Members of my generation are expected to take a record, flee for the lawn and toss it among our peers in a gleeful game of Frisbee.
For some exceptions (myself included), there is a curiosity of why there would be such an admiration for the days when the LP never ceased its spin; there is also curiosity about why people would downgrade the convenience of digitalization of music.
I pondered this while listening to an original recording a week ago on Spotify, prior to its re-mastered crafting; becoming appreciative of the lo-fi quirks scattered throughout the selection, it was another way for me to listen to the song; it gave it an amount of warmth, regardless of its other nuances.
A couple of months ago, Record Store Day memes and write-ups started springing up on social media, so this resurgence of the ideal listening experiences has been drifting around the Internet for a while. I am aware that most of the fondness is connected to the simpler times when music was carefully recorded without the, now popular enhancements, and thus, songs were more wholesome in nature; I get it, but I am also aware that it led to a generation of listeners and record collectors. And, with that, there is an inclination to admire the act of sifting through garage sales for old favorites and periodically dusting them off and returning them to their place on the shelf; all of that seems delightful, a classic reminder of an escaped era. It is slightly ironic that it my appreciation for a song would arrive through a modern platform. Regardless, I have discovered the way some tunes channel their less than enhanced analog selves. I am also fortunate that I have yet to purchase a record; though, I can build anticipation for when it is possible to hear for myself.