I got my first record player when I was five or six years old, a little white unit that looked like it came from the set of 2001: A Space Odyssey. While I owned a few records of my own (we’re talking the Star Wars picture disc and Alvin and the Chipmunks’ Christmas album), most of what I listened to was pilfered from my parents’ record collection: Blondie, Led Zeppelin, and Jimi Hendrix albums. For my 8th birthday I got a boombox with a cassette deck and spent a few years acquiring music in both formats. The last vinyl albums I recall buying were the soundtracks to Beat Street and Breakin’, both released in 1984. By seventh grade (1985), I was exclusively buying cassettes. That’s the same year I got my first “all-in-one” integrated stereo system, complete with a record player, two cassette decks, and a radio tuner.
My dad purchased a Sony Discman in 1989 and my buddy Jeff got a CD-playing boombox for Christmas in 1990. Before I had my own CD player I would buy CDs and listen to them on their players. The first CDs I purchased were Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me by The Cure, Violent Femmes’ self-titled debut album, and a radio promo CD full of anti-littering/pro-recycling blurbs from celebrities, which made my list of the five worst CDs I own. Sometime in 1991 I got my own dual CD/cassette boombox. Even then, I continued buying cassettes. I definitely recall owning both Pearl Jam’s 10 and Nirvana’s Nevermind (both released in 1991) on cassette.
I’ve told this story before, but at some point I acquired a big padded cassette carrier that held a whopping 60 cassettes (30 on each side). That thing was filled with 60 of my favorite albums, with one side filled with heavy metal albums and the other side full of rap and alternative tapes. I kept that carrier in my car at all times, and in 1992, someone busted out my window and stole it. Instead of replacing old cassettes with new cassettes, that’s when I started buying CDs.
With a vengeance.
In 1993 Jeff built me a slipshod set of shelves for my CDs. The makeshift box had three sets of shelves, each one holding approximately 50 CDs. My goal at that time was to own 150 CDs, mostly because the shelves wobbled less when each one was full.
By 1998, I had close to a thousand.
Regular readers know that I have attachment issues to “things,” and CDs are things. Not all, but I can recall where and when I purchased many of the CDs I own. I waited in line in Weatherford to buy Pantera’s Vulgar Display of Power the day it came out. I bought Cypress Hill’s first album from the used pile at Rainbow Records. I picked up the first Presidents of the United States disc the day before I went on my first work trip for the FAA, and listened to it the entire time.
I don’t have a single memory attached to any of the mp3s I’ve downloaded.
In 2007 I began ripping every one of my CDs to MP3. I’ve talked about this project before. It took me several years. After ripping them all, the goal was to sell them. I couldn’t do it. They made it as far as the garage, where they sit today in large 30-gallon tubs. Four of them.
When I originally began converting my CDs I did them in 128k, considered today to be a relatively low bitrate. Halfway through the project I switched to 192k. If I were starting today I would either use 320k or simply rip them to FLAC (no pun intended), a lossless format that maintains the complete audio integrity of the original. When I downloaded my first mp3s, space was a premium; today, one-terabyte drives are the norm, if not small. Then again, isn’t that always the way?
My kids have no concept of “an album” — their world revolves around radio hits and single mp3s. My kids have never owned a real CD, but know how to find (and I can only assume, download) songs from YouTube.
Excluding devices integrated into our computers, we own two CD boomboxes — both are tiny, covered in dust, and sitting out in the garage. We own at least three or four Blu-tooth speakers that can play music when connected to an iAnything. I own the only cassette deck in the house, a dual Kenwood component deck connected to my computer for converting cassette tapes to mp3s. All three of our cars have CD players in them. I’ve never checked to see if either of the ones in my truck or my car even work.
I just had this discussion the other day with some friends. Throughout the 80s and 90s I collected albums and CDs and wound up amassing over 2000 of them. But once the MP3 player came out I noticed that CDs became less and less useful to me. They all sit in a glass built in case next to my fireplace.
At this point now, I haven’t purchased or even listened to a CD in 5 years (maybe more).
I subscribe to streaming music, Slacker is my poison, but the one line here really resonated with me: I don’t have a single memory attached to any of the mp3s I’ve downloaded.
I’ve managed two different record stores, and haunted many others, and I can almost remember where or when I got each and every album I own. But as I’ve gotten older and become quite content with being a passive music listener, the memories of listening the physical media can never be replaced.
I collect records and cassettes (more records than cassettes, but that’s a different story). I also pick up CDs when they have something that looks interesting and the price is right.
To wit: Bought Phish’s “HOIST” on CD at a Library book sale back in New York (pre-2002) for a dollar. I knew NOTHING about them, but I had seen the name (I knew they existed, but that was about it). Today, they are one of my favorite bands.
Frank Zappa albums are becoming as rare as hen’s teeth. Every now and then you’ll come across a Ryko CD pressing of an FZ album – and they’re pretty well done. I’ll pick those up when I find them.
As for records and tapes – it’s mainly jazz and blues when I find them.
I have a ton of music, but records are the most accessible for me – they have them at thrift shops, record stores, and hipster emporiums. I’ll get new digital file music, but only if it’s to listen in my car or when DJing.
As for the Thunderstorm CD – I own a few. I go to sleep listening to them; I find them very soothing. I did buy one (at a Goodwill) that had very low-level spoken words residing under the claps of thunder and pealing rain (not subliminal, but definitely in the background). That one got donated after the first listen. I don’t need someone telling me to relax while I’m trying to relax. My brain kept telling this idiot to shut up – I was listening to the storm!
A YDKF episode on records would be great (but I get it’s not really your area of interest).
I’d buy the box set! Better than that Chickenman album I found at a garage sale.
THE
SPOKEN WORD
AARDVARK