Every Record I Own - Day 261: Converge All We Love We Leave Behind
I was slow on the draw with No Heroes and Axe to Fall, but I wasn’t going to be late to All We Love We Leave Behind. Unfortunately, the pressing plant was running behind on account of the infamous Beatles vinyl reissue fiasco, and so even though this album came out in October of 2012, I didn’t actually see a copy of the 2xLP in record stores until early 2013.
I’ve got weird hang-ups with music formats. By 2012 I had stopped buying CDs because I just loaded them into iTunes and never touched ‘em again. But I also hated buying mp3s because it felt like buying air. I never got into file-sharing, and so I was never one of those people that desperately dug around the internet trying to find a leak of an album before it came out. I’d gone through too many 10th-generation dubbed cassettes back in the era of tapes and been bummed too many times on trying to wrangle the joy out of poor quality bootlegs for me to get stoked on the modern age of leaked watermarked lo-res mp3s. I was happy to have my first listen of an album be in a proper setting with a proper copy. I didn’t need to be the first to hear it; I just needed to hear things as they were meant to be heard by the creators.
So I waited patiently for the vinyl to show up at my local record shop, which in this case wound up being Generation Records in Greenwich Village. All of my stuff—including my turntable—was in storage from the move to NYC, so I had to use the download code to listen to the record. All of which means I should’ve just downloaded the album back in October. Again… weird hang-ups.
I listened to this record a lot during my first months in NYC. I found a gym on Christopher Street in the West Village that was well-equipped and sparsely attended. I would go five times a week to lift weights and listen to All We Love We Leave Behind and Lungfish’s Talking Songs For Walking. New York was still a little overwhelming at the time, but I loved my daily walk through the gayborhood to this big, empty gym. The anger and anguish in a solid hardcore record feels empowering, like a battle cry against the world, and that’s exactly what I needed after leaving so much behind in Seattle.