova, a ulaz je 120 dinara.
Dve i po decenije bavljenja hi-fi problematikom, a pre svega zvučnicima
podstaklo je Mirka Lazića da kreira novi tip panel zvučnih kutija tipa
"Perun" (tri modela ) i "Perun III mk2". Modeli se međusobno razlikuju u
snazi, ali i po gabaritu. San
svakog ljubitelja dobrog zvuka su visokokvalitetne zvučne kutije koje
osim kvaliteta reprodukovanog materijala zadovoljavaju i estetske
kriterijume. U savremnim uslovima života jedan od zahteva je da one
budu i ekonomične tj. da zauzimaju što manje prostora. Modeli "ML
Acoustic-a" zadovoljavaju sve pobrojane kriterijume.
"ML
Acoustic" zvučne kutije na prvi pogled podsećaju na tip kutija marke
"Bertagni", ali su umnogome zvučno i konstrukcijski poboljšani. Uz to
gospodin Mirko Lazić daje doživotnu garanciju za svoje proizvode.
Domaća
audiofilska javnost imala je prilike da se izbliza upozna sa panel
zvučnicima "ML Acoustic" na osmoj i devetoj Audioberzi - održanim u
Beogradu tokom 2009. godine,a od 27.08.2010. moze da se pogleda i čuje u YUGOVINYL-u prodavnici gramofonskih ploča. Na jednoj od njih (osmoj) upriličena je
promocija na kojoj su ljubitelji dobrog zvuka mogli su da se uvere u
zvučne i estetske kvalitete modela (fotografije sa promocije možete
videti ovde).
Među značajnijim karakteristikama panel zvučnih kutija "Perun" i "Perun
III mk2" izdvajaju se i velika osetljivost što dovodi do toga da daju
izuzetan zvuk kod lampaških pojačala kao i uopšte hi-fi pojačala malih
izlaznih snaga (počevši od 3W po kanalu) kao i izuzetna reprodukcija bas
tonova. Ovo poslednje je značajno s obzirom na činjenicu da je dubina
zvučne kutije svega 70mm, a poznato je da odlična reprodukcija bas
tonova nije česta pojava kod panel varijanti zvučnih kutija.
Nik Hornbi, jedan veoma zabavan pisac, u svom romanu „High Fidelity“
koji je doživeo i ekranizaciju, kaže da je slušanje ploča ono kad imate
„pune ruke muzike“. Roman govori o romantičnom brodolomu jednog vlasnika
prodavnice ploča i sama priča ne bi bila nimalo zanimljiva (meni makar
ne), da se kroz nju ne provlače delovi koji govore o uživanju slušanja
vinila, načinu na koji se vinil čuva i koliko emotivno i sentimentalno
značenje ima. Ne nameravam da govorim o pomenutom romanu, već o tom
fantastičnom parčetu plastike. Istom onom, koje kod mnogih odavno već
zauzima prostor u podrumu između kace sa kupusom i tegli sa ajvarom, a
klinci, kojima slučajno padne šaka, čude se neobično velikom cd-u.
Pune ruke muzike
Slušanje ploča je ritual. Od momenta kada prebirate po njima, veoma
pažljivo ih izvlačite iz „košuljice“ kojom su zaštićene, pritom pazeći
da slučajno ne dodirnete prstima ciklične brazde u kojima je muzika.
Dakle, dozvoljeno vam je da dodirnete samo okruglu nalepnicu u sredini
(kažiprstom i srednjim prstom) a da ivicu ploče naslonite na palac. Onda
treba da veoma vešto premestite ploču između dlanova da bi mogli da je
spustite na gramofon. U slučaju da ploča dugo nije slušana, primetićete
da se na njoj nakupilo nešto fine prašine. Onda ćete, u svečanoj
tišini punoj pijeteta, nežno da pređete mekom pamučnom krpom (koja ne
ostavlja trag i koja služi samo za te svrhe) po vinilu. Ali pazite!
Smete da uklanjate prašinu pažljivo prateći put koji igla prelazi po
ploči, bez pritiskanja, ukrug, u smeru u kojem se ploča okreće. U
slučaju da imate antistatik četku, možete da pokrenete mehanizam
gramofona i obavite čišćenje lakim prislanjanjam vrha četke na vinil.
Kad ste zadovoljni obavljenom higijenom, na red dolazi spuštanje igle na
njenu površinu, što je takođe delikatan zadatak. Donekle je lakše ako
je igla povezana sa mehanizmom koji služi da se polako spusti i ne
ošteti ploču, ali i tu treba zadržati disanje i imati sigurnu ruku.
Naravno, postoje gramofoni koji nisu napravljeni sa „ručicom“, pa je
pravom ljubitelju, operacija stavljanja igle podjednako složena kao i
hirurška intervencija na oku. Zahteva jaku koncentraciju.
