Podcasting has become one of the most accessible and easy to produce pieces of media out there. A decent microphone, editing software, about anyone with acting chops could be pumping out the next big thing or indie darling in a matter of months, allowing the medium to be a constantly evolving and unpredictable wave of new content.

And the best part is that almost all of it is free. An entire series can be downloaded to your phone in mere minutes, granting you hours of entertainment no matter where you are. But despite such an easy gateway to entry that’s allowed podcasts to be a casual listening experience even for beginners, it’s certainly made things less glamorous, and by “less glamorous” I mean less physically tangible to the average collector.

As an avid anime fantastic and all-around media archivist obsessed with acquiring anything that has the word “limited edition” slapped on to it, I’ve definitely developed a taste for flashy packaging that represents my dedication to a brand or franchise-a statement that my loved ones and ailing bookshelves are depressingly self aware of.

In an alternative setting where digital distribution didn’t peak around the same time podcasting did, I’d like to imagine a time and place where collector’s editions, box sets, and prestigious, over the top displays of capitalistic conquest can be filling the digital halls of eBay bidding wars or the most niche of niche Twitter giveaways.

For a moment, I’d like to imagine a scenario where podcasts aren’t limited to phone apps, streaming services, or glitchy Tumblr audio uploads, but a strange combination of personalized works that truly embody the soul of the work they’re based on. 

1. Wolf 359 on Walkman

Invoking a certain Guardians of the Galaxy vibe, Wolf 359 on a Walkman just kinda fits that brand of grungy, underdog space fiction with an urban twist. The age of the Walkman was practically extinct by the time I was even a fetus but definitely something early-thirties Doug Eiffel would probably have laying around his cabinet drawers.

Nostalgia is a cruel mistress and perhaps the awkward fiddling and painfully unstylish headphones doesn’t quite fit everyone’s definition of old fashion coolness, but it’s an undeniably fitting one that fits the nature of the show a little too well. Bringing back what was once obsolete is something of a trend nowadays and maybe one day Sony could consider a brand deal for a customized line of Wolf 359 players and tapes for the new generation to enjoy.

2. The Infinite Now on Vinyl

I waxed poetically about the science fiction podcast THE INFINITE NOW, in my most recent review and mentioned briefly how it scratched this itch for aesthetic pleasantness, namely the uncharted territory of vinyl records. Though far past my generation, even farther than Walkmans for that matter, I can still see the value in the scratchy, authentic ambiance vinyls create. 

THE INFINITE NOW seems to borrow some inspiration from Pink Floyd’s “The Dark Side of the Moon” in terms of visuals and seeing its ominous pyramid painted a bright turquoise against a descending night background just screams 70’s to me. Imagine that on a vinyl sleeve and the mood speaks for itself.

3. Inkwyrm on CD

If there’s anything Inkwyrm reminds me of it’s an interesting combination of my feminine Y2K sensibilities pushed through the filter of a playful science fiction setting. As someone who lives and dies on their aesthetic, regardless of how impractical or unnecessary, I feel Inkwyrm would definitely feel the same about my pick.

Inkwyrm has the kind of sass that feels in place in The Devil’s War Prada or Mean Girls and there was just something about the reliance on CD players still being in full force with the budding popularity of IPods during the early 2000’s that really matches Inkwyrm’s pace.

Some cute cover art to grace the disc with and it would honestly be doing your underused car stereo a favor. Or, if you really want to get stuck in the 2000’s, a full blown boombox baring the podcast’s insignia. 

And in terms of alphabetical order, they’d be bumping shoulders with Ingrid Michaelson in the music store so at least they’d be in good company. Perhaps I’m projecting my own personal obsessions onto this, but they were the ones who decided to make a show about fashion in the first place. 

4. Brimstone Valley Mall on Virgin Records Listening Stations

Brimstone Valley Mall is definitely a show that has its general vibe figured out from the get-go and that vibe is that of gothic retail shenanigans that could only possibly be appreciated by the most authentic of mall window shoppers.

And if there’s anything that sparks to memory when listening to Brimstone Valley Mall it’s spending my adolescence visiting the Virgin Records in Southern California’s Ontario Mills and sampling CDs by this sort of special section along the right wall. 

Those at least twenty or up probably know what I’m talking about, the real draw of the store’s layout beyond the collection of colorful music paraphernalia, books, and pricy merchandise your mom wouldn’t let you buy.

Many a demo from the 2000’s was available here-She Wants Revenge, the Gorillaz second studio album, Demon Days, and somewhere between Avril Lavigene and Breaking Benjamin would be Brimstone Valley Mall with its wonderfully stylized cover art and an attitude that perfectly encapsulates the hey-day of the mall shopper.

This would also technically allow it the same position of CD with Inkwyrm by default-and I would never pass up the opportunity to have a Brimstone Valley poster or a tracklist with titles like “Goth as F*ck” and “Little Singing Monster Machines” gracing the back of a plastic case-but the real fans would be all over fully embracing the show’s 1999 atmosphere.

5. ROVER RED: Alone in The Apocalypse on Flash Drives

ROVER RED is the kind of audio drama experience that was gone too soon and perhaps executed too brilliantly to truly reach a conclusion right when a burning question was presented to the narrative. I suppose it already qualifies for its own special category of accessibility seeing as how you have to scurry over to their YouTube channel to get your fill of the episodes, but let’s take it a step further.

Befitting its uncomfortable, dystopian setting that’s an excellent blend of Ender’s Game, The Hunger Games, and Portal, there’s something in my head that keeps imagining a collection of flash drives to really get into the spirit of things. 

And not the kind found in your local Best Buy, but a number of password protected websites and a series of word and number puzzles that made the grind worth it. Maybe competitive online games of Pong to win a personalized EVIE laptop that would make Cortana reconsider her line of work. Overly complicated and contrived? Absolutely, but I’m sure the OTHERWHERE wouldn’t have it any other way.

The point here is that the options here are plenty: Hadron Gospel Hour via an outdated model of Windows software, The Bright Sessions stored on those cards that play audio whenever you open them-it’s all about living and dying on the aesthetic which is something I personally find nothing but endless satisfaction in.

Impractical, yes, but I’m sure someone somewhere once thought the whole radio audio drama thing wasn’t really going to take off either.

Related posts:

15 Audio Drama Podcasts to Get You Hooked on Fiction I Finally Made the Switch from Apple Podcasts App to Overcast Limetown adaptation brings thrills and confusion
Tags