Kevin programs a record player on a whim one cycle. It’s a sleek thing, black with the Grid’s trademark lines of light, and it looks awesome. And when he figures out how to play real, actual music on it—fuck, man. It’s the best, most pointless thing he’s ever made on the Grid.
He steadily builds a library. There’s Journey, of course, and Duran Duran. Some Foreigner. A lot more Prince than he expected. ABBA and Wham for the hell of it. He listens to Last Christmas way more than he intends to and sings along to Dancing Queen when he thinks he’s alone.
And when he shows it to Tron and Clu, introduces them to the music of the Users, he learns something about them. Tron, for example, likes Depeche Mode and Kate Bush. He relaxes to the Beach Boys. He hums along to the Temptations, Stevie Wonder, Hall & Oates. He tries to hit the high note in A-Ha’s Take on Me and never can, but he smiles anyway.
Clu, on the other hand, likes Queen. ELO. Kansas—mostly Carry on Wayward Son, which he listens to a lot. He tends toward power ballads and Billy Joel—sad, dramatic shit. And when he sings, it’s to himself, quiet, like it’s a secret thing just for him—
—at least until Kevin introduces them to karaoke.