The soundtrack to my earliest memories. From living in Seattle, to Waterbury, to Hamden. You know how audiophiles take pristine care of their vinyl, holding it by the edges, dusting, being oh so gentle as they lower the needle? My Mom is the opposite. I remember the needle bouncing on The Magical Mystery Tour when it would hit specks of white paint. Records were usually stacked five high on the player and in piles next to it. House cleaning included dusting the records.
Buying GYBR on CD was a revelation. In fact, listening to all of the music of my childhood again on CD was a revelation.