Još nisam svestan zadovoljstva koje može da zameni pucketanje i šum koji
se čuje pre nego što ploča zasvira. Kod nekih starijih i potrošenijih
vinila pucketanje se ne završava ni kada muzika krene, neprestano je tu,
nekad iritirajuće glasno, a ponekad samo ukrasi tiše delove pesme. Meni
je taj zvuk uvek bio prijatan, kao da slušate pucketanje vatre. Osetite
se sigurnim, a napolju veje.
Ploču slušate od početka do kraja, mada ne morate. Na njoj postoje
označeni delovi, pesme su odvojene jedna od druge sa par tamnijih
linija. Ne dešava se retko da je ploča više potrošena na slušanijim
pesmama, mada je takva ploča retko u vlasništvu pravog ljubitelja.
Sada, kada je muzika krenula, naći ćete najudobnije mesto u sobi i
baviti se, naravno, studiranjem omota ploče. Omot upotpunjuje sliku. On
često daje informaciju o tonu, boji emocija koje muzika isporučuje.
Najuspeliji omoti ploča su rezultat velike ljubavi i prava umetnička
dela, čak i površni poznavaoci pop kulture znaju za, recimo „Banana
cover“, sliku Andy Warhall-a za prvi album grupe Velvet Underground, ili
omot za album grupe The Beatles, „Sg. Pepper Lonely Heart's Club Band“
(ploča na kojoj su se po prvi put u britanskoj pop industriji pojavili
tekstovi pesama). U jednom od narednih javljanja, baviću se isključivo
najuspelijim omotima ploča, koje subjektivno smatram vrhunskim
postignućima.
Oni koji su sa pločama odrasli, i danas umeju da vam izdeklamuju, bez
greške, raspored pesama sa obe strane ploče (da, ploča ima dve strane
koje sviraju, a ne kao onaj siromah cd), kao i neke druge detalje, kao
što su: godina izdanja, ime producenta, imena članova grupe, imena
studijskih muzičara i tako redom. To da se svi tekstovi pesama znaju kao
recitacije, podrazumeva se. Poznavanje svih detalja sa omota vas ne
sprečava da skoro svaki put kada ploču zavrtite ne obnovite gradivo i
prevrnete nekoliko puta omot u rukama pre nego što ga odložite. Sada
imate jedan savršeni audio-vizuelni doživljaj, koji je najlepše podeliti
sa nekim. U srećnije vreme za vinil, česta je „udica“ za zbližavanje sa
simpatičnom osobom bio poziv „na slušanje ploča“ („biće nas šestoro,
ti, ja i Bitlsi“).
Slušanje jedne ploče je uvek različito iskustvo. Ona se troši, svaki put
igla joj nanosi nove ožiljke, ton bledi, a sledećeg puta ga možda neće
biti. Zato se ploče slušaju pažljivo, jer zvuk polako isčezava sa nje i
neće se vratiti. Na neki način, to je metafora i za život sam.
Tragajući za razmišljanjima i ocenama koje su ljubitelji dobrog zvuka
ostavljali svuda po virtuelnom svetu, postajete svesni borbe koje se i
dalje vode između pristalica digitalnog zapisa (cd, dvd) i analognog
zapisa (vinil). Audio kaseta je nekako ispala iz ove diskusije, mada
bolje trake ne daju zvuk manje kvalitetan od mp3 kompresije. Meni se
lično najviše dopalo poređenje koje je napravio jedan ljubitelj vinila,
koji je napisao (parafraziraću): Cd je kao kada ulazite u sobu, koja je
jako osvetljena neonskim svetlima, tako da nijedan kutak nije ostao u
mraku. Vinil je kada ulazite u istu tu sobu, ali ovog puta u njoj
diskretno gori samo jedna lampa. Dakle, vaše auditivno uživanje zavisi
od toga kakva vam atmosfera i ambijent odgovaraju više.
Da sve ne bi bilo samo literarno naklapanje, mislim da je red da se,
makar uzgred, pozabavimo nekim tehničkim detaljima u vezi sa vinilom i
cd-om.
Vinil vs. CD
Ljudi koji se profesionalno bave puštanjem ploča, Dj-evi, kažu da je u
smislu kvaliteta koji isporučuju ova dva nosača zvuka, njima svejedno. U
skorije vreme, Pioneer je izbacio na tržište cd plejer na kojem može da
se „skrečuje“ (manipulacija prstima po površini ploče, zaustavljanjem i
vraćanjem, da bi se dobio ritmički efekat), ali veći deo ipak ostaje
veran vinilu, tvrdeći da ništa ne može da zameni osećaj koji imaju kada
„skrečuju“ na ploči, kada pod prstima osećaju brazde na njoj.
