Some thoughts on community, curation, and why indie writing matters more than ever

My dad’s last job was in what we would today call “IT.” For a while, he was on the hardware side, and our garage was full of boxes from long-lost brands like Leading Edge. While on the software side, we got to see games that today seem primitive, but back then seemed revolutionary.
LOGO? Sure, laugh now, but man, that turtle was f’ing something. Ditto the original Oregon Trail game—who knew dying of dysentery could be fun? For a minute, we had an Apple IIe. This also coincided exactly with how long I was cool at school. I’m sure it was a coincidence. His final project before he passed was a program that pulled together your frequent flier miles, applied each airline’s award rules, and showed how close you were to any given redemption—so you could book your next trip with whatever carrier made the most sense. Today, we’d call that an app, and probably one you’d learn to build in a 200-level class.
That idea—aggregating value across fragmented systems so people can make better choices—has stayed with me. Because in a small, non-technical way, that’s what this project is trying to do too.
It’s a miracle, this internet. For as much as words like doomscrolling and digital decay have now become regular parts of the discourse, nothing else has done more to slip the surly bonds of geography and let people find one another around shared interests, values, and obsessions. Yes, it’s often weaponized, but it’s just as frequently used as a force for good—whether that’s organizing pro-democracy rallies or yapping about records. All of it would look like science fiction to people just a few short years ago.
This time of year is flooded with lookbacks and lists, but if you’ll indulge me for a second, I wanted to take one last glance before we start looking ahead this Saturday.
This community continues to grow in new and exciting ways. Its success is due to readers like you. Thank you for making it what it is. Thank you for sharing it on social media and with your friends and family. If you’re sharing it with your enemies, well, thanks for that, too.
Whether you’ve been here since Day 1, just recently showed up, or this is the first post of mine you’ve ever read, I’m glad you’re here. And if you’re up at 7 AM on New Year’s Day? More power to you!
Some red meat for the data wonks:
Because of your recommendations, On Repeat Records is read in 48 states (2024 resolution: get North Dakota and Wyoming on board; 2025 resolution: try again; 2026: third time’s a charm?!) and 71 countries worldwide. There are a lot more of us here than there were a year ago at this time, but the vibe still seems to be “the coolest dinner party you’ve ever been to.” One 2026 goal: keep that goin’. These missives land in inboxes as close as literally just down the block and as far away as New Zealand. That never ceases to amaze me and is incredibly humbling.
The numbers are interesting and prove there is an appetite for sharing the music we love with people, subverting algorithms, and supporting indie music journalism. Metrics are fun to discuss, but wouldn’t mean much without engagement.
The conversations—especially the ones in the comment sections that go far off into the weeds—are a highlight of every week. Same with the stories you share directly with me. I appreciate the feedback and love hearing the role certain records have played in your life. I read every one and try to respond as quickly as possible. That door is always open. Please use it.
This was also the year that I finally got hit with a few “stick to music” responses and performative unsubscribes. So be it. It’s a reminder that there are people on both sides of the glass. Most folks are here for hot takes on cool records, but once in a while, there will be a wildcard essay from a middle-aged guy trying to make sense of the world around him (spoiler: that guy is me).
Rather than list everything month by month, here are a few moments that felt representative of the year:
- A piece that started as a story about seeing a band before it was too late and turned into a birthday card for my best friend.
- A bit of a rant on health care in the US that caught Chappell Roan in the crossfire, and how the allure of specific industries is used to exploit people.
- A eulogy for Roberta Flack—how everything happens right when it’s supposed to, especially on a midweek afternoon in the early ’90s, in a spot at least a zip code away from anything cool.
- Writing about tribal identity, teams, community, and the joy of showing up for things bigger than yourself.
- We took a rocket into space and got a chance to chat with Gelli Haha, among others.
- Cool people doing cool shit? Yes please! This place is bursting with incredible talent. And I’m 110% here for it. This list barely scratches the surface. We’ll be doubling down on that in ’26.
Through it all, the throughline was community.
We don’t do ads or sponsored content here. There is no media team or marketing, either. It’s just Gizmo and me spreading the word about good records (and warning you away from bad ones).
That only works because of reader support. Paid supporters have full access to the entire archive, but more importantly, that revenue is the jet fuel that keeps this project in the air. Your support, shares, and recommendations all make an immediate, positive impact and keep this place independent.
I also want to again thank every guest writer, collaborator, and co-conspirator from the past year. If you recognize yourself in that sentence, thank you for trusting me with your work. And to the few of you I got to meet in real life, know that those moments were genuine high points of the year. More of that in ’26, please!
We’ve talked about a lot of records and covered a lot of ground. I hope you’ve found a new favorite or two, and a new favorite spot on the internet. Life’s better with records in it and people to share ’em with.
2025 was a meaningful year for On Repeat Records, and 2026 is already looking bright. Thanks for being a part of it.
Onward!
KA—
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