The contrast between Sunday night at a concert and Monday morning at your desk is brutal. One moment you’re lost in the music, feeling every guitar riff vibrate through your chest. The next, you’re answering emails and pretending last night’s euphoria wasn’t real. The transition back to routine work feels especially cruel when the weekend gave you a taste of something electric.
That’s where a little whimsy helps. These 3D-printed guitar amp pen holders from LionsPrint bring a fragment of that musical energy to your workspace. They’re compact at 3.5 inches per side, but the details are spot-on: authentic speaker grilles, control panels, and designs inspired by the amplifiers that power actual rock shows. You can personalize them with custom text in silver or gold. They won’t replace the thrill of live music, but they’re a small reminder that the mundane is just temporary.
Designer: LionsPrint
The thing about good desk accessories is they need to justify their existence beyond pure function. A pen holder is essentially a container with holes. You could use a coffee mug. But LionsPrint clearly understood that musicians and music fans have a specific relationship with amplifiers that goes beyond their utility. These aren’t random music references slapped onto office supplies. They’re recognizable silhouettes: Marshall stacks with their iconic script logo, Fender’s clean lines, Yamaha’s distinctive branding. The 3D printing allows for texture work that would be impossible with traditional manufacturing. Those speaker grilles have depth and pattern variation that catches light differently depending on angle.
At 3.5 x 3.5 x 3.5 inches, the dimensions work perfectly for standard desk real estate. Small enough that they don’t dominate your workspace, large enough that they actually hold a functional amount of pens, scissors, and whatever other tools accumulate throughout a workday. The cube format keeps them stable. No tipping over when you’re fishing for a specific marker at 2 AM during a deadline crunch.
The customization option elevates these beyond typical musician merch. You can add text in metallic silver or gold finishes, which means your studio name, your band’s logo, or even an inside joke with your bandmates can live on your desk. Most “gifts for guitarists” feel like afterthoughts, designed by people who think all musicians are the same. This actually lets you claim ownership of the aesthetic instead of just passively receiving someone else’s idea of what music fans want.
LionsPrint sells these through Etsy starting at $19.98 USD before shipping. The price sits in that sweet spot where it’s low enough to impulse buy after a particularly soul-crushing Monday, but high enough that the 3D printing quality actually delivers on the details. You pick your amp style, add your custom text if you want it, and suddenly your desk has at least one object that doesn’t make you question your life choices. Small victories count when you’re counting down to the weekend.
Spotify is rolling out a feature called About the Song which lets fans learn a bit more about their favorite tunes. This "brings stories and context" into the listening experience, sort of like that old VH1 show Pop Up Video.
How does it work? The Now Playing View houses short, swipeable story cards that "explore the meaning" behind the music. This information is sourced from third parties and the company promises "interesting details and behind-the-scenes moments." All you have to do is scroll down until you see the card and then swipe.
This is rolling out right now to Premium users on both iOS and Android, but it's not everywhere just yet. The beta tool is currently available in the US, UK, Canada, Ireland, New Zealand and Australia.
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/audio/spotify-now-lets-you-swipe-on-songs-to-learn-more-about-them-164558366.html?src=rss
Grammy winner Bad Bunny, seen here accepting his award for Best Música Urbana Album for “Un Verano Sin Ti” in 2023, is nominated again this year. (Timothy Norris/FilmMagic)
Timothy Norris via Getty Images
The 2026 Grammy Awards honor music's biggest achievements of the year, and some of the biggest stars on the planet are nominated this year. Kendrick Lamar leads the way with nine nominations, including for Record and Song of the Year for "luther," his collaboration with SZA. Other top nominees this year include Lady Gaga, Jack Antonoff, and Cirkut with seven nominations apiece, and Bad Bunny, Sabrina Carpenter, and Leon Thomas, who have six. The 2026 Grammy Awards will be hosted by comedian Trevor Noah, who also happens to be a nominee this year in the Best Audio Book, Narration & Storytelling category.
The 2026 Grammys will take place at Crypto.com Arena in Los Angeles, and the broadcast will air this Sunday, Feb. 1, at 8PM ET/5PM PT on CBS, streaming live on Paramount+ (for Premium subscribers only). The 2026 Grammy Awards Premiere Ceremony — where the majority of the Grammys are actually awarded — will take place earlier that same day, from 3:30PM ET/12:30PM PT, and streams live free on YouTube.
Here’s how to watch the 2026 Grammy Awards live this Sunday.
