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A tangible collection of familiar, curated, browsable music is something I never want to lose site of. I recently joined the new vinyl movement in an effort to be intentional about the music I listen to.

Music is a dear and faithful companion in my life. I’ve never been comfortable with commoditizing it into an endless loop of shuffling playlists from computer algorithms and people I don’t know.

No—the choice of music is driven by my soul’s need to confirm and accommodate my emotions. Even as I write this, I sit here on this cool crisp morning with my espresso and Enya’s ethereal Dark Sky Island on the turntable. An evocation of emotion is strengthened as I’ve deliberately selected the music that fits the mood. Have you ever chosen a playlist from a streaming service that claims to hold the mood you’ve had to label and only realized it was nothing like you thought it would be? I don’t know how much of the population relates to these moods or if they only succumb to the masses as infinite streaming rises up “a digital marketplace that’s trying to instill in me loyalty toward certain streaming services rather than the music and the artists themselves.”

Thank you. Musically yours.

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