In an era dominated by MP3 players and downloaded music, two music lovers are confident other fans are hungry for the real thing: vinyl, and lots of it. Dal Basi, a longtime Tower Records music buyer, and his partner, Nich Lujan, are banking on the importance of being able to touch your music collection. They are opening an independent vinyl specialty store, Phono Select Records, in Midtown in early September. "Digital music is so soulless," said Basi, 42. "Fast food is kind of like an MP3. You're getting what you need for the moment, but it's not something special." Basi and Lujan both use digital audio players. But the most devoted music fans are into the entire "organic" experience:

Take a million-dollar inventory of LPs, CDs and DVDs, arrange them on several 80-foot-long tables and place them into a 10,000 square foot room for three days. This is the recipe for Capital Public Radio's (CPR) annual Used Record and CD Sale. It will commence on Friday night with a "Preview Party" from 6 - 9 p.m. For a $20 cover charge, people can get a jump start on the musical feast while enjoying live music, food and wine. On Saturday and Sunday from 10 a.m. - 5 p.m., the public can dig in for free and search through the leftovers. It all takes place in suite 172 of the "Howe 'bout Arden" shopping center at 2100 Arden Way. All-in-all there will be approximately 45,000 vinyl records

Those who know me know that one way or another I love to share music. As such, for Christmas and other occasions I try to give the gift of music, these days typically in the form of a CD. Thus the other day I went in search of an album by the famous Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, (he’s the big guy who does the great version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow"). Alas, my favorite local "record" store "Off the Record" here in Auburn, is no longer, having recently succumbed to the economic pressures independent retailers face these days. Not to fear, the new Best Buy must have a CD of this popular artist, but no, I glanced over to the local K-Mart, possibly they would have it, nope. What to do? My last h

As a child born in the eighties, I didn’t have time for much of a love affair with the vinyl record. A few years laid out on our brown shag carpet listening to the soft whir and tick of the record needle – gone in a flash with the appearance of the compact disc player. With its built-in lasers and shiny discs that occupied less space on cramped apartment shelves, the new device easily charmed our family. The records were quickly scuttled away in pine boxes to the dank recesses of our storage space. There was no looking back. Now almost three decades later, armed with an iPod, a BlackBerry and a lovely home network of Macintosh computers, I find myself happily rediscovering vinyl. And I’m