The author dreams of a yellow cover with a triangle sticker. Each side would hold six songs. In disc A, the singles; in disc B, the acoustic cuts. A fascination with contrasts emerges here: records that race at first and end in a hushed, ragged whisper. The cover would be a matte finish, accented by a palette of colorful strokes. The debut would be christened Garabatos, with letters screen printed to give it a tactile, handmade feel. When the box is opened, the credits spill out, inviting those who still care for physical media to study them with enthusiasm. The narrative would unfold inside the sleeve, using the liner notes to tell the origin of every track, inviting listeners to uncover the hidden details behind each song.
The artistic project would belong to someone different from the one writing these lines, and the plan would include a duet with Andrea Corr, perhaps presenting a candid version of her beloved track Summer Sun. A limited run of 500 copies would be envisioned, possibly becoming a cult object in the years ahead. The fantasy has taken shape in the imagination, and the goal is simply to turn it into reality. The first career album, imagined as a self-made milestone, would be ready in about ten weeks.
Now, many others want the same: Eugenio López, co-owner of Mad Vinyl, a compact factory in Algete, near Madrid. It marks the third facility of its kind to open in Spain after Press Play Vinyl in Vizcaya and Krakatoa Records in Castellón, following the format’s troubled news cycle. Since December 2020 the press has operated at full tilt. This signals a revival in the vinyl market. The data echo the sentiment: for the first time in more than three decades, vinyl outsold CDs. In Spain, vinyl accounts for roughly 54 percent of sales versus 44 percent for CDs. Promusicae notes that the first half of 2022 saw demand rise by about 25.6 percent to 13.6 million euros. Between 2013 and 2021 shipments jumped from 140,000 copies to more than 1.6 million copies, showing a robust rebound in a market that once seemed in decline.
Yet it remains a niche boom. About 81 percent of vinyl revenue still comes from listening, while nearly 50 million CDs were sold in 1999. The industry shows signs of recovery after a decade of hardship, driven by collectors, the tangible experience of vinyl, reissues of beloved acts, and the fervor of artists like Taylor Swift and Rosalía. Eugenio embraces the momentum with confidence. The focus is not on big-name superstars but on strong, well-crafted songs, with the belief that a quality piece deserves the best possible support. Vinyl remains the most hands-on format, requiring more than just machines; it demands a real craft. He recalls maintaining a close, almost familial relationship with the equipment since childhood, a bond that strengthens his commitment today. The studio is alive with new projects from Marlango, Robe, Mónica Naranjo, Zahara, and Guitarricadelafuente, a hub that keeps moving forward. As he puts it, discovering new music is easy in the digital era, but in younger years the scene was dominated by discos and DJ booths, a memory that resonates with his early nights in Pachá Madrid. The vinyl boom of the 1980s reshaped the music landscape in surprising ways.
Many albums in the vinyl format have faded away simply because production ceased, not because listeners rejected the format. There was even talk of expanding capacity, but the aspiration never materialized. Much of the wasted stock came from the United States, where inventories were cleared almost immediately as the industry shifted. By contrast, Germany and the Czech Republic retained more of their holdings, supported by government subsidies, allowing them to maintain a foothold in the market. These regions now lead the global turnover thanks to their long-running familiarity with original pressings and the expertise to translate them into current uses. They have also embraced new equipment designed to meet the digital demands of today, with base prices often exceeding 250,000 euros. The shift toward revival is a matter of adaptation and resilience rather than mere nostalgia.
It was not until 2014 that new advances emerged in Sweden, where companies anticipated market shifts and began marketing spare parts ahead of time. The United Kingdom was already drawing attention, and preparations began in earnest: financing, investments, and connections. Through a fortuitous connection, the founder met a legendary football figure who shared a love for music; together, they acquired the company on March 2, 2020. By March 11, they faced arrest, an obstacle that did not derail the venture. The momentum continued as plans pressed forward with stubborn optimism.
The debut album eventually surfaced on a notable date in late autumn: the team started by collecting the machinery on weekends, initially thinking the venture would remain small, producing about 300 LPs per month. The reality proved far more ambitious: production now reaches up to 3,000 units in a single day. The catalog expanded beyond rock to include pop, flamenco, reggaeton, indie, and electronic acts, serving both local talents and international artists alike.
In the imagined scenario, the project would target musicians eager to press their songs on vinyl to sell at live shows. Runs would be short and daring, with the workflow starting by sending the audio to a host with precise qualifications. Once approved, the audio is cut onto a metal disc with an acetate layer, a lacquer that captures the essential groove. Stamps are created to duplicate copies, and the prepared plates are placed into the machine as polyvinyl chloride seeds are heated. The edges are trimmed, and the discs are stacked on a coil to cool before sleeving. This is the craft behind the vivid, tactile warmth of vinyl, a process that turns music into a tangible artifact for fans to hold and cherish, long after the final note fades.