Many of the “Millennial” generation, and previous generations, undoubtedly remember that in the past, to get the music we wanted to listen to, we had to personally go to a record store. Stores dedicated exclusively to selling compact discs still exist, but they are becoming fewer and fewer, and have lost much relevance, although this was not always the case.
These stores began to disappear when music consumption turned towards 100% digital media, such as the mp3, which made it much easier to obtain music online, both legally and illegally. Finally, thanks to the current consumption of music through streaming services like Spotify, Apple Music, and YouTube, compact disc stores seem to be increasingly forgotten.
Thinking about this doesn’t make me want to go back to “the good old days.” While I remember with some nostalgia the rows of my collection of compact discs proudly stacked on my shelves, standing in front of them and deciding what to listen to, and the joy of gradually seeing this collection grow, I am not someone who likes to live in the past.
Although I haven’t had the heart to get rid of my collection, those old records are stacked in cardboard boxes, stored for many years. They were first replaced by a series of iPods, and finally, by an iPhone. The same fate befell my books, ever since the Kindle e-reader crossed my path, now that we are on the topic.
Anyway, thinking about this brings back a series of very special memories I had from visiting multiple record stores, finding what I wanted or not, and sometimes getting a few surprises.
Just as it was previously in the era of Vinyl records, compact disc stores used to be very relevant, and had a significant impact on the world, since besides the radio, they were the only means by which fans could get the music they wanted to hear. Additionally, depending on the discs they chose to sell or promote, these stores could greatly help the musical career of the artists themselves.
Visiting a compact disc store was a stimulating experience. There was generally an interesting atmosphere, with all kinds of music playing at high volume, walls adorned with paintings, posters, and merchandise from bands and artists, booths with headphones to listen to some discs you were considering buying, and all kinds of interesting people walking among the endless shelves full of discs; people you knew probably appreciated music as much as you did.
I could spend hours there, wandering among the available discs, to see what I found, living that tactile sensation of searching and choosing among the options, and picking up the boxes of discs one by one, as if they were discovered treasures, building a tower with the discs I was interested in buying. Then, I would head to one of the booths with headphones to listen to them, if there were some of these discs open, available for customer use. Or sometimes just having legendary conversations with other music fans I came across randomly.
Compact disc stores made me feel like I was experiencing being immersed in something like a musical club. A cozy temporary sound bubble. A place of discovery and enjoyment – for a price.
And after leaving, arriving home with a humble record in my hands, or a handful under my arm if I was lucky, and adding them neatly and carefully to the rest of the discs I collected with pride. And of course, followed by the ritual of listening to the new acquisitions from beginning to end, while investigating the elaborate and colorful booklet that CDs used to bring back then, sometimes dense and full of art and information about the artists.
We could argue that, in a way, thanks to the physical and economic limitations that acquiring and collecting music through CDs implied, we appreciated the music we had more. We truly valued it, and sometimes even felt great joy for having caught some rare or highly demanded discs.
All this changed for me one day when a certain friend gave me a CD with no particular cover and told me it contained “the entire Metallica discography.” I thought he was kidding until he inserted it into his laptop, and to my amazement, I found out it was very true. The mp3 had arrived, and our lives would never be the same.
Little did I know back then that the sound quality of the mp3 is not the best, especially that first generation of mp3 files, but who cares. Thanks to the mp3, I was able to discover and come to enjoy, not always in the most legal way, a lot of music that I never would have had access to.
Although I would never want to go back to the era of CDs, as I mentioned, somewhere I still keep my old collection, as if it were an important part of who I was and still am. And although I wouldn’t have the interest or the time, perhaps not even the enthusiasm, I had back then to visit a compact disc store nowadays, I remember them fondly, and I regret a little that the new generations won’t get to experience them like I did.
