For my birthday this year, my girlfriends - who knew I’d just inherited my dad’s turntable - gave me a carton of albums like ’Blue Kentucky Girl ’ by Emmylou Harris, and ’Off the Wall ’ by Michael Jackson. It’s all stuff we grew up with. I mean, you can’t have a music collection without Prince’s ’Purple Rain’ - it just can’t be done!

Britton frames music as both inheritance and identity: a literal legacy (her father’s turntable) becomes a way to reconnect with formative sounds shared with friends. The specific albums—Emmylou Harris, Michael Jackson, and especially Prince—signal a cross-genre, late-20th-century canon that many listeners treat as cultural touchstones. Her emphatic claim about “Purple Rain” reads less like objective criticism than a statement about communal memory and the idea of a “basic” collection: some records function as rites of passage, anchoring nostalgia, taste, and belonging. The quote also highlights how physical media (albums) can carry emotional weight beyond streaming-era convenience.