The Optimism of 90s Design

In the 1990s, there was little time for nostalgia and in terms of technology it was a decade defined by optimism. Technology felt light, and design reflected that. The iMac G3 with its translucent hardware was almost a sign of the times: bright colors, playful forms, and a sense that the future of tech was open, exciting, full of possibilities. You chose what to listen to, what to watch, how to spend your time. Today, that feeling stands in sharp contrast to how digital life feels.

For more than a decade, social media seemed inevitable. But platforms that once promised connection now feel like systems built for extraction. Our attention, data, and creativity are all captured and monetised. The average attention span of a digital consumer has declined by 33% since 2015 (!). 

Listening sessions, vinyl, and the return of the iPod

This change from open, user-controlled digital experiences to platforms designed to capture and monetize attention is becoming very visible in music culture. Listening sessions in record stores are back, mostly among Gen Z and Millennials, where people gather to hear an album together, from start to finish. At the same time, vinyl sales are growing again. Nearly 20% of Dutch people recently purchased physical music. It is most popular among young people aged 15 to 17, with 28% buying a vinyl record or CD. And even the iPod is making a quiet return.

As described in a recent opinion piece, young people are buying iPods because their smartphones have taken something away from them, even if they cannot fully name it. Streaming platforms have changed listening behavior and algorithms decide what comes next. Taste becomes something you confirm, rather than something you build.

Over time, this reduces agency. Millions of people listen to the same playlists, at the same time of day. What feels like endless choice often leads to sameness, while the appeal of vinyl and listening sessions lies in the opposite. In a world of infinite access, choosing less becomes meaningful. These in-person events offer an alternative that demands time and attention and, crucially, fosters community.

Technofeudalism

There is growing discomfort with how digital platforms operate. The concept of technofeudalism, coined by economist Yanis Varoufakis, captures this feeling well. A small number of powerful players own the infrastructure, while users provide the labor in the form of content, attention, and data.

At first, this system did not feel problematic, but as platforms became more toxic,  addictive, and more commercially driven, the imbalance became harder to ignore. 

In response, people are moving toward smaller, more private spaces: group chats, niche communities, offline moments. 53% of Gen Z/Millennials are spending more time offline so they can be more present in their life (vs. 44% Gen X). It is also worth naming something that often goes unsaid: spending time offline is a luxury and not everyone can afford to disengage. We are already seeing a growing disparity between those who rely on algorithms for income and survival, and a minority who can afford to step away from them, or profit from doing so.

Coming together through music

Music has always been a powerful connector, and it always will be. Listening sessions are about presence and being in a room together, sharing a focused experience. The same goes for vinyl. It slows you down, but it also shows that people want to experience music in different ways; they don’t want to depend on just one digital format. It is also a desire to reclaim control and to experience culture in an intentional way.

Vinyl can be enjoyed alone as well, echoing its long-standing cultural roots in Japanese kissaten which are intimate listening cafés where people would sit quietly and listen to records with full attention. Also think of other analogue music formats making a return, such as tapes and CDs.

As these behaviours grow, they begin to shape the environments and experiences people seek out. This is where brands come in. Instead of just selling products, they are starting to create spaces and moments that reflect this renewed focus on attention and presence. With names like Stone Island and Louis Vuitton, but also spaces like Spiritland, which are built around music and the listening experience, which has been rising in popularity for a while now. 

What does it mean for brands when people return to slower, more intentional ways of experiencing music and the world around them?