There’s something to be said about a respectable compact disc collection. In our reclusive society, towering alphabetized stacks of decorated jewel cases are an obscure representation of both statu
There’s something to be said about a respectable compact disc collection. In our reclusive society, towering alphabetized stacks of decorated jewel cases are an obscure representation of both status and power. It’s almost Freudian how our minds obsess over this “size matters” philosophy regarding CDs. That is to say, my collection is bigger than yours.
Unfortunately, digital music now reigns supreme. With the farcical handheld device known as the Apple iPod, CDs aren’t as admirable as they once were. The iPod consciously restricts the computer savvy user, so buyers are becoming selective with their legal downloads. Why purchase the whole Gorillaz CD when it’s so much easier to download it a track at a time at 3:00 in the morning in your underwear? The focus has shifted from quantity to quality. Despicable! With CDs, the idea is traditionally more, more, more. But NOBODY wants to fill up an iPod.
Apple has subjugated the music buying experience and profited a thousand fold as a result. In convincing college students like myself that buying one song for a dollar is a better deal than buying a 15-song compact disc for $15, they’ve successfully “hit us where it hurts” and banked on our inabilities to do math. That’s just low.
I used to love going to the local record store. Not so much anymore. Thanks to this consumer-driven renaissance of digital downloading ignorance, our once beloved record stores are becoming just another opium incense flavored venue in which to pick up your $20 lime green iTunes card (“monopoly money”, if you will).
I crave the CD and I long for the record store. I want to always get my music from CDs and not from some multi-digit access code. To me at least, a CD collection just isn’t as impressive when it fits comfortably in your back pocket.