When I was a kid I always enjoyed walking into my uncle's living room being awestruck by the enormous hi-fi sound and his massive collections of LPs and later CDs. He, at times, offered me to play what I like. Because I had no real clue about music back then, I just picked the ones with "interesting" cover art. I vividly remember picking Bauhaus' The Sky's Gone Out or King Crimson's In the Court of the Crimson King, totally alien music for me but quite the listening experience.
This kind of ceremonial setting and the work and care around it, is missing in the days of immediate availability under our impulsive fingertips and with it the disposition to take a good listen with a clear intention, with a beginning and an end. It seems that we are more or less offered to be drowned in music streams making it hard to discern, unable to recover with fresh/curious ears without taking breaks and the possibility to listen more sparingly.