When are the 2026 Grammy Awards?
The 68th Grammy Awards will be held this Sunday, Feb. 1, 2026.
Grammys start time
The Grammy Awards live TV broadcast begins at 8PM ET/5PM PT. It's scheduled to run until 11:30PM ET.
Prior to the main broadcast, the 2026 Grammy Awards Premiere Ceremony (this is where you can watch the awards for categories like Musical Theater, Americana, Reggae, Metal, Gospel and more) will take place from 3:30PM ET/12:30PM PT. The Grammys Premiere Ceremony will stream live for free at live.GRAMMY.com and on YouTube.
Grammy Awards TV channel
The 68th Grammy Awards will air on CBS and stream live on Paramount+ for Premium subscribers. The awards show will also be available the following day on demand for Paramount+ Essential subscribers.
How to watch the Grammys without cable
How to watch the 2026 Grammys free
Who is performing at the 2026 Grammy Awards?
Among this year's Grammy's performers are Justin Bieber, Sabrina Carpenter, Album of the Year nominees Clipse and Pharrell Williams, and every Best New Artist nominee, including Addison Rae, Alex Warren, KATSEYE, Leon Thomas, Lola Young, Olivia Dean, SOMBR, and The Marías.
This year's In Memorium honoring artists we've lost this year will include a musical tribute from Reba McEntire, Brandy Clark and Lukas Nelson, a performance from Ms. Lauryn Hill in honor of D'Angelo and Roberta Flack, and an Ozzy Osbourne tribute from artists like Post Malone, Andrew Watt, Chad Smith, Duff McKagan, and Slash.
Who is hosting the Grammys this year?
Trevor Noah will return to host the Grammys for the sixth and final year.
Who is presenting at the 2026 Grammys?
While the full list of Grammys presenters has yet to be released, we do know that Harry Styles and Doechii will be presenting.
Grammy Awards new categories
This year’s Grammys will see the return of the award for Best Album Cover (after 53 years!). This year, the category of Best Country Album will now be split into two awards: Best Contemporary Country Album and Best Traditional Country Album.
Grammys eligibility window
The 2026 Grammy Awards will recognize music released from August 31, 2024 to August 30, 2025.
2026 Grammy nominations
Here are the nominees for the 68th Grammy Awards.
Album of the Year
Bad Bunny — Debí Tirar Más Fotos
Justin Bieber — Swag
Sabrina Carpenter — Man’s Best Friend
Clipse, Pusha T & Malice — Let God Sort Em Out
Lady Gaga — Mayhem
Kendrick Lamar — GNX
Leon Thomas — Mutt
Tyler, the Creator — Chromakopia
Record of the Year
Bad Bunny — “DtMF”
Sabrina Carpenter — “Manchild”
Doechii — “Anxiety”
Billie Eilish — “Wildflower”
Lady Gaga — “Abracadabra”
Kendrick Lamar feat. SZA — “Luther”
Chappell Roan — “The Subway”
Song of the Year
Lady Gaga — “Abracadabra”
Doechii — “Anxiety”
ROSÉ & Bruno Mars — “APT.”
Bad Bunny — “DtMF”
HUNTR/X (EJAE, Audrey Nuna, REI AMI) — “Golden”
Kendrick Lamar feat. SZA — “Luther”
Sabrina Carpenter — “Manchild”
Billie Eilish — “Wildflower”
Best New Artist
Olivia Dean
KATSEYE
The Marías
Addison Rae
sombr
Leon Thomas
Alex Warren
Lola Young
Best Pop Solo Performance
Justin Bieber — “Daisies”
Sabrina Carpenter — “Manchild”
Lady Gaga — “Disease”
Chappell Roan — “The Subway”
Lola Young — “Messy”
Best Pop Vocal Album
Justin Bieber — Swag
Sabrina Carpenter — Man’s Best Friend
Miley Cyrus — Something Beautiful
Lady Gaga — Mayhem
Teddy Swims — I’ve Tried Everything But Therapy (Part 2)
Best Alternative Music Album
Bon Iver — Sable, Fable
The Cure — Songs of a Lost World
Tyler, the Creator — Don’t Tap the Glass
Wet Leg — Moisturizer
Hayley Williams — Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/entertainment/streaming/how-to-watch-the-2026-grammy-awards-tv-channel-start-time-where-to-stream-nominations-list-and-more-150015179.html?src=rss
A group of music publishers led by Concord Music Group and Universal Music Group are suing Anthropic, according to a report by Reuters. The suit accuses the AI company of illegally downloading more than 20,000 copyrighted songs, including sheet music, lyrics and compositions.
