1996. A newlywed in a small town in the mountains of Virginia. A sparsely furnished first-floor apartment. The burn in the linoleum left by a comal that split and was sent flying from the electric stove. Strumming my acoustic guitar to this CD in the barren living room, separated by a plastic sheet hung to keep the heat in the side of the apartment we actually used. Carver 900 receiver, Advent Legacy speakers, that crappy Panasonic five-disc changer that everyone had. Feeling weird that I didn't have anyone to hang out with and listen to this new CD. Wondering if I'll ever see my friends again. Nobody here knows who I am.
The chances of me listening to this album on a streaming service were none. I can't remember the last time I listened to it. And, while I listened to Recovering the Satellites considerably less than August and Everything After, I must have listened enough because everything came back to me. This is the beauty of physical media — I would never have found this in my virtual media collection.
You can buy this CD on my Discogs store.