Thank you Elliot for this insightful piece — it expresses many of the feelings I’ve had in the years since the release of the iPod and iTunes. I still own hundreds of LPs that I search through by looking for familiar colors and patterns of the out-facing edge before I look at the cover itself for absolute verification that I’ve found the one I’m looking for, so like you, I really miss album art which once served as a hint of what’s inside.

I’ve somehow managed to hold onto my B&O linear tracking turntable, a piece of electronics rendered largely unnecessary by the forces you described were it not for aesthetic sensabilities.

When I was a teenager I worked in a record store, and during breaks I would flip through the bins and pull albums with covers that interested me. Next I would read the lists of session musicians on the back and if some of the greats (i.e. members of what came to be known as the Wrecking Crew or a handful of other favorite musicians) were listed, I’d often buy the album then and there. I found some of my favorites this way (eg. Valerie Carter — “Just a Stone’s Throw Away”, 1977 or Michael Franks — “The Art of Tea”, 1976). Other times, the album art was so curious I just had to find out what was inside (eg. Gene Clark — “Two Sides To Every Story”, 1977). This emotionally-driven selection process was the driver behind quite a few of my favorite LP purchases.

Now when I want to buy the digital version of one of my old LP favorites instead of just streaming it on Spotify, I look for the album art thumbnail as confirmation that I’ve found the one I want. Like the rest of the world, aparently, I’m also beginning to question the long-term value of “owning” music since most of it is in the Cloud — increasingly as a single song in a playlist but no longer as an album — and at these times I wonder what else we’ve quietly lost in the pursuit of efficiency.