At Quality Record Pressings in Salina, Kan., the influx of orders for vinyl records is so great how the staff has become turning away requests since September. This resurgence in pvc pellet popularity blindsided Gary Salstrom, the company’s general manger. The corporation is just 5 years old, but Salstrom continues to be making records to get a living since 1979.
“I can’t explain to you how surprised I am,” he says.
Listeners aren’t just demanding more records; they wish to pay attention to more genres on vinyl. Because so many casual music consumers moved onto cassette tapes, compact discs, and after that digital downloads over the past several decades, a little contingent of listeners passionate about audio quality supported a modest niche for certain musical styles on vinyl, notably classic jazz and orchestral recordings.
Now, seemingly anything else from the musical world gets pressed too. The Recording Industry Association of America reported that vinyl record sales in 2015 exceeded $400 million within the United states That figure is vinyl’s highest since 1988, and it also beat out revenue from ad-supported online music streaming, such as the free version of Spotify.
While old-school audiophiles along with a new wave of record collectors are supporting vinyl’s second coming, scientists are looking at the chemistry of materials that carry and possess carried sounds inside their grooves over time. They hope that by doing this, they are going to boost their capacity to create and preserve these records.
Eric B. Monroe, a chemist on the Library of Congress, is studying the composition of among those materials, wax cylinders, to determine how they age and degrade. To help with this, he or she is examining a tale of litigation and skulduggery.
Although wax cylinders may seem like a primitive storage medium, they were a revelation at that time. Edison invented the phonograph in 1877 using cylinders covered with tinfoil, but he shelved the project to work in the lightbulb, according to sources at the Library of Congress.
But Edison was lured back into the audio game after Alexander Graham Bell and his awesome Volta Laboratory had created wax cylinders. Dealing with chemist Jonas Aylsworth, Edison soon developed a superior brown wax for recording cylinders.
“From an industrial viewpoint, the fabric is beautiful,” Monroe says. He started concentrating on this history project in September but, before that, was working on the specialty chemical firm Milliken & Co., giving him a unique industrial viewpoint of the material.
“It’s rather minimalist. It’s just sufficient for the purpose it must be,” he says. “It’s not overengineered.” There is one looming trouble with the beautiful brown wax, though: Edison and Aylsworth never patented it.
Enter Thomas H. MacDonald of American Graphophone Co., who basically paid people away and off to help him copy Edison’s recipe, Monroe says. MacDonald then filed for a patent around the brown wax in 1898. Although the lawsuit didn’t come until after Edison and Aylsworth introduced a whole new and improved black wax.
To record sound into brown wax cylinders, each one needed to be individually grooved by using a cutting stylus. But the black wax could be cast into grooved molds, making it possible for mass creation of records.
Unfortunately for Edison and Aylsworth, the black wax was really a direct chemical descendant in the brown wax that legally belonged to American Graphophone, so American Graphophone sued Edison’s National Phonograph Co. Fortunately for your defendants, Aylsworth’s lab notebooks showed that Team Edison had, in fact, developed the brown wax first. The firms eventually settled from court.
Monroe continues to be able to study legal depositions in the suit and Aylsworth’s notebooks on account of the Thomas A. Edison Papers Project at Rutgers University, that is endeavoring to make a lot more than 5 million pages of documents associated with Edison publicly accessible.
By using these documents, Monroe is tracking how Aylsworth and his colleagues developed waxes and gaining a greater comprehension of the decisions behind the materials’ chemical design. As an illustration, in an early experiment, Aylsworth crafted a soap using sodium hydroxide and industrial stearic acid. At that time, industrial-grade stearic acid was really a roughly 1:1 mix of stearic acid and palmitic acid, two fatty acids that differ by two carbon atoms.
That early soap was “almost perfection,” Aylsworth remarked in the notebook. But after a few days, the top showed indications of crystallization and records made out of it started sounding scratchy. So Aylsworth added aluminum to the mix and found the proper mixture of “the good, the bad, and also the necessary” features of all ingredients, Monroe explains.