These songs were then allegedly fed into the chatbot Claude for training purposes. There are some iconic tunes named by Universal in the suit, including tracks by The Rolling Stones, Neil Diamond and Elton John, among many others. Concord is an independent publisher that handles artists like Common, Killer Mike and Korn.
The publishers issued a statement saying that the damages could amount to more than $3 billion. This would make it one of the largest non-class action copyright cases in US history.
"While Anthropic misleadingly claims to be an AI 'safety and research' company, its record of illegal torrenting of copyrighted works makes clear that its multibillion-dollar business empire has in fact been built on piracy," the lawsuit says.
For the unfamiliar, the Bartz v. Anthropic case ended with an award of $1.5 billion to impacted writers after it was found that the company had illegally downloaded their published works for similar training purposes. The terms of that agreement dictated that the 500,000 authors involved in the case would get $3,000 per work. The $1.5 billion looks like a big number, but not so much when broken down like that. Also, Anthropic is worth around $350 billion.
In the Bartz case, Judge William Alsup ruled that it was legal for Anthropic to train its models on copyrighted content but not legal to acquire that content via piracy. We'll have to wait and see how this new suit shakes out. The legal precedent here seems to suggest that if Anthropic would have just spent a buck on each copyrighted song, then they'd be in the clear. That's an odd distinction when it comes to building an entire company around snatching up copyrighted content, but whatever.
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/ai/music-publishers-sue-anthropic-for-3-billion-over-flagrant-piracy-185459358.html?src=rss
The T.M-4 looks like it escaped from Teenage Engineering’s design studio with a specific mission: teach beginners how to make music using AI without making them feel stupid, or without creating slop. Junho Park’s graduation concept borrows all the right cues from TE’s playbook, that modular control layout, the single bold color, the mix of knobs and buttons that practically beg to be touched, but redirects them toward a gap in the market. Where Teenage Engineering designs for people who already understand synthesis and sampling, the T.M-4 targets people who have ideas but no vocabulary to express them. The device handles the technical translation automatically, separating audio into layers and letting you manipulate them through physical controls. It feels like someone took the OP-1’s attitude and wired it straight into an AI stem separator.
The homage succeeds because Park absorbed what makes Teenage Engineering products special beyond their appearance. TE hardware feels different because it removes friction between intention and result, making complex technology feel approachable through thoughtful interface design and immediate tactile feedback. The T.M-4 brings that same thinking to AI music generation. You’re manipulating machine learning model parameters when you adjust texture, energy, complexity, and brightness, but the physical controls make it feel like direct manipulation of sound rather than abstract technical adjustment. An SD card system lets you swap AI personalities like you would game CDs from a gaming console – something very hardware, very tactile, very TE. Instead of drowning in model settings, you collect cards that give the AI different characters, making experimentation feel natural rather than intimidating.
Designer: Junho Park
What makes this cool is how it attacks the exact point where most beginners give up. Think about the first time you tried to remix a track and realized you had no clean drums, no isolated vocals, nothing you could really move around without wrecking the whole thing. Here, you feed audio in through USB-C, a mic, AUX, or MIDI, and the system just splits it into drum, bass, melody, and FX layers for you. No plugins, no routing, no YouTube rabbit hole about spectral editing. Suddenly you are not wrestling with the file, you are deciding what you want the bass to do while the rest of the track keeps breathing.
The joystick and grid display combo help simplify what would otherwise be a fairly daunting piece of gear. Instead of staring at a dense DAW timeline, you get a grid of dots that represent sections and layers, and you move through them like you are playing with a handheld console. That mental reframe matters. It turns editing into navigation, which is far less intimidating than “production.” Tie that to four core parameters, texture, energy, complexity, brightness, and you get a system that quietly teaches beginners how sound behaves without ever calling it a lesson. You hear the track get busier as you push complexity, you feel the mood shift when you drag energy down, and your brain starts building a map.
Picture it sitting next to a laptop and a cheap MIDI keyboard, acting as a hardware front end for whatever AI engine lives on the computer. You sample from your phone, your synth, a YouTube rip, whatever, then sculpt the layers on the T.M-4 before dumping them into a DAW. It becomes a sort of AI sketchpad, a place where ideas get roughed out physically before you fine tune them digitally. That hybrid workflow is where a lot of music tech is quietly drifting anyway, and this concept leans straight into it.
