Since I’ve begun using vinyl the summer after my sophomore year, I have discovered something more than just “music”: I’ve discovered an experience, something unlike anything else in the modern music world. There’s so many different aspects of vinyl that make the experience almost transcendent.

It starts with the tangibility of a full 12 inch album cover, coupled with the variety of booklets that often come layered with full page lyrics, glistening artwork, and band bios. Then there’s the feeling of reverence that overtakes you as you delicately slide the record from its sleeve and place it on the turntable.

After gently dropping the needle onto the track and setting it into motion, the faint scratches that accompany every record fill the speakers and your ears, and the soft humming of some Simon and Garfunkel track follows soon after. There’s something natural, organic and utterly human about the warmth of the sound vinyl provides. The drums, guitar, and bass are all perfectly separated and represented in their own right. And as you read through the lyrics of each track and the stories of the artist’s life, you begin to feel an even deeper connection to the music surrounding you. It’s beautiful, really.

It’s an experience that something like streaming just doesn’t provide. There’s no doubt that the portability, ease of use, and unlimited song choices streaming services bring are great. Of course it’s appealing, in any place and at any time you can grab a file from the cloud and play it. But that’s the root of the problem: songs have become just that, a file. And what vinyl does so well is give us a constant reminder that these songs aren’t just data on a computer. They are an art form, an expression of emotion that details the lives and hardships of an individual artist or band.

I’m not saying vinyl should take over streaming. It’s not practical; you can’t take it with you wherever you go. But this way of experiencing music should never be lost, because it does serve as a reminder of what music once was and is always supposed to be: an art.