I can’t remember the exact year that I packed up my beloved CD collection and shipped it down to our family’s farm. Maybe 2005ish? I’m sure my husband remembers and is currently saying it out loud. He has a freakish talent for remembering facts such as this – that, and 80s/90s tv commercial jingles. It’s a real skill.
Anyway, I’m sure every one of us aged over 35 did it. You might have been toying with iTunes and iPods, flipping between digital and physical music consumption. But after a while (probs moving house a few times), decided to free up a shelf (or seven) and get rid of the clutter. Donate your hard-won CD collection to an Op Shop. Sorry if this is triggering. I feel you.
Then, in 2008ish, everything went to shit. Those of us hanging onto our CDs definitely reliquished them when Spotify launched. And why wouldn’t we? A service which would stream all of the music, all of the time – this seemed too good to be true!
Suddenly all those shelves of discs collecting dust seemed so redundant – why devote so much physical space in your home to something you could get (practically) free, online?
I totally drank that Kool-Aid. No question. I was like a kid in a candy store. Off chops on all the music, all of the time. No pauses. No gaps. A steady stream of earworms, rarities and all that stuff you never knew you wanted.
I’d always kept a small collection of records on the side – I saw vinyl as a fun party favour. Usually around the wee hours of the morning at a house party, when busting out a particular record would see the whole house errupt. You know the one I mean…
Please be upstanding for the greatest mullet (and one of the greatest voices) to ever come out of Oz.
But my CDs languished in boxes on a farm. Forgotten.
Until a few years back when we sold the property. Rather than donate the CDs, we welcomed them back into our home. A special bookshelf in my studio housed them. This collection of thousands of dollars spent during my teenage to mid 20s years – ranging from rainforest sounds to Tchaikovsky symphonies (the GOAT); Miles Davis to Nirvana, Ani di Franco to a massive selection of Global Underground Compilations (this one will never ever get old)
Little by little, I began to rediscover the joy of CDs. Sure, I could find these all on Spotify or Apple Music or as above, Youtube – but recently I’ve discovered why physical music has the edge over digital – and always will.
The whole physical engagement with music is one thing. Having to think about it; choose what you’re going to listen to, and then open the case, put it in the player, press play. It’s a nice process.
When the wifi is screwy, having music to play is definitely a bonus too.
And not using your device to play music – as someone said to me the other day, ‘when you use your phone to play music, you end up seeing something else like a text or notification, and your focus is pulled’.
Word.
I have a visceral reaction to playing digital music on weekend mornings now. I legit can’t do it.
But for me, the real beauty about playing a CD is what’s not there.
The silence. The pause.
Ok so at the end of the CD, what happens? It stops. Silence. A moment to stop, digest what you’ve just heard, and decide where to go next. You get the chance to ask yourself:
What music do I feel like listening to next?
or, I loved that so much, I’m gonna just hit play and start it all over again.
The choice is yours.
It’s even more so with a cassette. You not only get a pause at the end of the album but also in the middle; a brief respite as you hear the tape machine click and turn onto side B.
As for vinyl? You have to go and turn the thing over! You actually have to physically engage with the music to keep it going.
Not so with streaming services. There’s no pause. Ever.
The album finishes, and the algorithm cues up more music. It goes on and on. Neverending. No time to pause and consider where you would like to go. No choice.
Maybe you’re done with three hours of Khruangbin-esque music (nb: I adore K-bin and am very guilty of this exact thing), and if you had the choice, would put on some 90s hip hop instead? Or some jazz? Something that reflects your mood in this very moment.
But you don’t have this opportunity, because there’s no silence. No pause.
The pause is everything. It’s where our freedom lives. It’s where we have the chance to hear our inner voice, suggesting where to go next, rather than be told by an algorithm what we want.
We live in a society that is speeding up, faster and faster. Everything rushes past, no chance to stop and actually digest things. It’s exhausting. So pauses here and there. Silence. These things matter. We need them. It’s also why I always allow silence at the end of a sound bath – for this exact purpose.
Maybe a CD or vinyl collection isn’t on your 2026 bingo card and I get that – but maybe consider using Bandcamp or if you must stream, turn off the auto play option and don’t use their neverending playlists. See how much choice you can rein back in for yourself. It may seem like a small thing but I promise, changing your music consumption habits will trickle through to other areas of your life.
And if you were lucky enough to keep them, go dig out your cds. Dust them off and put them on. Relive some magic from years gone by.
And when the cd ends, be like Depeche Mode.
xx p
