Mack the Knife on Wax

Today I got my first new record player since - geez, since the late 1980s, early 1990s?  I'm not sure.  I just remember my last stereo was maroon - it was an unusual time.  That said, I recently had been thinking of getting one, for sometime actually, and finally, after much dillying and a great deal of dallying, well, I sprang for one - nothing too expensive or fancy, but nice enough.  Since then I've been wandering flea markets and antique stores looking for albums - nothing fancy, mind you - my spending limit on the upper end has been a couple bucks an album but more frequently I've spent around 50 cents a piece.  And now I'm listening to albums someone lovingly bought between the 1920s and 1970s, jazz and big band mostly, and there is a real comfort to it - the physicality of album, the tangibility.  I don't know if the sound quality is that much better than digital formats, my ear isn't that attuned, but I know that it is pleasant to ear the crackling and rumbling of needle on wax and to think of other people physically interacting with these objects the same way.  So, yes.  A real pleasure.  As for my inaugural song, I thought I'd share:

Anamanaguchi's "Jetpack Blues, Sunset Hues"

Consider this song from the album Dawn Metropolis by Anamanaguchi, a kick-ass group I discovered thanks to The Nerdist's podcast. . . if you don't miss your NES ten seconds, well, you're weird. Weird-ish.