the death of disc
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the lot of you here who are collectors, whether of vinyl or what not, know of the unfathomable joy and pride brought by owning something rare, hard to find, out of print, and the like. rarely, though, does the same euphoric vibe emanate from owning the Tommy Hilfiger of music media - compact discs.if they do not even boast backmasked messages, really, what CDs out there are to die for? just don't mock me when i confess that i have a favorite compact disc. after all, an obsession over the otherwise generally unremarkable separates the Moggers from the lookers, and all that.
my CD of Down Colorful Hill by Red House Painters comes in a Digipak case on whose back it announces: FIRST EDITION MANUFACTURED IN THE U.K. / AUGUST, 1992. which may or may not mean anything special, and likely the latter.the Digipak casing is discolored, scratched, sealed on either side with Duraseal self-adhesive transparent cover (one of the ghastliest moves i have made in music; that, and buying a cassette tape of Poison's Open Up and Say...Ahh!). the disc itself remains unscathed, and, because i never thought to import it to iTunes until MOG came along, the tracks smugly sport their generation losses like war wounds, or if this were the '80s, Levi's rips.the CD is fifteen years old. i had bought it back when i was still a music sponge with a purchase equation: one artist entirely unknown to me for every three that i knew. there it was, title and sleeve caught my eye, i gave it one spin and put my money down. in other words, this CD also represents a time in life when my music shopping behavior was mayhap at its most pubescently carefree, which i now miss.
it was one of only ten or so CDs i brought with me to Cambodia all the way from the Philippines (more painful than deciding what shoes to leave behind). just now it got dug from yet unpacked luggage as i tagged an Angkor post with it (and memories got all alluvial).(briefly, this post does have one thing to do with Red House Painters. they are the only band i love that all my past boyfriends did not only hate but spurned with a passion. this made DCH, my introduction to RHP, all the more beloved by me.)i look at my favorite CD now knowing it is never going the way of vinyl; who even still carries a Discman around? it hits me that the new generation of music digesters do not do so in terms of albums. here and now, i may as well bid farewell to hidden tracks, liner notes, and lyrics printed on sleeves (remember what a big deal that was?).and i almost feel nostalgic towards everything i have ever ripped and burned in the name of something special.
my CD of Down Colorful Hill by Red House Painters comes in a Digipak case on whose back it announces: FIRST EDITION MANUFACTURED IN THE U.K. / AUGUST, 1992. which may or may not mean anything special, and likely the latter.the Digipak casing is discolored, scratched, sealed on either side with Duraseal self-adhesive transparent cover (one of the ghastliest moves i have made in music; that, and buying a cassette tape of Poison's Open Up and Say...Ahh!). the disc itself remains unscathed, and, because i never thought to import it to iTunes until MOG came along, the tracks smugly sport their generation losses like war wounds, or if this were the '80s, Levi's rips.the CD is fifteen years old. i had bought it back when i was still a music sponge with a purchase equation: one artist entirely unknown to me for every three that i knew. there it was, title and sleeve caught my eye, i gave it one spin and put my money down. in other words, this CD also represents a time in life when my music shopping behavior was mayhap at its most pubescently carefree, which i now miss.it was one of only ten or so CDs i brought with me to Cambodia all the way from the Philippines (more painful than deciding what shoes to leave behind). just now it got dug from yet unpacked luggage as i tagged an Angkor post with it (and memories got all alluvial).(briefly, this post does have one thing to do with Red House Painters. they are the only band i love that all my past boyfriends did not only hate but spurned with a passion. this made DCH, my introduction to RHP, all the more beloved by me.)i look at my favorite CD now knowing it is never going the way of vinyl; who even still carries a Discman around? it hits me that the new generation of music digesters do not do so in terms of albums. here and now, i may as well bid farewell to hidden tracks, liner notes, and lyrics printed on sleeves (remember what a big deal that was?).and i almost feel nostalgic towards everything i have ever ripped and burned in the name of something special.
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