In praise of 7" vinyl

Rediscovering my first love...

My latest thrill is playing numerous 7” vinyl only sets. It’s a lo-tech, no-showbiz way of working. And most of the records are from charity shops.

The status of DJs has evolved so much in the forty plus years I’ve been DJing. Back when I started very few DJs were producers too; essentially you were playing other people’s music. It was all vinyl. And the equipment consisted of twins decks (perhaps vari-speed, perhaps not), and a mixer, and a coin sellotaped on the head shells to stop records jumping.

The history of DJing is intriguing (and goes back at least eighty years); there have always multiple types of venues to play in, from bespoke underground bars to bouncing full-on dance halls; the ways in what and how audiences have consumed dance music are many; and the technology has gone all Star Trek. But despite all this, as far as I can see, the basic role of a DJ never really changes, even though the technology does – for me, the core of it all is the sharing some of my favourite records with a room full of people gathered together to be uplifted, and entertained.

If you’re over forty years old, the chances are that the first time you purchased music you bought a 7” single. In 1964 an estimated 57m singles were sold in the UK; all 7” of course, as no other format was available. 1979 was probably one of my most expensive years for buying singles, some of them 12” records; it’s estimated nearly 80m singles were sold that year.

I consider myself a child of the 70s. The first music I owned was a single given to me by my parents; ‘Back Home’ by the England World Cup squad in Mexico in 1970 (the single ended up at #1, a feat no subsequent England World Cup squad managed until the New Order collaboration – ‘World in Motion’ – in 1990).

In 1972 I added to my record collection with a purchase of ‘Telegram Sam’ by T-Rex. This was with my own money. The concept of having money of my own to spend was very exciting. I’d just turned ten when that record was released; I assume I used some birthday money to buy it. The combination of pocket money and birthday money at that point didn’t amount to very much, but the thing with 7” singles was that they were cheap.

12” singles had become a sizeable part of the commercial market by the end of 1977. The advantage of the 12” format is the broader dynamic range and better sound quality gleaned from the grooves. Many of my early 12” singles were on reggae labels like Greensleeves, but the most played was Television’s ‘Marquee Moon’ which was epic on 12”.

When I started DJing, 12” mixes were central to a DJ’s work, taking advantage of the extended mixes made for the dancefloor. Although there were skilled DJ’s who could mix, cut, and scratch using 7” singles, in contrast to the 7’s, the 12” format improved handling and manipulation, and sounded so much better on bigger systems.

Despite this, looking back there are landmark tunes I recall playing off 7”. It’s a slightly odd thing looking back but at the Haçienda, I first played A Guy Called Gerald’s ‘Voodoo Ray’ on 7”; I think sent to me by Rham Records.

The first record I ever put on DJ turntables was a 7” of ‘Being Boiled’ by the Human League. At my first weekly residency - at the Venue on Whitworth St in 1985 - 7” singles always in my box of tunes included ‘I, Bloodbrother Be’ by the Shock Headed Peters. The latter, never close to being a commercial hit, became much-loved by the regulars.

Regular readers will recall that in 2016 I sold all my albums and 12” singles to Seth Troxler. I was left with a small box of 7” singles which had survived multiple house moves. I have no regrets about the sale to Seth, I was happy to say goodbye to the thirty-five boxes of vinyl. I’ve felt lighter, the baggage of the past lifted.

One thing I couldn’t shake was my habit of hunting for vinyl. I never wanted to rebuild the collection I sold, so in the last two years I’ve focussed this hunt on looking for 7” singles to add to my existing box. My challenge was that I would try to pay no more than £2, tops. My hunting grounds have been charity shops mostly, where I’ve flicked past dozens of terrible records in search of just one or two that float my boat. The other week I was in Hebden Bridge, and got ‘Enola Gay’, Bob Dylan’s ‘Positively 4^th Street’, and ‘Double Barrel’ by Dave & Ansel Collins for £2 each.