Treba se najzad uhvatiti u koštac i sa mitom u vezi sa opsegom
frekvencija koje emituju ploča i cd i koji favorizuje čas jedan, čas
drugi format. Ako posmatramo stvari isključivo matematički, CD odnosi
pobedu. Evo i zašto: raspon sluha kod čoveka je 25hz- 25khz, što se
naravno, sa godinama menja. U zrelom dobu sluh ne prelazi gornju
granicu od 18- 20 khz u proseku. Granica do koje stiže CD je 22khz, dok
je kod ploče nešto niža, 20 khz. U praksi zvuk retko kad prelazi 20khz,
tako da je ova prednost CD-a sasvim uslovna. Kad i ne bi bilo tako, da
li to znači da veći opseg utiče na način na koji doživljavamo muziku,
uzevši u obzir da su sa digitalnog formata odstranjeni šum i distorzija,
koja je upravo činila da muziku doživljavamo „toplijom“, kao što kažu
ljubitelji vinila? Najbolji odgovor u vezi sa ovom nedoumicom dobio sam
od jednog pasioniranog kolekcionara i prijatelja, koji kaže da je
muziku, koja je stvarana u vreme kada je vinil bio jedini nosač zvuka,
bolje slušati na vinilu nego na disku, dok je uglavnom drugačije sa
muzikom koja se pojavila kad i CD, i snimana je uzimajući u obzir
prednosti ( ali i nedostatke) ovog formata.
Kada se pojavio, CD je delovao praktičniji za upotrebu i s'obzirom
na veličinu, lakši za čuvanje i održavanje. Ali, da li je to stvarno
validan argument? Prostor koji kod kolekcionara zauzimaju ploče biće
neznatno oslobođen prelaskom na CD, a ta praznina biće uskoro popunjena
novim diskovima. Disk nije otporan ni na oštećivanje i nije preporučeno
dodirivati ga prstima na strani gde je digitalni zapis. Da podsetimo,
to je samo jedna strana, što nas uvodi u sledeće poglavlje.
Ono što je umetniku, pored brižljivo odabranog omota za ploču, daje
jači kreativni zamah, je činjenica da koncepcijski različito može da
osmisli dve strane ploče. Ako se radi o materijalu koji traje nešto
duže, onda govorimo o nekada jako popularnim „duplim“ albumima,
odnosno, četiri svirajuće strane.
Autor dakle ima slobodu da ukrasi unutrašnju stranu omota, koji sada
postaje duplo veći, sa obzirom na to da ima dva otvora za vinil. Na tako
lepom i velikom prostoru može da ostavi poster čitave grupe, tekstove
pesama u veličini koja neće zahtevati lupu za čitanje, razne grafike,
stripove i priče koje će zabaviti slušaoca. Što se tiče samih pesama,
nekada su, recimo, energičnije i živahnije pesme na strani A, dok su
intimnije, akustične i tiše pesme na strani B; ili, pesme sa vokalima na
jednoj, a instrumentali na drugoj strani. Odaberite raspoloženje. Dupli
koncerti album koji smatram remek-delom rok muzike „Four way street“ od
Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young-a je, na primer, osmišljen tako da sa
jedne ploče slušate veoma nadahnute električne pasaže ove četvorice
genijalaca, dok vam na drugoj ploči sviraju uglavnom akustični
instrumenti koji prate neponovljivo harmonijsko pevanje.
Tehnologija napreduje, pojavljuju se i novi digitalni nosači zvuka, kao
što je na primer HDCD, za koji poznavaoci tvrde da ne oduzima ništa od
topline zvuku sa starijih izdanja, ne kasapi tako bespoštedno onaj lepi
šum i prostor koji se oseća kada slušate vinil. Tu već zalazimo na
teritoriju emotivne vrednosti koju nosi jedan u odnosu na drugi format.
Siguran sam da su već prilično odrasle generacije koje ne
pamte ploče, tako da ne bežim od toga da stari CD za njih ima istu
sentimentalnu težinu, kao i ploča nekome malo starijem. Što se mene
tiče, postoje čak i audio kasete za koje sam jako vezan. Posebno one
koje su nasnimljene i za koje sam lično smišljao omote i nalepnice.
Vinil ponovo doživljava ekspanziju, prodaja se prema podacima
magazina „Rolling Stone“ povećala za 14% u odnosu na prethodnu godinu,
dok je prodaja „revolucionarnog“ CD-a koji je pretio da potpuno zameni
vinil drastično pala. U toku 2010. je prodato 2,8 miliona ploča, što je
prema agenciji „Nielsen Soundscan“ najbolji rezultat od 1991, od kada
oni prate prodaju vinila. Evo i spiska najprodavanijih ploča u 2010.
godini:
1. The Beatles - Abbey Road
2. Arcade Fire - The Suburbs
3. The Black Keys - Brothers
4. Vampire Weekend - Contra
6. The National - High Violet
7. Beach House - Teen Dream
8. The Jimi Hendrix Experience - Valleys of Neptune
9. Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon
10. The XX – XX
Yugovinyl is specialized in selling rare vinyl records (LP, SINGLES), from ex Yugoslavia. Also we offer a large amount of original and licence pressings 
