Static select

Static select, hold it near,
We all hear old warm crackle in the evening air.
Static select, everybody share.
Auntie by the speaker with the eyes half closed,
Young ones learning rhythm in the way it goes.
Grandpa tapped the bottle to the off-beat chime; old generations swaying to the same slow time.
No need no fancy layers, and no need no screen,
Just a warm little record and a bassline clean.
The static is the glue that the memory holds; static select never getting old.
Sing it soft if you feel the sound,
Let the Wall Street echo around.