Brian Sears swiftly, yet meticulously, flips through his collection of vinyl records trying to find the perfect song. His eyes widen as he spots it. Literally on the edge of his seat, he slowly slides the 7-inch 45-rpm record from its sleeve.

He is so excited he can barely complete his sentences.

“This one. This is a record that I was just going crazy over,” said Sears, a senior from Lawrence.

Sears smiles as the funk and soul rip through the speakers. His feet compulsively tap to the persistent beat of the now antiquated soul classic.

Sears, who frequently deejays at the Eighth Street Tap Room, is a devoted music lover obsessed with the history and rarity of records, specifically soul and funk singles.

Music mediums today are endless and each — from CDs to MP3s — tries to top the other. But the digital music age isn’t preventing people such as Sears from relishing in vinyl record.

“There’s so much music out there that has never really seen the light of day, and I want to experience hearing the greatest song ever all the time,” Sears said. “It’s a true natural high for me, and if I want it, I’ll try and get it no matter how hard it is.”

Each of Sears’ records are from artists all over the country. He looks through his box of records, pulling out a few one by one.

The artists whose records he collects never earned much from their record sales, and if they did, it was very minimal, he said.

“It’s America. This is Ohio. This is fucking St. Louis. This is Detroit. This is New York — it just goes on and on,” Sears said.

For the record

Steve Wilson, manager at Kief’s Downtown Music, 823 Massachusetts St., said he had seen an incremental increase in vinyl sales during the past few years.

“Used records are more profitable then just about anything else we’re doing right now,” Wilson said. “It’s not just turning dollars over. It keeps businesses in business.”

Wilson said vinyl accounted for about 20 percent of the store’s sales. Generally, records at Kief’s are in high demand because the store can easily acquire them.

Wilson said he sometimes found himself downloading albums. But burning an album to a CD and writing its title with a sharpie on the disc isn’t the same as having the real thing.

“People are yearning for something tactile, and while a CD represents that to a limited extent, vinyl represents that to a greater extent,” he said.

Kelly Corcoran, manager at Love Garden Sounds, 822 Massachusetts St., said for the most part his customers were there for the music. Corcoran keeps it simple. People like music. They like records. They come in and browse. And if they’re interested and if the price is right, they’ll buy one to add to their collection.

“It’s the ceremony that’s the bigger deal with records,” Corcoran said. “There are very few things that seem like magic. A needle in the groove of a record seems like a magic trick.”

Corcoran said about 60 percent of Love Garden’s sales were from vinyl. The store usually stocks 10,000 to 12,000 records and only 3,000 to 4,000 CDs, Corcoran said.

“It makes whatever culture or piece of art that you care about seem real and tangible in a world that’s filled with the mess of information that you constantly get,” Corcoran said.

Much of the inventory at Kief’s and Love Garden Sounds is the result of people cleaning out basements or storage areas and discovering their or their parents’ old records.

“It’s kind of like mining for gold,” Wilson said. “If someone brings in 300 records, chances are 280 of them are crap. There might be 15 that are pretty cool, three that are great and two that are amazing.”

Piece of history

Ilan Gitter, a Lawrence resident and avid vinyl collector from Chicago, said he enjoyed having the authenticity of a vinyl record and knowing its related history.

“Those are what was actually played in people’s houses in the ’60s and ’70s,” Ilan said. “It’s a little time capsule.”

Gitter said listening to vinyl was an event. People are enthralled in what they’re hearing instead of just turning on an iPod and listening to songs in the background.

Sears has spent more than $200 on one 45 album a handful of times. The records he owns all vary in value from $50 to $500, and he estimated his collection was worth $6,000 to $7,000. But he isn’t interested in that.

“It’s not about the money — it’s about the music,” Sears said. “It’s like the truest form of American music. It’s history.”

— Edited by Michael Holtz