Blown away

by Anton Zuiker on March 24, 2026

My friend Michael invited me over for dinner last night. “Bring a few of your albums that you’d like to listen to on my system,” he said. Over dinner last fall, I’d told him I’d started collecting vinyl records and the family was enjoying playing them in our big main room. I gathered up Simon and Garfunkel, Fleetwood Mac, Kurt Vile, and a couple of others.

I got to Michael’s house and he was grilling a sausage from Woodland Farm. We sat in the kitchen and ate the sausage and peppers and slices of baguette, drank the Great Lakes Dortmunder Gold I’d brought, and talked about our work in writing and websites, but also travel and next-chapter projects.

Then, we stepped into the music room. Michael’s audio system is miles above what I have. He had me sit in the center of the sofa in front of the tall speakers that were evenly spaced apart, but also the same distance from the room’s walls. We started with Bridge Over Troubled Water and I was immediately stunned by the waves of audio. The music was coming straight at me even though the speakers were spread in front. Wow. Rumours was amazing, the mixing of the voices and instruments so masterful and mesmerizing. I kept turning my head back and forth, my ears trying to make sense of this new musical experience. And Vile’s Wakin’ on a Pretty Day, a song I often play in the van when I’m driving to work, ended with a streamer of crinkling sound that I hadn’t known was there.

“Did you hear anything new?” Michael had asked me after the first few songs. He’d known I would. He has a very good sound system.

Michael also told me about the jazz kissa, or listening cafes, and the more recent American attempts to facilitate music appreciation in bars, and also about UNC professor Mark Katz, who is teaching a graduate seminar on Analog. (I told him about Craig Mod’s Kissa by Kissa, a book I wrote about as one to hold and enjoy.)

We listened to music for a couple of hours. After my records, we heard War on Drugs and Wilco and ended with the celestial Come Away with Me by Norah Jones. I was exhausted from listening so intently.

I also was energized with this new way of listening. Michael had encouraged me to listen to a full side of a record without speaking. This was hard for me, but I recognized the lesson. For much of my adult life, I’ve been told I’m a good listener, but even so in the last few years I’ve worked on my listening skills, especially on pausing a few seconds before I begin to answer or address someone. But here was a deeper and even more patient listening, a giving in to be attentive longer.

‘Meditate much?’ I can hear you asking. I’ve been trying, but my stamina in silence is not much longer than the side of a record. Meditation and music seem like good companions for me on my journey to being a better listener.

I’m grateful to Michael for this experience.

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