Once a year, Spotify Wrapped and Apple Music Replay turn streaming music into a performative competition. We compare minutes listened and top artists in a battle for who has the most niche music taste. Every playlist curated, song selected, and artist streamed feels intentional because we think people are watching.Â
I admit, I’m guilty of this. I’ve been in Tyler, The Creator’s top 0.5% listeners for about four years, but after a massive 2010s pop phase post-Coachella, I am certain Justin Bieber will take his place this year. Basic, right? I was annoyed when I realized that my guilty pleasure artist would rise to the top, but then I wondered: Why do I care?
Somewhere along the way, music became less about how it makes me feel and more about what it says about me. So lately, I’ve stepped away from streaming music all the time and started collecting CDs instead.Â
When people think of physical media, they usually think of vinyl first. But vinyl has arguably become a part of performative music culture, too, with records sometimes serving more as decor rather than a way to enjoy music. According to entertainment data company Luminate, 50% of vinyl buyers surveyed in 2023 didn’t own a record player. CDs, meanwhile, are held in small plastic cases that don’t exactly scream aesthetic bedroom decor.
Collecting CDs, for me, isn’t about curating a collection for others to see. It’s about me and the music. No genre trackers or listening minutes — just me, the walls, and the music. There’s no peer pressure to conform and no eyes on you.Â
Sure, I could just stop caring what people think and stream whatever I want. But my CD player offers a listening experience I love, revealing elements in albums I might otherwise miss. Plus, every time I pop in a disc, I feel like I’m a cool Y2K girl, like Lindsay Lohan in Freaky Friday.
Unexpectedly, CDs have also become a way to connect to my parents. My dad introduced me to music from the golden age of hip-hop, so you can imagine my excitement walking into my favorite record store and finding CDs by artists ranging from 2Pac to Wu-Tang Clan. Now, whenever I pick up another old-school hip-hop CD, I have someone to share the excitement with. My mom has also introduced me to grunge and alternative rock through artists like Soundgarden and Radiohead (whose CDs I bought recently!), and her own CD collection has given us another way to bond.
That’s what I love most about physical music. An album becomes more than a few songs on your aux playlist. It’s something you can hold, appreciate for its quality, and share with the people you love.
My Spotify Wrapped might tell the world what I’m listening to, but my CD collection reminds me that music taste doesn’t have to be flaunted. Sometimes, the best parts of what we love are the parts we keep just for ourselves.