Of course, as a student project, it dodges the questions about latency, model size, and whether this thing would melt without an external GPU. But as a piece of design thinking, it lands. It treats AI as an invisible assistant, not the star of the show, and gives the spotlight back to the interface and the person poking at it. If someone like Teenage Engineering, or honestly any brave mid-tier hardware company, picked up this idea and pushed it into production, you would suddenly have a very different kind of beginner tool on the market. Less “click here to generate a track,” more “here, touch this, hear what happens, keep going.”
On first glance, Korg’s Phase8 looks like something Love Hultén might have dreamt up after a late night with a kalimba and a soldering iron. It has that same altar like presence, where every screw and surface feels intentional, and the exposed steel bars read more like a kinetic sculpture than a row of notes. You do not just see an instrument, you see a machine that wants to be played, prodded, and prepared with whatever objects are lying around your studio.
The result is a tabletop artifact that feels half lab instrument, half folk relic. Phase8 invites the same sort of ritualistic interaction Hultén builds into his one off consoles and synth shrines. You can sequence it like a modern groovebox, but it really comes alive when your hands, a pencil, or even a river stone start interfering with those vibrating tines.
Designer: Korg
This whole thing runs on what Korg is calling “Acoustic Synthesis,” which is a fancy way of saying it hits stuff. Under each of those eight steel resonators sits an electromagnetic hammer that physically strikes the bar when triggered. A capacitive pickup then captures the resulting acoustic vibration and sends it back into the synth engine for shaping. It is a completely different path from the usual oscillator-filter-amp chain. The entire unit weighs a solid 1.71kg and measures just 231mm wide, giving it the dense, purposeful feel of a piece of lab equipment, not a lightweight music toy.
That physical interaction model is the entire point. Korg explicitly tells you to pluck, mute, and strum the resonators. They even encourage placing found objects on them to create new textures. An “AIR” slider on the side lets you boost or dampen the raw acoustic response, effectively mixing between the pure electronic signal and the sound of the physical object vibrating in the room. This haptic approach is a clever rebellion against the menu-diving and screen-staring that defines so much modern gear. It demands your physical attention.
Of course, this is a Tatsuya Takahashi project, so the experimental nature is backed by serious engineering. It has a polymetric sequencer, full MIDI and USB-C implementation, and even CV input for talking to modular rigs. At $1,150, it is not an impulse buy, but it also signals that Korg sees this as a proper studio centerpiece. They built an instrument that feels alive because, in a very real sense, its sound generation depends on physical, vibrating matter.
AI music tools usually start on a laptop where you type a prompt and wait for a track. That workflow feels distant from how bands write songs, trading groove and chemistry for text boxes and genre presets. MUSE asks what AI music looks like if it starts from playing instead of typing, treating the machine as a bandmate that listens and responds rather than a generator you feed instructions.
MUSE is a next-generation AI music module system designed for band musicians. It is not one box but a family of modules, vocal, drum, bass, synthesizer, and electric guitar, each tuned to a specific role. You feed each one ideas the way you would feed a bandmate, and the AI responds in real time, filling out parts and suggesting directions that match what you just played.
A band rehearsal where each member has their own module means the drummer taps patterns into the drum unit, the bassist works with the bass module to explore grooves, and the singer hums into the vocal module to spin melodies out of half-formed ideas. Instead of staring at a screen, everyone is still moving and reacting, but there is an extra layer of AI quietly proposing fills, variations, and harmonies.
MUSE is built around the idea that timing, touch, and phrasing carry information that text prompts miss. Tapping rhythms, humming lines, or strumming chords lets the system pick up on groove and style, not just genre labels. Those nuances feed the AI’s creative process, so what comes back feels more like an extension of your playing than a generic backing track cobbled together from preset patterns.
The modules can be scattered around a home rather than living in a studio. One unit near the bed for late-night vocal ideas, another by the desk for quick guitar riffs between emails, a drum module on the coffee table for couch jams. Because they look like small colorful objects rather than studio gear, they can stay out, ready to catch ideas without turning the house into a control room.
Each module’s color and texture match its role: a plush vocal unit, punchy drum block, bright synth puck, making them easy to grab and easy to live with. They read more like playful home objects than intimidating equipment, which lowers the barrier to experimenting. Picking one up becomes a small ritual, a way to nudge yourself into making sound instead of scrolling or staring at blank sessions.
