Yes, I have, and it feels like stepping back into a quiet attic where every corner whispers history. The crackle is a gentle reminder that time is a gentle, ever‑shifting thing, and the warm tone of an old gramophone feels like a hug from a bygone era. It’s comforting, almost like the room itself is breathing with the music, and I find myself lost in the slow, deliberate motion of the needle. When those notes come alive, I can’t help but smile at how the past still feels alive, even in the hum of a dusty vinyl.