My dopamine menu might change seasonally, but the one aspect that will always remain a constant is a lounging listening session with a comfort album of my choice whistling through my home. Famously ...

My LPs have ended up in the basement. After 50-plus years of being played — albeit, increasingly infrequently — they’re a small, melancholy step away from the used record shop. It’s a familiar tale: ...

If you collect records for, say, a half-century or so, people will ask you questions (some of them brilliant; others kind of dumb) about your hobby. And if you’re a record collector who also happens ...