The combination of stearic acid and palmitic is soft, but a lot of it can make for a weak wax. Adding sodium stearate adds some toughness, but it’s also responsible for the crystallization problem. The soft pvc granule prevents the sodium stearate from crystallizing while adding a little extra toughness.
Actually, this wax was a touch too tough for Aylsworth’s liking. To soften the wax, he added another fatty acid, oleic acid. But most these cylinders started sweating when summertime rolled around-they exuded moisture trapped from the humid air-and were recalled. Aylsworth then swapped the oleic acid to get a simple hydrocarbon wax, ceresin. Like oleic acid, it softened the wax. Unlike oleic acid, it added an essential waterproofing element.
Monroe has been performing chemical analyses on both collection pieces and his synthesized samples so that the materials are similar and therefore the conclusions he draws from testing his materials are legit. As an illustration, he could look into the organic content of the wax using techniques for example mass spectrometry and identify the metals inside a sample with X-ray fluorescence.
Monroe revealed the first results from these analyses recently at the conference hosted with the Association for Recorded Sound Collections, or ARSC. Although his first two tries to make brown wax were too crystalline-his stearic acid was too pure and had no palmitic acid inside it-he’s now making substances which can be almost identical to Edison’s.
His experiments also suggest that these metal soaps expand and contract quite a bit with changing temperatures. Institutions that preserve wax cylinders, such as universities and libraries, usually store their collections at about 10 °C. As an alternative to bringing the cylinders from cold storage straight to room temperature, the common current practice, preservationists should enable the cylinders to warm gradually, Monroe says. This will likely minimize the anxiety in the wax and reduce the probability it will fracture, he adds.
The similarity between your original brown wax and Monroe’s brown wax also demonstrates that the fabric degrades very slowly, which can be great news for individuals for example Peter Alyea, Monroe’s colleague on the Library of Congress.
Alyea wishes to recover the info saved in the cylinders’ grooves without playing them. To do this he captures and analyzes microphotographs of your grooves, a method pioneered by researchers at Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory.
Soft wax cylinders were perfect for recording one-off sessions, Alyea says. Business folks could capture dictations using wax and did so up in to the 1960s. Anthropologists also brought the wax to the field to record and preserve the voices and stories of vanishing native tribes.
“There are 10,000 cylinders with recordings of Native Americans in our collection,” Alyea says. “They’re basically invaluable.” Having those recordings captured in a material that appears to stand up to time-when stored and handled properly-may seem like a stroke of fortune, but it’s less than surprising thinking about the material’s progenitor.
“Edison was the engineer’s engineer,” Alyea says. The adjustments he and Aylsworth designed to their formulations always served a purpose: to help make their cylinders heartier, longer playing, or higher fidelity. These considerations and also the corresponding advances in formulations generated his second-generation moldable black wax and in the end to Blue Amberol Records, that have been cylinders made using blue celluloid plastic as opposed to wax.
However, if these cylinders were so excellent, why did the record industry move to flat platters? It’s easier to store more flat records in less space, Alyea explains.
Emile Berliner, inventor of the gramophone, introduced disc-shaped gramophone records pressed in celluloid and hard rubber around 1890, says Bill Klinger. Klinger will be the chair of the Cylinder Subcommittee for ARSC along with encouraged the Library of Congress to start the metal soaps project Monroe is taking care of.
In 1895, Berliner introduced discs according to shellac, a resin secreted by female lac bugs, that might become a record industry staple for decades. Berliner’s discs used an assortment of shellac, clay and cotton fibers, plus some carbon black for color, Klinger says. Record makers manufactured countless discs using this brittle and comparatively cheap material.
“Shellac records dominated the business from 1912 to 1952,” Klinger says. Many of these discs are now called 78s due to their playback speed of 78 revolutions-per-minute, give or go on a few rpm.