MUSE began with the question of how creators can embrace AI without losing their identity. The answer it proposes is to keep the musician’s body and timing at the center, letting AI listen and respond rather than dictate. It treats AI as a bandmate that learns your groove over time, not a replacement, and that shift might be what keeps humans in the loop as the tools get smarter.
One thing that the world has been learning the past few years is that people deal with grief differently. That’s why we can never judge how people react to death of loved ones, beloved pets, other living creatures, and even life changes. Artists and creative people in particular sometimes have profound ways of honoring whatever it is that they have lost.
When a 65-year-old oak tree in Steve Parker’s front yard died from a fungal disease called oak wilt, he wanted to create a tribute to this tree that served as a refuge for migratory birds in their area. What he created was a sound sculpture, a record player that could play actual discs with bird songs, a fitting honor to the life and legacy of the tree.
Parker cut the trunk of the diseased tree into “wood cookies” or cross-sectional slices. He then carved grooves directly into the discs to create playable records. He then built a victrola or record player that is specifically designed to play the wooden records. This player is placed on a pedestal and the round tree slices are displayed on the walls behind it.
What plays on the wooden records is equally special. He etched the songs of migratory birds that once nested in the oak tree. You hear a scratchy, wooden sound which actually reminds you of that branch that would hit the side of an old farm house, which can be nostalgic or creepy depending on your experience of it.
Creating these wooden records wasn’t easy. Live oak is notoriously difficult to work with because it cracks as it dries, and many woodworkers avoid it entirely. But Parker saw those imperfections as part of the piece’s authenticity. Those cracks and warps in the sound aren’t flaws, they’re features that honor the tree’s natural character even in death.
But the wooden records are only part of “Funeral for a Tree.” Parker also created a companion sculpture called “Sheng Shrine”: a plant-like, valve-driven instrument built from salvaged brass valves from euphoniums and trumpets, copper tubing, and breathing bags. What makes this piece particularly moving is what animates it: CPAP machines and ventilators, the same medical equipment used to help people breathe when they’re ill.
These breathing machines give life to discarded Chinese shengs (mouth organs). The sheng is traditionally associated with the phoenix, and the word itself means life, voice, and sound in Mandarin. Parker collaborated with sheng virtuoso Jipo Yang, who interpreted the bird calls and performed short compositions around them. The sounds you hear include the clicks of tiny relays, the grunts of air pumps that almost sound like snores, and the wheezing as air pushes through the reeds. It’s mechanical yet deeply emotional.
There’s another layer to this work that makes it even more poignant. Parker realized that his grief for the tree echoed the loss of his father to cancer. Both were slow, inevitable declines where care could not prevent loss. When his father was really sick, Parker’s family monitored his breathing to assess his comfort and sense where his body was going. Those CPAP machines and ventilators in “Sheng Shrine” carry those memories. They’re devices associated with life support, transformed into instruments that give breath to dead instruments playing songs for a dead tree.
What makes “Funeral for a Tree” so powerful is that it’s not Steve Parker performing a requiem for the tree. It’s the tree performing its own memorial service. The wood itself becomes the instrument, the bird songs it once sheltered become the music, and the breath that once rustled through its leaves is replaced by mechanical breathing that keeps the dirge alive.
In transforming something most people would haul away as waste into a functioning musical instrument, Parker reminds us that grief doesn’t have to be silent or passive. Sometimes the most profound way to honor a loss is to let it speak for itself, to give it voice and breath and let it tell its own story. In doing so, he’s created something that transcends the personal: a meditation on memory, loss, and the ways we try to hold onto what’s gone.
Remember when technology felt magical instead of invisible? When gadgets had personality, and your favorite album came with artwork you could actually hold? The ’90s gave us tactile experiences that today’s sleek minimalism often forgets. Now, designers are bringing back the spirit of that era with products that blend nostalgic forms with modern capabilities. These aren’t dusty relics pulled from storage bins. They’re reimagined essentials that capture what made the ’90s special while delivering the performance we expect in 2026.
Millennials grew up straddling two worlds: an analog childhood and a digital adulthood. These seven products speak directly to that experience, offering familiar shapes and rituals wrapped in contemporary functionality. From music players that look like mixtapes to flame lamps crafted with instrument-making techniques, each piece proves that nostalgia and innovation make better partners than we realized. Whether you’re rebuilding your retro haven or just want technology that sparks joy instead of anxiety, these designs deliver that perfect balance.
