I used to listen to the (Dutch) radio when I did my homework in the '80s. There was much less choice than there is nowadays which meant that a fair portion of my class mates also ended up listening to whatever program I'd listen to, leading to a shared common ground. The program I mostly listened to ("De Avondspits" (The evenening rush hour) hosted by a fairly well-spoken DJ by the name of "Frits Spits") was tailored to school-age youth and played a mixture of styles larded with spoken word (people could send lymericks [1] which related a song for the chance of winning some trinket) and call-in competitions. Sitting up there in my room doing my homework the radio, knowing that my classmates and others were also sitting somewhere doing their homework while listening to the same program gave a sense of being part of... something. Nothing big and earth-shattering, just a bit more than the drudge of sitting there doing homework. This being the Netherlands there were no commercials, other than a short block around the hour.

Of course I could also listen to my own music back then: play a mix tape or some records. I could get records at the library which I subsequently taped. While not comparable to the width and breadth of choice offered by official and 'pirate' online options now it still was a form of choice. It is just that, sometimes, it is nice not to have to make a choice other than switching the thing on, turning down the volume when some song comes by which doesn't pass the muster.

There were more programs like this: "Het Betonuur" ("beton" means concrete, they played hard rock etc.), "Stampij" (also hard rock), "De LP show" (a prosaic name which means "The LP (record) show", playing tracks of newer prog/symphonic rock/experimental artists), "Superclean Dream Machine" (even weirder music hosted by an ever weirder person), etc. I often had my tape recorder at the ready to record anything worthwhile.

I can now play the music which I heard back then at a moment's notice by using any of the online venues available to me. In many ways this is an improvement, but...

Imagine walking over a beach and finding a diamond in the sand. That would be an amazing discovery, something you'd remember for the rest of your life. Remember when you found that diamond back then? Remember what you were doing, with whom you were doing it, what came after?

Now imagine walking over a beach where there is no sand any more, only diamonds. They're everywhere, littering the streets, hiding under the thrash can. You pick one up and look at it: a diamond, big deal. You drop it and walk on...

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Limerick_(poetry)