The Analog Resistance.

The Vanguard Advance; and I've got the CD

I stepped into a record shop packed with people and wondered how often they still scrolled for music in their side pocket. As a matter of fact, with such ease of access available, why was anyone still here at all, when they didn’t have to be?

Were they fed up with discovery from behind a computer screen and nobody to share it with in the rare moment they stumble upon gold?

It wasn’t the first time I thought these things. After all, why was I there that night?

It seemed to defy logic. None of it made sense.

What the hell were we doing here?

In the record shop there’s definitely atmosphere. Community. You can meet with friends there (in-person, actually) as music plays on the loudspeaker and you discover even more up and down every aisle.

Maybe there’s something to be said for holding a record in your hands. Or doing so in the company of others, whether you know them or not.

But then, today I’m catching news reports of how independent bookstores are on the rise, which doesn’t surprise me, because I find a similar atmosphere in every bookstore I visit across the country.

Maybe people do like actually going to a place. In this case, looking for a book or getting turned onto one. Maybe yet, some people just like to be there, often not even leaving with anything, but still dropping in to hang out for a while and see what's going on, picking up on something they can't quite define, but whatever it is, it's something of value and worth the trip.

In any case, Big Media seems to be catching on:

These days in the age of streaming, people still get worried about movie theaters becoming a thing of the past. I remember during lockdown how going to the movies was one of those things I missed the most, where I felt like I’d taken it all for granted.

I couldn't wait to get back, even if it was to see something lousy. Fast forward to now, and I value the theaters more than ever.

Anyways I’m not a nostalgic person, but I do appreciate how some things were made more for the sake of enjoying it. Not simply accessing it, but experiencing it. As there’s more thought and care that goes into the latter. It’s evident when you step into a theater. It’s evident when you hold a book in your hands, or a vinyl record. A CD or DVD copy.

But putting all that aside, why else might physical media be ideal?

Well for one thing, it doesn’t require an internet connection.

Sometimes it feels like if any one symbol could truly represent the last few years of “convenience” in our society, it might as well be that goddamn buffering symbol.

In these moments, I can’t help but picture a boardroom of suits having a laugh, continuing to launch and merge or buy up one service at a time, still filling their pocketbooks as they keep diluting art into content; all while I'm just trying to watch the latest episode of something before getting told again that I need to reset my password—the latest episode of a show that might, in a few more years, be written by a machine. Hell, it might even star James Dean, somehow back from the dead. Maybe a Tik-Tok star I’m for whatever reason supposed to know.

You might ask whether young people are simply going to record stores now because they're a bunch of hipsters and it’s all a fleeting trend and nothing more. Well hey, maybe in some cases that's a little bit of the reason. I don’t underestimate the power of trends and what’s in fashion at a given time, but I don’t think that’s what is happening here.

I think this is something much bigger than wanting to be a part of a scene.

I think it’s about reclaiming something in great danger of being lost.

While it may not be easy to put your finger on, or break down into a science, that does’t mean it’s not real, let alone significant. Like so many worthwhile things in life, it may not require an explanation, but the feeling is enough.

I suspect you’re picking up on it too.

If not now, you may very soon.

But in any case, I'll be right there with you.

I’ll see you at the bookstores, friends.