1. Samsung AI OLED Cassette and Turntable
Samsung Display dropped two conversation starters at CES 2026 that blur the line between tech demo and actual product you’d want in your living room. The AI OLED Cassette takes the classic tape deck silhouette and transforms it into a smart speaker with two tiny 1.5-inch circular OLED displays sitting exactly where those spinning reels used to hypnotize you. The left screen handles playback controls while the right displays a digital waveform that dances with your music. Both screens respond to touch, so you can skip tracks or adjust settings without fumbling for your phone.
The Turntable goes bigger with a 13.4-inch circular OLED touchscreen that mimics an actual vinyl record player. This isn’t just about displaying album art. The screen becomes an ambient art piece, showing visuals that match your playlist’s mood. Picture hosting friends while your turntable displays swirling colors that sync with jazz or geometric patterns that pulse with electronic beats. The AI integration suggests new music based on what you play, learning your taste over time. These aren’t production models yet, but they showcase where display technology could take us when designers stop making everything a black rectangle.
What We Like
The cassette’s standalone functionality means you can discover and control music without an external device.
The touch-sensitive displays offer direct interaction that feels intuitive despite the retro packaging.
AI-powered recommendations built into the device eliminate the need for phone connectivity.
The turntable’s 13.4-inch display transforms any room into a visual experience.
Ambient visuals that match your music create an atmosphere impossible with traditional speakers.
These remain concept devices without confirmed production plans.
Pricing would likely put them in premium territory beyond typical smart speakers.
The cassette’s small 1.5-inch display might prove difficult for detailed control.
Relying on AI recommendations could frustrate users who prefer manual curation.
The turntable’s large circular display demands significant surface space.
Without physical media playback, purists might question calling it a turntable.
2. Harmony Flame Fireplace
Real fire indoors sounds risky until you see how this brass lamp handles it. Craftsmen who typically make musical instruments apply those same meticulous techniques to create a safe fireplace that fits on your dining table or patio. The brass box burns bioethanol, an eco-friendly fuel that produces actual flames without smoke, odor, or the mess of traditional fireplaces. Light reflects off the polished brass surface, creating shifting patterns as the flames dance. This turns functional lighting into moving art that changes throughout the evening.
The connection to musical instrument craftsmanship shows in the details. Each lamp gets hand-finished, ensuring the brass develops its signature warm glow. Bioethanol burns clean enough for indoor use while providing the psychological comfort of genuine fire. No installation means you can move it wherever the mood takes you. The flame’s unpredictable movement offers something screens can’t replicate: organic beauty that never repeats itself. This addresses a specific ’90s memory: when gathering around fire pits or candles created natural gathering spots before everyone retreated to separate screens.
Handcrafted by musical instrument makers ensures premium build quality.
Bioethanol fuel burns clean without smoke or unpleasant odors.
Safe for indoor use brings real fire into spaces traditional fireplaces can’t reach.
No installation required means portable ambiance anywhere you want it.
The brass surface creates mesmerizing light reflections as flames move.
Eco-friendly fuel choice aligns with modern environmental consciousness.
What We Dislike
Bioethanol fuel requires ongoing purchases, unlike electric alternatives.
Open flames still demand attention and caution around children or pets.
The brass construction places it in a higher price bracket.
Fuel consumption costs add up with regular use.
Limited heat output makes it more about ambiance than warmth.
Brass requires occasional polishing to maintain its signature shine.
3. RetroWave 7-in-1 Radio
This radio looks like something you’d find in a ’90s camping supply catalog, but its capabilities extend far beyond FM stations. Seven functions pack into one device: Bluetooth speaker, MP3 player, AM/FM/shortwave radio, flashlight, clock, power bank, and SOS alarm. That combination addresses both daily listening and emergency preparedness, making it relevant whether you’re hosting a backyard party or riding out a power outage. The retro aesthetics make it attractive enough to keep visible instead of buried in an emergency kit.
Bluetooth connectivity lets you stream modern playlists while the USB and microSD slots enable offline playback. The shortwave radio capability feels especially ’90s, when scanning international stations offered a window into distant cultures. Hand-crank and solar charging mean it works when the grid doesn’t. The built-in flashlight and SOS alarm complete the emergency features. This versatility reflects the ’90s ethos of multipurpose tools before planned obsolescence became standard. One device replacing seven separate gadgets creates less clutter while ensuring you’re covered for various scenarios.
