remember when an album came out and it was the most exciting thing in the world, and nothing else mattered until you were done listening? that’s an awesome feeling, let’s run it back. recently, I’ve been listening to albums start to finish, instead of just a song or two or putting it on shuffle. think about it—when was the last time you just put on one album and listened to it all the way through, as it was intended? I only see people with record players listen like that, and now, with the rise of DJs, shortened attention spans, and unlimited skips, we forget to take a moment and soak it all in: the music, the lyrics, the story the artist wrote, and how each song intertwines and forms a kind of family tree.

it sounds dumb and obvious, but it’s been beautiful revisiting old stories I forgot some chapters of. it feels like a time capsule, bringing me back to my first listen—how everything has changed, yet the lyrics still ring true. also, I know everyone has free will and all, but it would bother me if I were an artist who created a story and others disregarded the entirety of it. I wouldn’t feel seen. maybe that isn’t the point, but I think there’s beauty in listening as intended. sorry, I’ll get off my soapbox now.