Rhythm Exchange Records

Why obsessive record cleaning is ruining vinyl collecting, and what actually works

New vinyl collectors are losing their minds over record cleaning, and honestly? It’s getting ridiculous.

I’ve watched people spend hours researching whether distilled water is superior to filtered water (spoiler: it doesn’t really matter)! I’ve seen collectors perform elaborate pre-play rituals that would make a neurosurgeon nervous. And I’ve read forum threads debating cleaning techniques with the intensity of a geopolitical summit.

Meanwhile, their records sit on the shelf. Unplayed. Overly pampered. Obsessively clean.

Here’s what decades of collecting vinyl has taught me: you’re probably overthinking this, and you might actually be damaging your records in the process.

When Records Were Just Records

Let me drag you back to the 1980s when I started collecting. Records weren’t precious artifacts, they were how you listened to music. Full stop.

Your options were vinyl, cassette tapes, or the radio. Tapes chewed themselves to death, and radio only played your favourites when the DJ felt like it. So records it was.

We didn’t treat them like Fabergé eggs. We grabbed an LP, gave it a quick brush if we remembered, and dropped the needle. The world kept spinning. The stylus survived. We enjoyed our music.

Sure, we cared. But we didn’t lose sleep over microscopic dust particles or spend more time cleaning than listening. A visible smudge? Quick wipe. Move on. Play music.

That was it.

The modern vinyl anxiety epidemic

Fast forward to today, and new collectors are genuinely stressed about their records.

I’ve seen people research cleaning methods more thoroughly than an archaeologist researching their current thesis on ancient Mesopotamian ceramics. Entire forums debate synthetic solutions versus distilled water with the passion of religious zealots. Influencers display elaborate cleaning rituals like they’re gospel.

Here’s the reality: vinyl records are tougher than you think.

They were designed to be played, not hermetically sealed in archival storage rooms. I’ve got albums from 1985 that sound brilliant with minimal cleaning because I did one simple thing, I didn’t obsess over them. I treated them with basic respect, not like they were made of precious silk and good intentions.

Heck, back in my DJ days, I had 12″ records that had more fingerprints on them than a 10-year-old iPad. They still played fine.

Now, before you think I’m advocating for treating your records like coasters, I’m not. Dirty vinyl is actually bad for your stylus. Fingerprint oils clog grooves and gunk up your needle. Records do need care.

But they’re not going to disintegrate at the first sign of dust.

What actually works (without the theatre)

After decades of collecting, here’s my approach: dead simple, actually effective, and won’t bankrupt you.

For everyday plays: A quality anti-static brush. Use it before every spin. It takes 10 seconds. Removes surface dust. Done.

For second-hand records or deep cleaning: I just use a Spin Clean. Spray your record with distilled water to loosen the grime. Fill the cleaner with distilled water and cleaning solution, give your records a few rotations, gently wipe excess liquid with a clean microfibre, then let them dry completely before playing. It’s effective, affordable, and doesn’t require an engineering degree.

That’s it.

No exotic solutions containing imported water from Swiss mountain springs. No brushes made from ethically sourced unicorn hair. No ritualistic ceremonies performed under a full moon while chanting the names of audiophile gods.

I’ve watched Instagram reels of collectors performing elaborate cleaning rituals like there’s some unwritten law demanding these sacred rites before each play. Look, I get it, vinyl is tactile, and analogue experiences inspire a bit of ceremony. But I just can’t be arsed with theatrical nonsense that makes younger collectors think they’ll be struck down if they don’t follow these elaborate commandments.

What really grinds my gears? Vinyl influencers that perpetuate this paranoia. Making people think they need a $1000 cleaning machine to clean one record before you play it on your $300 turntable purchased on Amazon. Fair enough if you’re a serious collector who is dropping a small country’s foreign aid budget on audiophile-level equipment. But let’s face it, the majority of people researching this stuff aren’t at that level.

The dark side of over-cleaning

Here’s where obsessive cleaners actually cause damage while trying to prevent it.

Wet playing syndrome: I’ve seen people wet-clean records with some whizz-bang cleaning fluid, give them a quick wipe on the turntable, then immediately play them without proper drying. Sure, they may appear dry, but microscopic amounts of moisture will remain. You’re essentially using your $200 cartridge as a squeegee, hydroplaning through moisture-filled grooves. Brilliant way to wreck both your record and your stylus.

Confusing static with dirt: Those clicks and pops you hear on the record aren’t always caused by dirt. Obsessive wet cleaning, in spite of what is said on forums, will not remove static. This comes back to storage methods and humidity. An anti-static gun helps with bad static, but cheaper solutions such as anti-static playing mats and quality sleeves will also help. For the love of records, don’t get sucked into those pre-play anti-static solutions, sure, they may appear to work, but they also destroy your stylus.

Over-wiping: Constantly wiping your records causes wear over time and actually pushes dirt further into the grooves. Some internet-sourced homemade cleaning solutions containing different kinds of harsh liquids can also react with vinyl, either causing build-up in the grooves or long-term damage.

Sure, I’ll admit my Spin Clean is more aggressive than fancy ultrasonic machines. But given how infrequently I need to deep clean, the risk is negligible. And that $1500 I didn’t spend on a cleaning machine? That’s quite a few more records in my collection.

Storage: The secret they’re not selling you

Want the real secret to pristine records? Correct storage!

Store vertically. Keep away from heat and direct sunlight. Use decent inner and outer sleeves. Keep them in a clean room with limited amounts of dust.

Good storage prevents 90% of the problems excessive cleaning tries to solve. An ounce of prevention beats a pound of cure.

I’ve actually covered this extensively in my previous post on vinyl storage techniques, but trust me: storage is your best defense against record degradation.

Finding your balance

There’s a sweet spot between neglect and obsessive-compulsive disorder. Clean when records need it, not because it’s been exactly five plays since the last clean.

My rule: If you can see dirt or dust, clean it. If you can’t, enjoy your music instead of fussing over invisible demons.

Do your own research. Find what works for you. But make sure it’s solid information, not forum opinions from someone who’s collected for six months and is regurgitating product descriptions on the back of whatever bottle of expensive snake oil they saw on Amazon.

Look, I’m no expert, there are way more knowledgeable people out there who have done the research. But I’ve been doing this long enough to know what works and what’s marketing bollocks.

Half the “essential” cleaning products marketed today didn’t exist 30 years ago. My oldest records still sound like the day I bought them. Funny, that.

The bottom line

Vinyl collecting should be a relaxing experience, not an anxiety-riddled chore brought on by internet misinformation.

Yes, care for your records. They’re worth it. But remember, these black discs were made to be enjoyed, not preserved in perpetual clinical cleanliness.

There’s too much hype in modern collecting. Too much marketing disguised as advice. Of course the latest cleaning solution made from rare Siberian otter tears (don’t laugh, it could be a thing) claims to deliver the cleanest, most static-free sound you’ve ever heard. But is it really better than some distilled water and a clean microfibre?

Probably not.

Next time you’re tempted to give your records their third clean this week, just play one instead. Sit back, relax, and remember why you started collecting in the first place.

Because vinyl sounds great the way it is, even with a little dust adding to the warm analogue goodness.

Keep it simple. Stop obsessing. Enjoy the music.

What’s your take? Are you a fellow minimalist, or do you think I’m too relaxed about vinyl care? Drop your thoughts in the comments.