High Fidelity: A Mix-Tape of Life, Love and Vinyl

“What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery, and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?”

I’m twenty years old. I’ve just read the opening lines of Nick Hornsby’s novel High Fidelity. I’m hooked. I knew then and there that this was something that would require repeat readings for the rest of my life. I suppose it was only fitting, as this is the same story of my relationship with music and vinyl in general. High Fidelity examines the daily struggles of “professional appreciator of music” Rob and his group of underachieving friends, Barry and Dick, as they spend their days working at Rob’s fledgling store, Championship Vinyl.

After I finished the book, I, of course sought out the on-screen rendition of High Fidelity. The story was more or less faithful to the source material, which I was alright with given how much I loved the novel in the first place. When I recently became aware that Hulu would be re-booting High Fidelity as a series, I became excited. Yet, I wondered if they too would remain faithful to the novel, or if they would not only re-boot this modern-day classic but remix it all together?

As a life-long lover of both music and vinyl, High Fidelity in all its forms appeals to me. That aside, what has continued to draw me back in is its intertwining of the human condition with music. The story examines Rob’s relationship with music on vinyl, and the means by which it has defined his life, and relationships. For those of us prone to introspection, it’s a fascinating examination of the human condition. If you’re a collector of vinyl, the story has a sort of comforting feeling and will satiate your need to talk vinyl. Here’s a quote that demonstrates what I mean:

“Is it wrong, wanting to be at home with your record collection? It’s not like collecting records is like collecting stamps, or beermats, or antique thimbles. There’s a whole world in here, a nicer, dirtier, more violent, more peaceful, more colorful, sleazier, more dangerous, more loving world than the world I live in; there is history, and geography, and poetry, and countless other things I should have studied at school, including music.”

See what I mean? It’s comforting, isn’t it?

So, as I began watching this re-booted version of High Fidelity. It was immediately clear that this wasn’t a standard re-telling. Rob was now Robyn, that-is-to say, Rob was now a woman. The next change was that Rob was now living in Brooklyn, NY. I found a connection with the show, as I watched Rob and her cohorts walk the streets of NYC, a city I’ve spent my life visiting and where my ex-wife grew up. I realize that not all viewers of the show are from NY, so they may not have this same connection, but I found it endearing.

For Hulu’s rendition of High Fidelity, the writers have gone to great lengths to ensure that Rob’s friend group is much more diverse. The result is a cast of characters that have more depth and demand the viewer’s attention in a way that past incarnations of this story never have before. The original written rendition of High Fidelity was released in 1995, and the subsequent film hit theaters in 2000. Fast forward to 2020, and we live in a very different world, where people of all genders, races, and walks of life are experiencing music and life in completely different ways, with so many new and varying contexts. The writers of High Fidelity have done an incredible job of shedding light on the diverse hardships that all these groups go through on a day-to-day basis.

I appreciated that a young, gender-fluid, African American woman was chosen to portray the owner of Championship Vinyl. Furthermore, I felt it was a shrewd move to make her closest confidants a plus-size woman in Cherise, and a proud, openly gay man called Simon. For too long record collecting, and appreciation of vinyl, in general, has been portrayed as a boy’s club. Furthermore, the stereotype has always dictated that vinyl collectors are single, nerdy, grungy, weird men, who live on the fringes of society, only to come out to hoard more vinyl, and then drag it back to their dark lair. It was refreshing to see Hulu’s High Fidelity put these ill-conceived notions to bed, and that they took the time to re-educate the viewer that music lovers and collectors of vinyl come in all shapes, sizes, and genders.

This rendition of High Fidelity sends a message, and it’s simple: music should be for everyone. Still, there is a greater message: we as people and music lovers are not pigeon-holed by gender, body type, or sexual preference. Music on vinyl is still the proverbial bridge that brings us all together. Vinyl is an experience. As I watched High Fidelity, the idea that each record tells a story was never plainer. Watching these characters reminded me that life is the ultimate mix-tape. Lovers of the vinyl medium know all too well that listening to music on vinyl isn’t easy. It takes work, but it’s worth it. Likewise, life isn’t always easy, and in that regard, High Fidelity pulls no punches. Unlike other shows, High Fidelity doesn’t romanticize things. The writer’s choice to focus on the grittier side of life while casting it in a beautiful light is all too relatable.

What High Fidelity does best is that instead of regurgitating dried-out, overdone, feel-good nostalgia, it takes the long way around and examines how we got here. It engages with its viewers in regards to the sweaty underbelly of adult life. Hulu’s High Fidelity is the right show, at the right time, straddling the delicate balance between analog and digital, which is a commentary of where we all find ourselves, isn’t it?

In 2020, we often find ourselves stuck in a sort of gray area, all the while the world around us is exploding in technicolor with music and diversity. High Fidelity does a fantastic job of reminding us without judgment or pretension that we all have self-doubt from time to time that we all screw up sometimes. That we are all misfits in our own way, and that’s okay! High Fidelity has equipped itself with a certain vulnerability while expanding its universe and allowing a more diverse swath of characters to speak to us on issues that matter today, and of course, on music! Its message is simple: High Fidelity encourages us never to stop building that bridge, and that conversely, that building that bridge isn’t enough…we must never stop crossing it as well.

“Have you got any soul?” a woman asks the next afternoon. That depends, I feel like saying; some days yes, some days no. A few days ago I was right out; now I’ve got loads, too much, more than I can handle. I wish I could spread it a bit more evenly, I want to tell her, get a better balance, but I can’t seem to get it sorted. I can see she wouldn’t be interested in my internal stock control problems though, so I simply point to where I keep the soul I have, right by the exit, just next to the blues.”

Vulture.com lists these tracks as their favorite ten tracks from Hulu’s High Fidelity, Season One. Can’t argue with that!

  1. Lena Platonos, “And We Hear ‘I Love You’” (Episode 1)
  2. Darondo, “Didn’t I” (Episode 1) 
  3. Marvin Gaye, “Right On” (Episode 3) 
  4. Yvonne Fair, “Straighten Up” (Episode 5)
  5. David Bowie, “The Man Who Sold the World” (Episode 5)
  6. P.T.A.F., “Boss Ass Bitch” (Episode 6)
  7. Kaleta & Super Yamba Band, “Mr. Diva” (Episode 7)
  8. Mavis John, “Use My Body” (Episode 7)
  9. Silk Rhodes, “Pains” (Episodes 9 and 10) 
  10. Ted Lucas, “Baby Where You Are” (Episode 10)

https://open.spotify.com/embed/playlist/4KpCT0a06cn6fWqGsGBblc

Dig this article? Check out the full archives of Stories from the Stacks, by Andrew Daly, here: www.vinylwritermusic.com/stories-from-the-stacks-archives/

Published by Andrew Daly

Since he was a young child growing up on Long Island, NY, Andrew has always loved writing and collecting physical music. Present-day, Andrew is proud to share his love of music with the world through his writing, and the result is nothing short of beautiful: articles and interviews written by a music addict for fellow music addicts. Andrew lives on Long Island and works as a Horticultural Operations Manager by day and runs the Vinyl Writer Music website by night.

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: