The Sugarplastic : 7×7x7

Maybe it was the picture of the whale eating the squid on the cover that won my heart. I’m usually swallowed whole by anything with an octopus or a squid or any manner of quirky cephalopodia on it, from lamps to Legos, but I found myself intrigued by The Sugarplastic’s set of ‘7×7x7‘ vinyl releases. And by ‘intrigued’, I usually mean ‘inexorably compelled to collect’.

Over the past few years, a charming little indie band called The Sugarplastic, in association with Tallboy Records, embarked upon an epic project – to release seven vinyl 45s on 7 different colors of vinyl. They’d be released every 3 months, they’d be limited to 300 pieces each, and each would contain two songs. One could subscribe to these releases and have them automatically sent to you as they were published, and any leftovers would be sold on their website. It was the hip, indie equivalent of getting Martha Stewart Living dropped in your mailbox, except you wouldn’t have to feel bad about being in league with the devil OR learn how to add sprigs of fresh mint to make perfect summer tortes.

[And for the uninitiated or anyone born after 1990, a '45' is a record - a plastic disc measuring 7 inches in diameter, covered with grooves which play sounds when you drop a specialized needle onto them. Old people and hipsters use these to listen to their favorite songs. They're really quite exciting, but delicate and usually not too portable.]

So, why would a band back such an obviously Luddite move to ignore the fact that we’re in a technological age in which we now store our music collections on microscopic electronic impulses and magnetic switches and pixie dust? I’d like to venture that the motivation behind the project was to share the pure bliss of dropping a turntable needle onto a new record and demonstrate an appreciation for an era when music was music. There’s nothing too romantic about hitting ‘play’ in iTunes after connecting to CDDB and digitally identifying your CD with an electronic hum.

Colored vinyl is also a really great aesthetic gimmick, just like shaped records, paper-thin 45s and picturediscs have been. The 7×7x7 albums range from marbled orange to traditional black to clear. Something about playing your music off of something that’s entirely translucent red is magical.

So while all 14 songs on these 45s were available exclusively to your personal record player, The Sugarplastic eventually conceded (or perhaps planned all along) to release a CD compilation of 7×7x7, though with minimal artwork and documentation, in a simple cardboard sleeve. After all, why completely exclude fans who didn’t have the foresight (or hindsight) to keep a turntable in operating condition? The vinyl releases were colorful and exciting and go beyond the music itself into media experimentation, and the CD, well, is a CD.

As a charming added bonus to all fans who collected all 7 records, Tallboy Records also provided a free copy of the 7×7x7 CD, as well as stickers and pins. Often, ordering music from these small, independent labels will earn you free CDs and bonus items. With a large order from Magic Marker Records, I was once sent extra CDs to give to friends, as well as a note handwritten on a page of an old children’s book. These smaller labels are far more likely to experiment in unique musical sounds and media than the larger, profit-centric labels, and because of this, they produce a lot of neat collectible items. Additionally, once again, you can feel good about supporting the individual artists instead of the devil.

It’s easy to forget about the music when the presentation of the music is as exquisite as 7×7x7, but I can attest to the fact that the music is also filled with substantial helpings of ‘awesome’ and ‘rockin’.