I Gave Away My Record Collection.

I’m writing to get it back.

I had a modest record collection in college...

…maybe a few dozen albums. And, I had hundreds of CDs, in jewel cases on a bookshelf, or in clunky pleather binders tucked into slippery plastic sleeves.

Along came iTunes, and the iPod, and I began collecting digital files for everything in my collection. I could now own more music than imaginable, and keep it all in the palm of my hand. I graduated from college with no plan beyond camping in my friend’s back yard for the summer, and no place to put my stuff. The music collection was an easy thing to give up - I thought I’d found a replacement.

But I missed something essential.

Records are fundamentally an interaction.

Records, CDs, cassettes — they’re all opportunities to further your connection with the artist. Their physicality engages your senses - the artwork and liner notes, the crisp edges of the sleeve, the delicate weight of the disc, even the smell of the ink on the jacket - all of it puts you in conversation with the music. (I suppose you could lick the vinyl if you want… weirdo.)

I’m slowly rebuilding my physical music collection, but I’ve got a long way to go. In the interim, this space is my attempt to restart that interaction with my favorite music. I’ll look back at the records I used to own, what they meant to me, and how listening to them shaped my understanding of the world. I’ll also write about the insane amount of music I’ve started listening to since I left the physical collection behind, and the music that’s catching my ear today.

Do me a solid - subscribe.

Look, I’m fine with writing into the void. I’ve been doing it most of my life. But I think it’ll be more fun to have you along. Along with weekly posts, I’ll also share a weekly playlist on a theme. Subscribers will be able to suggest themes & songs, and will be the bedrock of this newsletter.

Photo by Samuel Regan-Asante on Unsplash

---