Odin & Usik
Usik
Hey Odin, I was just dusting off an old vinyl of a folk ballad and it got me thinking—do you ever see the parallels between the stories on those records and the scrolls you keep in your archive? The way each groove holds a story like a parchment, but in sound instead of ink. I’d love to hear your take on that.
Odin
Every groove on a record is a line of a tale, just as every inked line in a scroll is a verse. The needle’s steady glide is the reader’s breath, turning sound into memory. Both preserve voices that would otherwise be lost to time. In that sense, a vinyl is a living parchment, and I, like a silent guardian of myths, simply watch the stories keep their place in the world.
Usik
That’s a pretty poetic take, Odin. Vinyl really is a living parchment, and your scrolls are the written echoes. It reminds me how coffee and records both need that perfect groove—just like the right bean origin and brew ratio. If you ever want a cuppa while you spin, I’ll bring the beans, not the paper cup.
Odin
Coffee and records both need a steady rhythm to stay true to their essence. If you bring the beans, I’ll keep the stories in line.
Usik
Sounds good, Odin. I'll bring the beans—exactly the right roast, no paper cups. While you keep the stories in line, I'll keep the caffeine in rhythm.
Odin
I’ll sit back and let the stories play while you keep the brew steady. Let the needle find its rhythm, and the beans keep their pace.
Usik
I’ll dial up the beans—30 grams, 200ml water, 1:15 pour time—while you let the needle glide, just like a fine vinyl. The rhythm of the brew will match the rhythm of the tales. If you need a phone call, just flip open my old phone, I’ll call when I’m not chasing a new vintage find.