New records, vintage finds, original pressings and crate-digging adventures. We explore the differences between new and second-hand vinyl, share a few Badlands stories, and explain why the best record collections...
Second-hand records aren’t just another way of buying music. They’re often what turns somebody from a casual listener into a collector. There’s a certain thrill in flicking through boxes of records without really knowing what you’re going to find. You might walk into a shop looking for a copy of Born To Run and leave with a forgotten soul compilation, a jazz album you’ve never heard of, and some obscure live Dylan record that catches your eye purely because the sleeve looks interesting.
That’s the magic of crate-digging. The best finds are often the records you weren’t looking for in the first place.
Streaming services have made almost every album ever recorded available at the touch of a button, but they can’t really recreate that feeling of discovery. A record shop can still surprise you. Sometimes a recommendation from another customer, a handwritten note in a rack, or simply a sleeve you’ve never noticed before ends up leading you towards an album that becomes a lifelong favourite.
For many collectors, the music is only half the attraction. The packaging, inserts and odd little extras that came with original releases can be just as exciting as the record itself.
Take Alice Cooper’s Billion Dollar Babies. Copies of the album aren’t especially hard to find, but finding an original UK pressing with the giant billion-dollar bill still tucked inside is a completely different challenge. Many disappeared years ago, either lost, damaged or simply separated from the record itself. The same goes for School’s Out, which originally came packaged with a pair of paper knickers hidden inside the sleeve. Most didn’t survive very long!
For years, collectors would keep an eye out for complete copies, hoping to stumble across one that still contained everything that came with it on release day. When one finally turns up intact, it feels less like buying a record and more like rescuing a small piece of rock and roll history.
That’s one of the things that makes second-hand vinyl endlessly fascinating. You’re not just finding music. You’re finding artefacts from the moment that music first entered the world.
One thing we’ve learned after decades of talking to record collectors is that everyone has a different route into the hobby.
Phil’s obsession started remarkably early. One of his earliest memories is buying Penny Lane / Strawberry Fields Forever when he was just four years old. By the age of five, his parents had bought him a second-hand Dansette-style record player because he was already completely hooked on records. He grew up during one of the most exciting periods in music history, was lucky enough to be a teenager when punk exploded, and started going to gigs in 1978. For people of that generation, records weren’t a hobby. They were simply part of everyday life.
Rob’s journey was almost the complete opposite. For years he actively avoided buying records because he suspected exactly what would happen if he started. Then lockdown arrived, a turntable appeared, and what began as a bit of curiosity quickly turned into a full-blown collection. One shelf became two. A handful of records became hundreds. The rabbit hole that he’d spent years avoiding eventually got him anyway.
Most collectors can probably relate to one of those stories.
If there’s one thing nearly every record collector shares, it’s regret.
Not regret about buying records, obviously. Quite the opposite. The regret usually comes from the records we sold, traded or threw away before we realised how much we’d miss them.
One story that still raises a smile involves a younger Mike and a copy of a Smiths album. At the time, he decided it was rubbish and launched it into the Thames. Somewhere beneath the mud and silt of London’s most famous river, there may still be a copy slowly turning into an archaeological artefact.
Perhaps one day, hundreds of years from now, future historians will uncover a fossilised Smiths LP and spend months debating its cultural significance.
Record collecting has a funny habit of changing your perspective. The album you couldn’t wait to get rid of at twenty can become the one you’d love to have back at fifty.
In the end, the question isn't really whether new vinyl is better than second-hand vinyl. It's about what brings you closer to the music and what you enjoy.
Sometimes that's a brand-new release you've been waiting months to hear. Sometimes it's an original pressing that's survived fifty years with all its inserts still tucked safely inside. Sometimes it's a record you buy on a whim because the sleeve catches your eye.
The best collections are rarely the most expensive ones. They're the shelves filled with memories. The album you bought after your first gig. The record that soundtracked a summer. The lucky find you still can't believe turned up in a bargain bin.
And then there's that smell. Anyone who loves second-hand records knows it instantly. Open an old sleeve and there's a mixture of cardboard, paper, dust and time that's impossible to recreate. For some people it brings back memories of browsing through their parents' collection. For others it's the smell of a grandparent's front room, an old radiogram in the corner, or afternoons spent discovering music for the first time.
Records have always been more than just a way of listening to music. They're little pieces of personal history. Whether you're buying new, hunting down originals, or simply trying to find room for one more LP on the shelf, enjoy the journey.
And if you're looking after your collection, take a look at our guide to looking after your vinyl records, or browse our cleaning and storage range to keep everything sounding its best for years to come.
