The old guy who ran the shop with the most consistently fabulous sounding gear I ever came across (by far, not even close) made a big show when he pulled out a copy of Santana Abraxas of getting his fingers all over it. At one point he was holding it with thumb and fingers of one hand right on the vinyl like its a Frisbee and the fingers of his other hand across it like some guy checking out the paint on a car.
The method in his madness is getting across to people that vinyl isn't nearly the Faberge Egg its made out to be. I've got records gonna sound like crap no matter if they are cleaned by physicists at Lawrence Livermore, others that sound fabulous despite being played scores of times over the decades. Likewise I've got records been in and out of paper sleeves dozens of times and quiet, and records in poly sleeves seldom played yet noisy.
Your anxiety may vary, as they say. Mine is pleasantly placid.
The method in his madness is getting across to people that vinyl isn't nearly the Faberge Egg its made out to be. I've got records gonna sound like crap no matter if they are cleaned by physicists at Lawrence Livermore, others that sound fabulous despite being played scores of times over the decades. Likewise I've got records been in and out of paper sleeves dozens of times and quiet, and records in poly sleeves seldom played yet noisy.
Your anxiety may vary, as they say. Mine is pleasantly placid.