Lost To The Vinyl Tar-Pits

Darko wonders if there aren't some musical performances I once enjoyed on vinyl, then for some reason or circumstance lost. Do I now hesitate to buy these performances in digital (CD, mp3) format? If so, why?

I don't hesitate enough, actually. There is ample evidence on my hard drive and in my back closet that the nostalgic impulse should be vigorously questioned before it is indulged. My recent purchase of the DVD boxed set of Star Trek: The Animated Series could definitely have stood a little more scrutiny. I figured $20 was an invitation for me to explore what could have been a pleasant childhood memory, if only our town had cable. What wound up happening, unfortunately, was a case of the bloom dropping off the rose. Sketchy story-lines, tediously bad animation ... oy vey. I don't want to think about how schnackered a person would have to be to enjoy such pallid entertainment. I had more fun with this series when I was vaguely considering its potential. The box should have remained closed.

Similarly, music. There are a few artists I've followed with fanatic, completist zeal who have rewarded me quite generously for my efforts. And there are a legion more whose most resonant insight is, "Deep down I'm really very shallow."

Summing up, the moral of the story is I could stand to develop a little more self-control and discretion when it comes to purchasing music. Fortunately for this thread, there are a few nostalgic grails that remain just beyond my reach: vinyl recordings that are sinking in the tar-pits as the Cambrian tide of technological evolution surges forward.* I call this exercise "The Burgess Shale Blues." Here, then, are three albums that, for one reason or another, have yet to be digitally rescued from total obscurity.

Number one
Number two
Number three

*Yes, I know my natural history. Please be kind and refrain from examining that metaphor too closely.