Of all the rituals I’ve lost, the one I miss the most is playing a record. Finding it in the shelf, enjoying the cover, getting the vinyl out without fingerprinting it. The awe at the dots in the border of the platter, stopped by the stroboscopic magic; the subtle feeling of pride after expertly placing the needle on the turning record without making a noise…
Bach never sounded as good on CD, let alone on some digital format out of a prosaic computer. Hell, it may not have sounded as good in Saint Thomas..!

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