Alex: Vinyl means living sound. It means a world on a platter. It means being sung to, instead of listening to a stranger sing into a strange microphone in a strange place full of strangers to you. It means little blobs of sound bouncing around, happy to be alive and feel the notes they carry in every corner of their atomic being, instead of binary code 0- and 1-ing into infinity and beyond on the flattest of flat lines. It means a full (vegetarian) roast dinner, with all the trimmings, instead of a Pot Noodle, beans and Smash. It means something that is ostensibly round, but actually takes the shape of whatever room you happen to play it in. Vinyl is the solid that is liquid. It is fluid, it is fresh, it is just as necessary now as it ever was, it is vital, it is revitalising, it is all-encompassing. Vinyl means the impossible, it is the grandfather that will outlive all of his successive generations. It is immortal, it is impossible, it is infinite, innate and intrinsic to us all. Vinyl is the sound of our lives, what they were, what they are, what they will be and what we wished they would turn into. Vinyl is you, and it is me. Vinyl is humanity, goodness and hope. Vinyl is the universe you can take home.