Seven functions in one device reduce clutter and redundancy.
Hand-crank and solar charging provide power independence.
Shortwave radio access connects you to international broadcasts without the internet.
Bluetooth and MP3 playback bridge nostalgic form with modern features.
Emergency SOS alarm and flashlight add genuine safety value.
The nostalgic design makes it attractive for daily display.
What We Dislike
Multiple functions mean compromises compared to specialized devices.
Hand-crank charging requires significant effort for limited power.
Solar charging depends on the weather and sunlight exposure.
The retro aesthetic might feel too utilitarian for some home styles.
Shortwave reception quality varies dramatically by location.
Seven functions create a learning curve for optimal use.
4. Perpetual Orrery Kinetic Art
This mechanical solar system model channels the elegance of 18th-century European craftsmanship into a desktop sculpture that never stops moving. Inspired by grand orreries that once graced aristocratic libraries, this version uses intricate mechanisms similar to sophisticated wristwatches to recreate planetary orbits. Planets circle the sun at their relative speeds while the moon goes through visible phases. Even the Tempel-Tuttle comet makes its elliptical journey, appearing periodically like its celestial counterpart.
The kinetic aspect transforms this from static decoration into living art. Watching planets trace their paths provides the same meditative quality as observing aquarium fish, but with educational value built in. The mechanical movement connects to ’90s educational toys that made learning tangible rather than screen-based. Every gear and orbit gets carefully calibrated, turning astronomy into something you can observe daily at arm’s reach. The brass and metal construction gives it substantial weight and permanence, qualities often missing from modern tech gadgets designed for planned replacement.
The premium craftsmanship commands a significant investment.
Delicate mechanisms require careful handling and placement.
Dust accumulation on moving parts needs occasional attention.
The large footprint demands dedicated display space.
Mechanical complexity means difficult repairs if something breaks.
Some might find it too ornate for minimalist aesthetics.
5. Side A Cassette Speaker
This Bluetooth speaker disguises itself as a transparent mixtape, complete with Side A labeling and visible “reels” inside the clear shell. The cassette shape isn’t just cosmetic nostalgia. It comes with a clear case that doubles as a display stand, letting you prop it up like you once displayed your most treasured mix. Bluetooth 5.3 handles wireless connectivity while a microSD slot allows offline playback of MP3 files. The sound tuning deliberately evokes the warm, slightly compressed character of actual tape playback rather than clinical digital precision.
At under fifty dollars, this hits the sweet spot between genuine functionality and affordable nostalgia. The transparent shell reveals internal components, mimicking see-through electronics that defined ’90s youth culture. You can actually read the Side A label, adding to the mixtape illusion. The compact size fits easily in bags or pockets, making it practical for travel or outdoor use. This succeeds because it doesn’t try to be an audiophile device. It embraces the cassette’s original purpose: sharing music you love in a format that carries emotional weight beyond pure fidelity.
The transparent shell and Side A label nail the mixtape aesthetic.
Bluetooth 5.3 provides reliable wireless connectivity.
microSD playback works offline without phone dependency.
Warm sound tuning captures cassette character instead of sterile precision.
The clear case converts into a functional display stand.
Under fifty dollars makes it an impulse purchase or an easy gift.
What We Dislike
The small size limits bass response and overall volume.
Tuned warmth might frustrate those wanting a flat frequency response.
The microSD slot only accepts MP3 format, not lossless files.
Battery life likely won’t match larger speakers.
The novelty factor might wear off after initial excitement.
Compact dimensions mean less impressive sound than larger alternatives.
6. Portable CD Cover Player
This device solves a problem streaming services created: what do you look at while listening to music? It plays audio CDs while displaying the album artwork in a dedicated pocket, reuniting the visual and auditory experience that made physical media special. The built-in speaker and rechargeable battery mean it goes anywhere, but the minimalist design also makes it worthy of permanent display. You can even mount it on the wall, turning it into a rotating art gallery that changes with your listening mood.
The combination of portability and display functionality sets this apart from typical CD players. Album artwork wasn’t just decoration in the ’90s. It provided context, told stories, and often became iconic imagery tied to the music itself. This player acknowledges that streaming thumbnails can’t replace holding a jewel case while listening to a new album for the first time. The built-in speaker eliminates setup complexity. Just insert a CD, position the artwork, and press play. That simplicity reflects the ’90s plug-and-play mentality before every device demanded app downloads and account creation.
