Practice: Listen to Albums

Spotify trained me to skip. Now I'm training myself to stay.

On Tuesdays, I share long-form reflections on the forces that have stolen our focus. On Thursdays, I keep it short and practical—spotlighting a change I’m trying to make in my own life, why I chose it, what I’ve noticed so far, and where I’m still struggling. Then, a few months from now, I’ll follow up to let you know how it’s going.

This one hit me a while back as I was listening to (yet another) impeccably curated Spotify playlist. We've lost the art of the album. As I thought about it, this seemed akin to another trend I'd read about last summer—increasingly, students are graduating from high school without ever reading a full book. They're assigned passages, but teachers say that most students today lack the attention span to be able to ingest a full novel.

Photo by sophie peng on Unsplash

So I gave some thought to how we listened to music when I was younger. We'd listen to the radio. If we really wanted to hear our favorite song, we'd make an effort—we'd request it, or we'd save up our allowance and go buy the album. And, when we bought the album, we'd listen to the whole thing. And usually find the song that didn't make it to the radio that spoke to us.

We were patient, we would explore, we would experience. Today's approach to music revolves almost entirely around the playlist—every song must hit to keep us interested. Gone is the emotional journey of the album. It's the equivalent of looking at a Polaroid of Mona Lisa's face and considering that your experience in art.

So, what is the practice here? I'm trying to be intentional about listening to 1-2 albums a day. I haven't eschewed playlists entirely, but if I'm going to put on some music while I work, or take a long drive, I'm increasingly reaching for an album.

The first week was harder than expected. My finger hovers over the skip button during slow intros. I catch myself wondering how many songs are left. But something interesting happens around day three—I start anticipating the transitions. You know that moment when one song ends and you already hear the opening of the next in your head? That's been gone for years, replaced by algorithmic surprise.

I feel like I'm regaining something that was lost. I get to sit with one artist for an hour and experience their vision. Or, better yet, if I'm at home, I'll pull out a vinyl and listen that way. The ritual of flipping the record forces a kind of intentionality that even clicking "play" on a full album doesn't quite capture.

There have been failures too. Some albums demand stillness, rapt attention. Others surprise you. And some bring you back to a specific space and time. A season of life.

Do you listen to albums any more? What are your favorites?