In early 1980s Calcutta, flipping through boxes of LPs was a joy. With every few purchases, a little more room space got squeezed out because of added shelves. The tail end of the era introduced four-and-a-half-inch plastic CDs in jewel-box cases. The cycle of making shelves was repeated.

But soon everything changed with the arrival of MP3 and then music streaming — we were told to throw away what we bought over the years and rely on digital services to listen to music.

I am glad that I ignored the suggestion because music labels keep playing with the heart by deleting, reinstating and then deleting again albums from streaming services. Throwing away records and CDs is akin to ignoring intimacy. Even with a large disposable income, it would be difficult to get back some of the music we have lost.

Streams are the slowest way for musicians to earn money. Also, streaming is the cheapest way of saying, “I don’t care about music because I have it all for a few bucks a month.”

What did buying music teach us? Take the example of an album like Season of Glass by Yoko Ono. First, one had to save for months to buy a record. Second, it made us appreciate a handful of songs, played in a sequence that the musician wanted us to. Third, it introduced us to information about the producer and engineers involved in an album, which indirectly made us search for other titles they have worked on. Fourth, it made us read up on the musician and what she was going through at the moment. Fifth, there is joy in ownership.

We buy glass vases and pictures for our houses to make our houses an extension of our personalities. There is pride in seeing a Mario Miranda cartoon hanging on the wall. Similarly, records and CDs are an extension of who we are and the memories we want to keep.

Don’t become a pawn in the game music labels and sellers play. Why allow them to delete an album from a streaming service because of an ownership issue? Here are six albums that have taught me the value of owning music. That’s right, we don’t own the music that’s there on streaming services. And don’t forget, audiobooks can be changed to reflect the political climate, ebooks can be deleted to fall in line, and music can be killed if musicians and their estates don’t agree with the rules set by streaming services.

Season of Glass by Yoko Ono

Spring passes
and one remembers one’s innocence
summer passes
and one remembers one’s exuberance
autumn passes
and one remembers one’s reverence
winter passes
and one remembers one’s perseverance
there is a season that never passes
and that is the season of glass

On December 8, 1980, John Lennon was shot in the back twice after getting out of a limousine and while walking into an entranceway of the Dakota building where he lived. As Lennon fell to the ground, in his white T-shirt and dungaree jacket, his wife screamed: “Help me. Help me.”

The only help that came her way was words when she released her solo album, Season of Glass, the following year. His bloodied eyeglasses and a half-full glass of water found a place on the album’s cover. Its quiet vibe is evident from the opening song, Goodbye Sadness, as well as the poem given on the back cover. It was perhaps her way of trying to move on from her grief. Ono’s life without Lennon had started unfolding through songs like Even When You’re Far Away: “Once there was this little boy who asked his father/ Would you tell me that old, old story?” The flip side of the LP offers a rawer feel, Ono lashing out at haters.

Nostalgia, Ultra by Frank Ocean

The album is not difficult to find but one of the best songs on it is missing (on streaming) — American Wedding, a seven-minute remake of Hotel California by the Eagles. Frank Ocean laments the state of love in America.

Born Christopher Breaux, many called him Lonny. He later changed his name to Christopher Francis Ocean, based in part on the original Ocean’s 11. By the time his debut mixtape, Nostalgia, Ultra, arrived, Ocean was already writing songs for the likes of Justin Bieber and Brandy. He was already signed to Def Jam but, feeling neglected by the label, he released Nostalgia, Ultra independently in 2011. On the day of its release, Tyler, The Creator, tweeted the link to his huge following, making it go viral.

The album soaked up nostalgia, including interludes named after 1990s video games and the sounds of a cassette tape can be heard.

One track from the album, American Wedding, makes Nostalgia, Ultra (in its entirety) difficult to find. Following the mixtape’s Tumbler release, Eagles’s member Don Henley threatened legal action. Yet, this remains an effort that brought about a change in how we perceive R&B today.

Van Lear Rose by Loretta Lynn

A symbol of American rural pride, Loretta Lynn sang about what is popularly called the hard-knock life. A wife at 15, mother at 16 and grandmother in her early 30s, Lynn will be remembered for her Kentucky drawl and deep voice. The singer of songs like The Pill and Don’t Come A-Drinkin’ (With Lovin’ on Your Mind) mirrored the changing mindset of women throughout middle-class America.

Recasting her voice in a new setting was the album Van Lear Rose, produced by Jack White, the singer and guitarist for the Grammy-winning garage-rock band, White Stripes. She was encouraged to take on songwriting duties and what the album offered was country rusticity that helped Lynn reintroduce herself to a new generation of listeners.

The Ecstatic by Mos Def

For most people, he is rapper Mos Def, for some he is the artiste Yasiin Bey. His debut single, Universal Magnetic, came in 1997 on James Murdoch’s Rawkus, one of the coolest singles from New York’s then-insurgent underground hip-hop scene.

The Ecstatic is an example of how music ownership can play havoc with what’s available on streaming. It is as important an album as his debut effort, Black on Both Sides. The album is packed with unconventional time signatures and symbolism. You can’t ignore the killer sample used on the song Supermagic — taken from an old song by Kurdish folk rock singer and ’70s cult hero Selda Bacan.

The Scandalous Sex Suite by Prince

Prince was someone who knew the power of having full control of his publishing catalogue. And the tight control over his own image turned him into a pop icon. After his death, his estate made deals that reintroduced most of his catalogue to Spotify and Apple Music but some of his albums/collections remain missing, like The Scandalous Sex Suite, which was released around the time of the Batman soundtrack of 1989, and soon after Lovesexy.

It will probably be remembered for the appearance of Kim Basinger. It is said that on the title track, the moans that are heard may belong to the Batman actress. It reminds one of Je T’aime... Moi Non Plus by Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin. The collection by Prince remains a lesson in aural seduction. It’s a journey that needs to be heard.

Paris Listen to the Magic by Benny Goodman

The American clarinetist and bandleader’s career was becoming somewhat aimless by 1967. After recording this LP, he started spending less time in recording studios. The music has its moments (like the Dixieland-style version of How Ya Gonna Keep ’Em Down on the Farm) and then there are tracks that remind one of Paris. Hearing the music now (if you can get hold of the LP), it shows the versatility of Goodman. This is the kind of stuff that can become the background score of a Billy Crystal film. Under Paris Skies gets a memorable treatment on the album.