Records I’ve bought over the last forty years have invariably been for use filling dancefloors; they’ve been tools of the trade. At the beginning of my recent hunts for 7” vinyl I decided that once I’d amassed two or three hours worth of quality tunes, I’d play some gigs using them. Put them to work.

I very much acknowledge and appreciate that there are loads of DJs who are vinyl only, including many of my compadres in fact; the likes of Fritz Great Lakes, Maxine Bellini, Andrea Trout, Darren Laws, Pasta Paul, and Martin the Mod. Jason Boardman is mostly vinyl (he finds playing digital sets “dull and less tactile”). There are multiple 7” only DJ’s on the Northern Soul scene. So I’m not claiming to be a pioneer in that regard, I’m just an adventurer who likes variety in my life, and the notion right now of playing the 7” format very much appeals.

A downside to sticking to 7” singles is that most of them - and certainly most found in charity shops and markets - date from decades back. One of the reason I usually play digital tracks is that I like including brand new stuff in my sets – much of it not on any kind of vinyl, let alone 7”. But there are a few 21^st Century gems I have and which will always get a spin in my 7” sets including Electric Six ‘Danger! High Voltage’ and Fujiya & Miyagi’s ‘Knickerbocker’.

I’m sceptical of the benefits to humankind provided by many technological advances; fridges with wifi, dubious AI-generated slop turning the internet into bad art and falsehoods, apps that track us and badger us to buy stuff, ridiculously complicated ways of paying for parking, social media platforms creating and exacerbating division. DJing 7” singles seems a simpler, more progressive way of carrying-on than being stuck in the flim flam of the high tech commercial world. Plus I’ve probably donated several hundred pounds to various charity shops to fill the box with tunes.

I remember at the turn of the millennium, technological advances were dominating the discourse, including the chance to create blogs, and work with collaborators worldwide, all of which was all great and exciting. But I also remember a resurgence in handmade, lo-fi, bespoke creativity; hand-drawn posters, homemade fonts, and zine-making. Zines continue to be a big thing globally - off the net, off the radar, often quirky; a place for oppositional voices on the edge of culture. I’ve just read a couple of great zines called ‘How I Learned to Hate James Dyson’, and ‘How I Learned to Hate James Dyson Even More’.

In that era at the turn of the millenium as the world rushed towards digital files, there were also record labels like the visionary Twisted Nerve, who released dozens of 7” singles by the likes of Badly Drawn Boy and Alfie. Those who make these products are aware of the tiny sales potential of 7” singles in the modern world, but also enlightened in their view that cultural value can be measured in so many ways, and high units shifted and dollars earned are not the most important.

So, currently, I’m putting them to work as I intended to. Over the next five weeks I’m doing 7” vinyl only sets at a couple of special events. I’m DJing in amongst countless bands at the Peer Hat in Manchester, at an event to celebrate the life of my pal Stephen Doyle. On Sunday May 25^th I’m providing some entertainment at the Merch Market; the brainchild of Tim Burgess, it’s an all-dayer in Manchester where bands can sell their merch and keep 100% of the income. I'll be DJing my 7” set & doing some interviews. The decks will be set up at the Ritz on Whitworth Street.

In addition, I’m playing a small number of independently-run records stores and venues (free entry); including Forty Five Records in Lancaster, Holding Patterns in Leeds, and Wax & Beans in Bury (info here https://www.davehaslam.com/news/).

In the 7” sets I’ve done up to now, what I have found - which I’d forgotten - is just how short three minutes is. The opportunities to throw on tracks with the running time of 12” extended mixes and take a breath or engage in conversation have gone. If you come hear my 7” sets, just be aware of this; if I don’t chatter to you, don’t consider me any more moody than usual - blame the brevity of the records for keeping me occupied. ‘The Letter’ by the Box Tops doesn’t even make it to the two minute mark. But what a song!