Dedicated artwork display reunites visual and audio elements of albums.
Built-in speaker provides true portability without additional equipment.
A rechargeable battery eliminates cord clutter for placement flexibility.
Wall mounting capability transforms it into a rotating art display.
Minimalist design works as decoration even when not playing.
Playing physical CDs forces intentional listening instead of endless skipping.
What We Dislike
CD collections take up storage space; streaming eliminates.
Built-in speaker quality likely can’t match dedicated audio systems.
The format limits you to CDs you actually own or purchase.
Wall mounting requires an additional bracket sold separately.
Physical media scratches and degrades over time.
Younger users might not own any CDs to play.
7. Invisible Shoehorn
This stainless steel shoehorn with transparent stand brings utilitarian elegance to something usually hidden in closets. The long handle eliminates back strain when putting on shoes, a small relief that compounds over the years of daily use. The polished steel surface glides smoothly without snagging socks or stockings. When placed in its clear acrylic stand, the shoehorn becomes sculptural, looking nothing like its typical function. It hides in plain sight as an attractive decoration rather than an obvious utility.
The transparent stand concept reflects ’90s fascination with revealing function through form. See-through electronics, skeleton watches, and visible mechanics all shared this philosophy: showing how things work makes them more interesting. A shoehorn seems mundane until you consider how many people strain their backs daily because they don’t have one handy. The long stainless steel construction ensures durability measured in decades rather than years. This represents the opposite of disposable culture: buying something once and using it daily for life.
The long handle protects lower backs from repeated strain.
Polished stainless steel prevents sock snags and tears.
The transparent stand creates a sculptural display from mundane objects.
Durable construction ensures decades of reliable use.
Unique aesthetic makes it acceptable for visible placement.
The smooth surface glides effortlessly for easy shoe wearing.
What We Dislike
The minimalist aesthetic might be too subtle for those wanting obvious function.
Stainless steel shows fingerprints and requires occasional cleaning.
The transparent stand adds bulk compared to wall-mounted options.
Higher price point than basic plastic alternatives.
The long design requires dedicated storage or display space.
Some might find the “invisible” concept pretentious for a shoehorn.
Bringing It All Together
These seven products share a common thread beyond ’90s aesthetics: they make technology feel approachable again. Each one prioritizes tactile interaction and visible personality over disappearing into seamless ecosystems. You can actually touch controls, see mechanisms working, and display these devices proudly instead of hiding them. That philosophy defined ’90s product design before everything became black glass rectangles designed to vanish into backgrounds.
Millennials bridge generations that experienced distinct technology eras. These products honor that position by combining familiar forms with modern capabilities. Whether you’re streaming through a cassette speaker or watching planets orbit on your desk, you’re participating in design that values presence over absence. The ’90s taught us that objects could spark joy and conversation. These seven products prove that the lesson still resonates in 2026, offering alternatives to invisible technology that serves function while sacrificing soul.
Bandcamp has addressed the AI slop problem vexing musicians and their fans of late. The company is banning any music or audio on its platform that is "wholly or in substantial part" made by generative AI, according to its blog. It also clarified that the use of AI tools to impersonate other artists or styles is “strictly prohibited” by policies already in place.
Any music suspected to be AI generated may be removed by the Bandcamp team and the company is giving users reporting tools to flag such content. "We believe that the human connection found through music is a vital part of our society and culture, and that music is much more than a product to be consumed," the company wrote.
The announcement makes Bandcamp one of the first music platforms to offer a clear policy on the use of AI tech. AI-generated music (aka “slop”) has increasingly been invading music-streaming platforms, with Deezer for one recently saying that 50,000 AI-generated songs are uploaded to the app daily, or around 34 percent of its music.
Platforms have been relatively slow to act against this trend. Spotify has taken some baby steps on the matter, having recently promised to develop an industry standard for AI disclosure in music credits and debut an impersonation policy. For its part, Deezer said it remains the only streaming platform to sign a global statement on AI artist training signed by numerous actors and songwriters.
Bandcamp has a solid track record for artist support, having recently unveiled Bandcamp Fridays, a day that it gives 100 percent of streaming revenue to artists. That led to over $120 million going directly to musicians, and the company plans to continue that policy in 2026.
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/entertainment/streaming/bandcamp-prohibits-music-made-wholly-or-in-substantial-part-by-ai-130050593.html?src=rss
