I used to have quite a CD collection. The first two discs I ever bought were John Lennon Live in New York City and the Beatles compilation Past Masters, Part 1. That was probably in 1985 or so. Over the next twenty years I collected many more. Some came from the music clubs I found advertising in magazines. I could pick ten CDs for a penny apiece (just rip out the little sticker with the album cover on, stick it to the application, and tape a penny on) and then agree to buy six more over the next year at full price. Given that CDs were about ten bucks at the store, I never did understand how they made a profit. Ten CDs for a dime?
Anyway, I did it and got all sorts of music I'd otherwise never have purchased (maybe this was the catch). I was turned on to lots of blues like Robert Cray, Albert King, and John Lee Hooker. Sometimes I couldn't find anything at all I wanted and just randomly picked something. This is how I wound up with the Big Head Todd and the Monsters CD.
Most of my CDs, however, came from our local music store, Vintage Vinyl. It was a cool place where all the guys behind the counter wore concert t-shirts and had tattoos up and down their arms. It was the type of place where you knew you'd be okay if you showed up at the counter with a Butthole Surfers CD but not a Rick Astley disc. I mean, they wouldn't outwardly ridicule you but you'd know what they were thinking.
Somewhere along the way music became digital and the days of the CD began to fade away. My collection was somewhat of a storage issue so I decided to save them all to my computer and then sell the physical copies for about $3 apiece. Well, I didn't get that much for them. And then my computer crashed.
All that music. Gone.
In the years since, I have saved the few CDs I have remaining to my iTunes account although I still keep them stashed under my bed. I still have all the blues stuff and about a dozen Miles Davis CDs. There's a few rock ones too but not much. Smashing Pumpkins. Elliot Smith. The Jellyfish. Stray Cats. The Black Crowes. Eric Clapton.
These days I get my music from the iTunes store. More often than not I buy one song at a time from various artists and "albums." It's not the same. I miss the liner art and liner notes. I miss the smell of the paper and the credits. But most of all I miss the opportunity to outgrow the radio hit and fall in love with the little known B-side that takes time to grow on you. Of course, I could still do this - buy the whole album- but I don't that often.
For Christmas I received two $25 iTune cards - one from my mom and another from a student. I'm overwhelmed by choices. What to buy? I could begin rebuilding my Beatles collection. Or find more music from the Fleet Foxes since I love the one album of theirs I have. Or pick thirty-five separate songs to fill out a new playlist. Or grab a Pete Seeger compilation, now that he's gone, to remind myself why he was so cool. Or pick a sub-genre like "acid rock" and see what I don't have. Or ask my friends for recommendations of music I've never even tried. Or, as I have done for the past month, let the gift certificates sit in my backpack as I continue to think.
So many choices.
