As Justin said in his Decade entry on Sufjan Stevens’ Michigan, some albums feel intrinsically linked to the experience of listening to them. Maybe it’s a romantic sentiment, but music works like some aural madeleine, carrying dense and indulgent sensory memories that go deeper than the textures of the notes and melodies and into some–well, okay, it is a romantic sentiment, but if we’ve all brushed off romance, then we probably already . . .
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