The first record I bought with my savings was Discovery by Electric Light Orchestra, from 1979. I bought it at Sears. I still remember the cover, the jacket with the lyrics on it, and the picture of the Arab boy running away from thieves after stealing the ELO flying saucer. But other senses also intervened: the smell, cellophane’s aroma, the texture of cardboard, paper, and vinyl. The secret of vinyl records lies in the senses, in the way we related with the object and its art. The touch which, as I remember, as a young boy having slept with a 45 RPM containing the musical tale of Peter and the Wolf between my hands. The feeling that the story was mine as many times as I wanted and with the magic of a wonderful box that extracted all its secrets, and which my alchemist father knew how to operate as many times as I asked. We enjoy our mother’s voice and the comforting feeling of sucking on our thumb since the moment we are inside the womb. The same thing happens with the right size of the 33RPM record. The covers, the concept could be admired as contemporary art pieces, thanks to the fact that Alex Steinweiss turned, in 1938, into the father of this concept by adding light and color to the boring and almost anonymous packages.