I like CDs; they’re a high fidelity standard that everyone agrees on. While SACD and DVD-Audio are higher quality and offer surround sound, most music is stereo — if only because we don’t care whether the rhythm guitarist was behind or beside us — and the increased quality is noticeable but not exceptional. They’re nice, but unnecessary. But CDs? CDs are awesome. They provide a permanent physical digital representation of music. The best part about them is their lack of copy protection. This isn’t a hippie/pirate thing, though I appreciate file sharing for the ability to get introduced to new genres and bands that radio doesn’t offer; I still buy music, but without file sharing you’re buying blind. No, the lack of copy protection and DRM is purely for historical purposes.
Many audiophiles rave about the warmth of vinyl records but because they’re analog the sound is not perfect. It sounds pretty much the same with each new listen but subtle variations can crop up. I mean, it’s not a huge deal but it matters when the same piece of vinyl has been played thousands of times and is sitting in a vault five thousand years from now, right? So CDs offer a digital alternative. There would be a bit of MacGyvering to get sound from ones and zeros, but if phonographs were lost and all the future had was the vinyl, it would be equally difficult to reverse engineer sound from those little bumps.
There’s a lot of talk about digital downloads taking over from DVDs and CDs and, in my opinion, it’s just the naivete of younger people who think that whatever new thing they grew up with is the wave of the future. People will always want that physical thing, that thing they can hold in their hands, that thing that was made by a professional, that thing that is theirs. It’s identical to all the others but it’s unique nonetheless. But I could be wrong. I still don’t see how social networking sites can replace real physical contact with friends and yet that’s just what they accomplish for many people. But I don’t want to be wrong. I don’t want CDs to be obsolete.
I have over a Terabyte of hard drive storage on my main computer. In fact, I’d have more but a couple of my drives are disconnected because my power supply doesn’t have enough SATA power cables. I store lossless copies of all my CDs there in FLAC format, and I also have mp3 versions for standard consumption. I don’t usually listen to the FLAC because my mp3s were made at very high bit rates and the difference is mostly indiscernible with my sound system and my ears. The FLAC is there for archival purposes. But that’s not what hard drives are good at. Hard drives, and similar media, are good at quickly erasing and rewriting data. And they’re susceptible to magnetic phenomena, so any attempt at using them for permanent storage would be foolhardy. What if, for example, during the great pole switch, that occurs periodically on Earth, the magnetic shift disrupts all earthbound hard drives? (I’m talking out of my ass here, someone please correct me if I’m wrong…)
The key here is that CDs remain. They are much more permanent than most other forms of digital storage. And they’re something you can hold. I still maintain that the tactile feeling of holding a CD can add a lot to the enjoyment of music. Flipping through the liner notes, reading the lyrics if the band prints them there (if they have lyrics), all of that lends to the mindspace that that particular set of songs imbues within you.
One claim is that with digital downloads you’re provided the luxury of buying only the tracks you like. There are two problems with that. The first problem is that it’s not always the best songs that get play time. An example from my own life: my favourite band is Interpol; I think their debut album “Turn on the Bright Lights” is the best album I’ve ever heard. Every song is amazing and gets better with each listen. There were four singles released from that album. They are all great songs but none of them are the best song on the album. Not only that, but the best song of the bunch that were released as singles has the part that makes the song so fantastic cut out to make it shorter for the radio. The point here is that if all you listen to is what mainstream media offers to you — or even what the band has to offer on their MySpace — you might not be getting the piece that speaks to you the most. Sometimes you need to take that leap and buy an album. If it sucks, it sucks, but then there are those diamonds in the rough that change the way you feel about the world. And all you went in looking for was a catchy single.
The second problem is that offering single track purchases can deflate the purpose of the album. Despite what many of you might think, the concept album is not an extinct species. Not every musician in the world listened to Pink Floyd’s “The Wall” and decided they’d never do better so they shouldn’t even try. Many concept albums may even masquerade as regular albums, or vice versa as was the case with American Idiot. There’s a song, Take the Veil Cerpin Taxt, on The Mars Volta’s debut album “De-Loused in the Comatorium” which is a good song if listened to independent of the rest of the album. But when listened to as the final song of the album, it transforms into a powerful conclusion to the ongoing, albeit vague and byzantine, story. You’re not only robbing yourself of the true potential of a concept album song by hearing it out of sequence, but you’re also disrespecting the intention of the artists.
This doesn’t mean that I think, or even want, digital downloads to go away. They provide a convenient source of music, both mainstream and independent. This gives independent bands the chance to get their music out there without going through the costly process of CD manufacturing and distribution. But it is not a replacement, it is an augmentation. Ultimately, if the music of these independent bands is good enough, a CD will be produced.
Humans are a social species, and it’ll take a few millennia of slowly evolving brain chemistry to change that, so the so-called “Brick & Mortar” stores of today aren’t going anywhere; we simply like the company, even of strangers, far too much to give it up. I love the convenience of going to amazon.com and ordering exactly what I want and getting it a few days later, but sometimes I want to wander around a store looking at band names, looking at album covers. Some of my favourite album have been purchased, or downloaded and subsequently purchased, on an utter whim with something as inconsequential as the look of the album or the weirdness of the band name to convince me that the album was worth my time. I think, and hope, that, by and large, most people are like that and that won’t change any time soon.