{"text":[[{"start":6.69,"text":"There comes a point when you realise that, despite all the progress of modern civilisation, you’ve been robbed."}],[{"start":14.68,"text":"Not in some balaclava-clad phone-snatching episode, but that you’ve been gently, almost politely, relieved of something you once valued."}],[{"start":25.259999999999998,"text":"In my case, it’s music. I don’t own any of my own music any more. Barely a recorded second of my favourite albums of the past decade is mine to keep. The same goes for TV shows and films. If I stop paying the subscription — or the platform falls out with the publisher or the production company — it’s bye-bye Harry Styles’ latest."}],[{"start":49.709999999999994,"text":"Before you accuse me of thinking the pinnacle of human achievement was reached some time between the invention of the Breville toasted sandwich maker and the decline of corduroy, I’d like to point out that the kids are with me on this one."}],[{"start":63.13999999999999,"text":"According to reports in the LA Times and elsewhere, Gen Z is enthusiastically returning to physical media in droves, be that with DVDs, Blu-Rays, cassettes or games. In the US, declines in physical media sales are slowing."}],[{"start":80.97999999999999,"text":"While 20-somethings and I may not exactly see eye-to-eye on some matters — such as that you should pick up your work phone when someone calls you on it — in this case they’re on to something."}],[{"start":92.80999999999999,"text":"Streaming has its benefits, of course. The ability to summon almost any song ever recorded in seconds while in a Tube station or standing in a departure lounge is extraordinary."}],[{"start":106.6,"text":"We live in a world where cars can drive themselves (miraculously), fridges can talk to us (unnecessarily), and for those of us born in the seventies or before, inexplicably, you can conjure the Pet Shop Boys out of thin air while standing somewhere under Tottenham Court Road."}],[{"start":125.58999999999999,"text":"It’s not like the tech we had before was flawless either."}],[{"start":129.53,"text":"The Sony Walkman, much as I loved it, was a faff of near-operatic proportions. Choosing tapes, carrying them, untangling headphones that behaved as if they’d developed a personality disorder halfway through the journey, and always (always!) having a pencil to hand in case the cassette unspooled. A system of engineering so advanced it required a writing implement to function."}],[{"start":155.63,"text":"But when it comes to the music that actually matters to me, the albums I return to, the ones that reward proper listening, I want something permanent. Something that doesn’t disappear because a licensing agreement in California wobbled."}],[{"start":171.95999999999998,"text":"This is why, quietly at first and now with increasing enthusiasm, I’m building my vinyl collection again."}],[{"start":181.26,"text":"I say “again” because, in a rare moment of foresight — or more accurately laziness combined with a large loft — I never sold my original records."}],[{"start":193.59,"text":"The vinyl revival is as old as the iPhone. Sales in the UK have been rising for 19 consecutive years. And I can see why. A vinyl record isn’t merely a format. It’s an event."}],[{"start":207.28,"text":"The sleeve: large, unapologetic and often beautiful. You don’t scroll past it; you commit to it. Then the ritual: removing the record, clasping only the edge, placing it on the turntable, lowering the needle with the sort of concentration usually reserved for delicate surgery, or defusing something that could, at any moment, explode."}],[{"start":233.22,"text":"And then: pause. Crackle. That sound."}],[{"start":237.92,"text":"Not just the music, but the anticipation of it. The faintly theatrical nonsense of the whole process, like opening a bottle of wine and pretending you can detect “notes of blackberry” when in reality you’re just relieved it doesn’t strip the lining from your sinuses."}],[{"start":256.86,"text":"Compare this to streaming, where music begins with all the ceremony of switching on a kettle. If we don’t treat art like it’s something special, then it will cease to be special. I think that’s what Gen Z is rebelling against. Either that, or they’ve caught the nostalgia bug from watching too much Stranger Things. "}],[{"start":276.74,"text":"Of course, none of this would matter if the system were dreadful. But it isn’t."}],[{"start":281.57,"text":"A proper hi-fi set-up is one of life’s great, unnecessary pleasures. A turntable with heft and purpose. An amplifier that looks as though it could power a small village and, if incorrectly wired, will immediately attempt to. Speakers that don’t so much play music as deliver it with intent, occasionally alarming both neighbours and pets."}],[{"start":305.71,"text":"And then there are CDs. The much-maligned shiny discs currently languishing in charity shops like retired aristocrats waiting for someone to remember their title and give them something more dignified to do than sit next to a chipped Andrew and Fergie mug. I still have 8,000 of them, and I am eagerly awaiting their revival. Where vinyl has romance, CD has precision — and both offer something that streaming cannot: possession."}],[{"start":335.25,"text":"And both lead you back to one of life’s great pleasures: the record shop. They’re joyous places to spend hours riffling through racks, reassuringly organised according to a system that made perfect sense to an owner in 1978 and absolutely no one since. They are guided not by algorithms but by instinct, curiosity, and striking album covers."}],[{"start":360.85,"text":"Which is how, at an antiques fair last week, I found myself clutching a 1971 recording of Deep Purple live at the Royal Albert Hall, accompanied by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and conducted by Malcolm Arnold. This isn’t something that appears on a streaming homepage between “Chilled Vibes” and “Focus Beats for Productivity.” This is discovery. The sort of discovery that makes you briefly consider buying more equipment because you “need” an amplifier with a volume meter, needles dancing up and down like tiny overexcited fairground rides."}],[{"start":399.75,"text":"Streaming is useful. Brilliant, even. But for the music that matters, the albums that demand to be heard from beginning to end, it isn’t enough. The future may be convenient. But the past, properly played, still sounds better because it’s yours."}],[{"start":416.94,"text":"And, crucially, it doesn’t require a software update."}],[{"start":423.24,"text":"James Max is a broadcaster on TV and radio. X, Instagram & Threads @thejamesmax"}],[{"start":440.12,"text":""}]],"url":"https://audio.ftcn.net.cn/album/a_1774857374_2986.mp3"}