If you don’t know me well, it may not be obvious that collecting records is the perfect hobby for me: it’s expensive, easy to get passionate about, few people care, and yes, it’s fairly pretentious. Record collecting even has dedicated and beloved shops for its adherents, often questionably lit and with entrances on side roads or alleys, a-la used book stores. It’s really got my name written all over it. So it might come as a surprise that I’ve never bothered until recently to be interested in it. You see, I’m not really that into music.
But as it turns out collecting records doesn’t really require that you listen to them. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself as I buy them recently and then proceed to listen to them on Apple Music while I wait for them to arrive.
I don’t even have a record player, but I’m up to five records on my shelf and in my Discogs account:
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So Much (For) Stardust
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Electric Mangrove
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Signs of Life
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