PVC has enough structural fortitude to support a groove and endure a record needle.
Edison and Aylsworth also stepped up the chemistry of disc records with a material generally known as Condensite in 1912. “I feel that is quite possibly the most impressive chemistry of your early recording industry,” Klinger says. “By comparison, the competing shellac technology was always crude.”
Klinger says Aylsworth spent years developing Condensite, a phenol-formaldehyde resin that had been just like Bakelite, that was defined as the world’s first synthetic plastic through the American Chemical Society, C&EN’s publisher.
What set Condensite apart, though, was hexamethylenetetramine. Aylsworth added the compound to Condensite to stop water vapor from forming in the high-temperature molding process, which deformed a disc’s surface, Klinger explains.
Edison was literally using a ton of Condensite daily in 1914, but the material never supplanted shellac, largely because Edison’s superior product came with a substantially higher cost, Klinger says. Edison stopped producing records in 1929.
However when Columbia Records released vinyl long-playing records, or LPs, in 1948, shellac’s days within the music industry were numbered. Polyvinyl chloride (PVC) records give a quieter surface, store more music, and so are far less brittle than shellac discs, Klinger says.
Lon J. Mathias, a polymer chemist and professor emeritus on the University of Southern Mississippi, offers another reason why vinyl stumbled on dominate records. “It’s cheap, and it’s easily molded,” he says. Although he can’t talk with the specific composition of today’s vinyl, he does share some general insights into the plastic.
PVC is mainly amorphous, but by a happy accident from the free-radical-mediated reactions that build polymer chains from smaller subunits, the material is 10 to 20% crystalline, Mathias says. For that reason, PVC has enough structural fortitude to support a groove and resist an archive needle without compromising smoothness.
Without having additives, PVC is obvious-ish, Mathias says, so record vinyl needs something similar to carbon black allow it its famous black finish.
Finally, if Mathias was choosing a polymer to use for records and cash was no object, he’d choose polyimides. These materials have better thermal stability than vinyl, that has been seen to warp when left in cars on sunny days. Polyimides also can reproduce grooves better and give a more frictionless surface, Mathias adds.
But chemists continue to be tweaking and improving vinyl’s formulation, says Salstrom of Quality Record Pressings. He’s utilizing his vinyl supplier to discover a PVC composition that’s optimized for thicker, heavier records with deeper grooves to present listeners a sturdier, top quality product. Although Salstrom may be surprised at the resurgence in vinyl, he’s not planning to give anyone any good reasons to stop listening.
A soft brush can usually handle any dust that settles on a vinyl record. But just how can listeners cope with more tenacious dirt and grime?
The Library of Congress shares a recipe for any cleaning solution of 2 mL of Dow Chemical’s Tergitol 15-S-7 in 4 L of deionized water. C&EN spoke with Paula Cameron, a technical service manager with Dow, to learn about the chemistry that helps the transparent pvc compound end up in-and from-the groove.
Molecules in Tergitol 15-S-7 possess hydrophobic hydrocarbon chains which can be between 11 and 15 carbon atoms long. The S means it’s a secondary alcohol, so there’s a hydroxyl jutting dexrpky05 the midsection from the hydrocarbon chain in order to connect it to your hydrophilic chain of repeating ethylene oxide units.
Finally, the 7 is actually a way of measuring the number of moles of ethylene oxide are in the surfactant. The greater the number, the more water-soluble the compound is. Seven is squarely in water-soluble category, Cameron says. Furthermore, she adds, the surfactant doesn’t become viscous or gel-like when blended with water.
The result is actually a mild, fast-rinsing surfactant that could get out and in of grooves quickly, Cameron explains. The not so good news for vinyl audiophiles who might want to try this in your own home is the fact Dow typically doesn’t sell surfactants straight to consumers. Their clients are generally companies who make cleaning products.