Albums, anyone?

In my business--playing music on the radio--we're always talking about new music releases by one artist or another. In this day and age, they tell me, most people are buying tracks off the Internet (iTunes and the like) and downloading them. However, artists still make albums for those folks who want more than just a random track, or for people who want to purchase physical CDs.

I'm often getting into trouble when I talk about new albums (using that term) with certain listeners who enjoy pointing out mistakes those of us who speak publicly make. They say (and you can hear the large grin and the "Ah ha! I caught you!" coming right through their emails) "You meant to say 'CD,' didn't you?"

Well, I certainly make my share of mistakes--and I don't mind criticism, especially the constructive type--but my hackles get up on this point. Because no, I didn't "mean" to say "CD." "Album" is what I said, and I meant it.

Let me tell you where I'm coming from. The term "album," used in this sense, means "a collection of songs." That collection of songs can exist as a group of files on your computer, tracks on a CD, or the songs on an LP record (which is the thing most of these people think of when they hear the word "album").

Albums first came into being in the early days of recorded music, long before computers, CDs, or even LPs were thought of. In those days, music was distributed on 78 RPM records, with (usually) one song on each side. Some ingenious person (who knows who it was) came up with the idea of packing several 78s by the same artist in hard-backed book full of record sleeves which resembled a photo album. The record album was born.

Before long--and I think this really gained steam in the 1940s--record companies were using albums to package together songs that, well, went together--collections of songs on related themes, for instance. The next natural step in this progression was for artists to begin recording songs for albums deliberately. Instead of having their labels choose records to package into albums, some artists began recording songs that were intended to be sold in the same package. The 78 album pictured on the left is an early example of a country concept album.

In the late 1940s, recording technology was undergoing rapid change. RCA introduced the 45 RPM record, which sounded better, stored easier, and was less likely to break than the brittle 78. In a short time, it replaced the 78 as the perfect format for delivering single records to the public. 45s were also packaged into albums, just like their faster-spinning older siblings had been.

Meanwhile, Columbia Records, RCA's arch competitor, introduced the 33 1/3 RPM Long-Playing record (the "LP"), first as a way of more efficiently marketing classical music with its longer musical selections, and later as a medium for the collections which had been packaged up to that time as albums.

78 and 45 albums continued to be produced for some time, but it wasn't long before the LP replaced them all as the medium of choice for albums because it, too, sounded better (even better than the 45, although RCA wouldn't say so), was virtually unbreakable, and was a much cheaper and more efficient way for the public to get several songs at once. Over the following 35 years, the terms "LP" and "album" became synonymous in the eyes of the public.

When recording technology changes went into overdrive in the 1980s with the introduction of digital audio and the compact disc (CD), music that had previously been delivered on LP, naturally, moved to the new format. Many people, following years of habit, continued to refer to their LPs as "albums" as a way of distinguishing them from their CDs. But in reality, an LP is no more exclusively an "album" than a CD is. Heck, if you want to be really picky on this point, it's been nearly 60 years since any record "album" was made, because that's about when they quit packaging single records in album-like books. All those years of LP albums, though, give us strong precedent for applying that term to today's technology.

So the next time you pick up a favorite CD, go ahead--call it an album. You have my permission. More importantly, you'd be correct.