Returning to the Album Era; or, my music habits in 2026
To set up 2026 to be a good year, I'll start with something fun. I've written a few posts on how the latter part of my 2025 involved exploring different genres of music. It's done wonders for my mental health, given me something to look forward to during my downtime (it's better than doom-scrolling), and reframed my relationship with art in an increasingly algorithm-driven world.
The only real downside is I've been wandering in my approach. This has resulted in great discoveries, but compared to how immersed I was in my previous habits—the ones that allowed me to really appreciate a work—I feel shallow.
So, for 2026 I want to set some parameters so that I sustain my enjoyment of music while reducing haste. There's a middle ground between staying within my musical comfort zone and traversing new territories. To reach it, I'm going to:
Listen to music through a dedicated device: a repurposed 1st-gen iPhone SE with foobar2000, Bandcamp, and the DKFM app installed. It functions with both headphones (it still has a headphone jack!) and my Bluetooth speaker. This means no YouTube and no streaming (conditions that are part of my larger scheme of being more intentional with technology and tools—more on this in a future post).
Have five albums that will always be accessible on the device. Inspired by the concept from Desert Island Discs, these are essentially my favourite albums to date. They form the staples of what I've come to enjoy.
The album format is key here, as it represents resistance against modern streaming and its tendency to fragment the works of artists to construct algorithm-based playlists. Don't get me wrong: it's a great mechanism when one knows the sound they like. However, this reinforces one's status quo and can hinder exploration. I've come to appreciate that musicians have a vision for their albums, as a tradition from the past. Focusing on albums makes it fun to track the discography of an artist or a band, and it makes reading about them on Wikipedia and in discussion forums enjoyable (wow, I really am stuck in the 2000s, huh?).
- Have, on a weekly rotation, three albums grouped by artist/band or genre. This is where novelty comes in. While I have my reliable five to fall back on, I'll explore new works with a creative constraint. Three albums a week (with no repeats!), based on my daily music-listening habits, seem reasonable. If my picks are weak, then I minimize over-exposure and boredom. If my picks are strong, then I can spend a decent amount of time immersed. (At the time of writing, I have a backlog of albums set for rotation. To maintain a queue for exploration, I'll rely on Bandcamp and DKFM for discovery; foobar2000 will be my main app for listening.)
The final benefit? At the psychological/neurological/emotional level, there's something to be said about measured novelty. They say that one can slow down cognitive aging by diversifying one's experiences . If every week of my 2026 ends up being associated with a particular soundtrack (because I have every intent of writing about that which brings me joy), then I am in a way giving each week a unique sense of significance. So much of 2025 passed by me like a blur; to regain some sense of footing in my life, I am using music to ground me.
To be clear, this is an experiment for 2026. The "no repeats" rule is meant to force expansiveness and to develop appreciation, but I'll be noting the albums I want to return to afterwards. This exercise strives to balance breadth of exploration and depth of experience. May my life be long and always involved with music!
In case you, dear reader, were wondering what my mainstay albums are, they remain undetermined. I have the rest of December to decide. Discretion is the better part of valour, for if I'm keeping five albums around while I theoretically explore 156 others, I have to make them count!