All photos courtesy of Vinyl Word taken by @clayschoolman
George LoSasso founded Vinyl Word, a social club that gathers once a week to listen front to back through an iconic album (and party). Though the event holds residency at the iconic Arlene’s Grocery, Vinyl Word was once a failed book club in San Francisco.
LoSasso is a lover of analog. So, when he wanted to start a group who read books about albums each week, he stuck posters from City to City with his personal number. But when San Francisco yielded an unenthused crowd, the only move was to go East. When he moved to New York, however, the momentum picked up. His effort began organically growing traction… beyond the spam calls flooding his phone.
“I don’t know if putting my cell number all over New York was a great idea, but it got me here,” he said in a laugh. Though he gets spam calls upwards of seven times a day, the Vinyl Word has become a staple.
The community-based endeavor to meet music enthusiasts turned from a music book club to a weekly album-listening event. More and more people began to show up, so LoSasso began a dance with his anti-analog devil. Reluctantly, LoSasso made an Instagram account for Vinyl Word. From there, Arlene’s Grocery took on the growing collective for each Tuesday night.
“I just want to give people a dedicated space to meet other people that like the same music as they do and appreciate it together,” LoSasso told me over coffee.
I came across Vinyl Word on Instagram, which is pretty ironic given how old-fashioned the concept is. Nonetheless, I was interested in how an album-listening event looked like a party. Shouldn’t we be concentrating on the artist’s intentions and picking away at metaphor?
“There is no silent listening analysis while a prudish group waits for their wine tannins to mellow. This event is not designed for the pretentious music listener. It’s targeted more to the singing-in-the-car types. ”
A key distinction with Vinyl Word is the tone of these weekly music appreciation events. Personally, I think the concepts of these events can quickly verge into pompous. I think about being at parties where the hipster in a scarf lectures me about the dynamics of a band. At Vinyl Word, the concept seems to be a beacon to the ‘I took a music theory class’ guy, because it centers around listening to music in analog via the original album concept. But Vinyl Word has no seating arrangements with decanters. There is no silent listening analysis while a prudish group waits for their wine tannins to mellow. This event is not designed for the pretentious music listener. It’s targeted more to the singing-in-the-car types.
Sitting at the bar for the Miseducation of Lauryn Hill album listen through, I had gotten the last seat before the wolves descended. On a Tuesday night, Arlene’s Grocery was crammed tight by 8 p.m. When LoSasso introduced the event over a microphone, he had to stand on a chair to be seen over the bar swarm.
To me, the curated playlists developed to complement the album before and after the headliner was the sweet spot. Personally, any bar that gets the chance to play “Watermelon Man” by Herbie Hancock in succession to “Hypnotize” by Biggie Smalls is doing brilliant work for the music community.
“Let’s get into some Lauryn Hill! Give it up for your DJs!” Yelled LoSasso.
And then, the record plays through. At the chorus, people hold their drinks over their heads and sing along. Through concept songs, groups swayed along during their own conversation. Purple lights flickered and complemented the videos of Ms. Lauryn Hill shown on the televisions in the back.
I had spoken with LoSasso earlier about picking the Miseducation of Lauryn Hill specifically because of the talking. Those who may be unfamiliar with the album, there are hefty portions reminiscent of 90s/2000s rap skits. People talking, Lauryn monologuing. It has a specific purpose, but it is not the background to a party. LoSasso’s answers to my hesitancy were simple: people party to the songs they know, and socialize through the noise they don’t. And so they did.
“It’s always been really community based,” LoSasso had told me. Through this, he has hosted a meet-cute space for roommates, friends and couples. And, as Vinyl Word continues to spread its limbs throughout the city, the only worry for LoSasso is reaching capacity.
video by Obadiah Casperson
Swing by Arlene's Grocery each Tuesday or check Vinyl Word’s instagram for events.