Long Live the CD!

Last week, Justin Ellis wrote a great article in the iHerald about the SINGLES generation and the current and future state of CDs. He interviewed local New Wave band Hiss & Chambers (who I still need to check out sometime) about digital distribution and how it has improved the band's exposure. In the article, Hiss & Chambers drummer Ryan Dolan said, "We're definitely starting to see the singles generation happen." Hiss & Chambers has made the decision to push the online distribution more than the physical, because it will save them greatly on costs and allow their name to get out more.

As more and more people buy music from online stores, the sales of CDs have taken a great descent. The RIAA has reported that CD sales have dropped to $9.1 Billion from $10.5 Billion and $10.4 Billion in the previous years. At the end of the article, Todd Richard is quoted saying, "Shopping on iTunes, however convenient it is, or downloading from your favorite band's MySpace page certainly can't take the place of the kid in the candy store feeling I recall so well from my childhood." And that's where I come in.

As far as music buying goes, I am a traditionalist. I'm not a vinyl buyer (most unfortunately), but I am a CD buyer, and when I say I'm a CD buyer. I really mean it. Whenever I step into the local Bullmoose, I almost always come out with at least one new CD. This last Saturday, I purchased Architecture In Helsinki's In Case We Die during a break from a night cruise with some friends. I couldn't help it. I didn't have any Architecture In Helsinki music before the purchase, and I couldn't stand listening to it on Youtube and Myspace for the umpteenth time. Yes, I have a debit card. I can buy music online if I want to, but the point in case is that I don't want to.

Architecture In Helsinki and The Shins

CDs are very special to me if you couldn't already tell. I believe they are more than just mere physical objects that take up space. They are soulful symbols of the bands that release them. And for that, there is a very special relationship that is created between the music buyer and the CD.

When you're going to buy a CD, you have to get out of your chair, find the car keys, and drive to your closest music store. You expend some gasoline for this little square case full of musical goodness but it's okay; it's worth it. When you get in the store, you might have to look around a little for the CD you're looking for. Where is it? Or sometimes, you don't know what you're going to get, so you just graze over the CD sections in alphabetical order, hoping for one CD to speak out to you. And then perhaps you find the CD you're looking for, you hold it in your hands and look at the cover art and tracklisting. Is this CD right for you? If you haven't gotten a recommendation, you may just have to wing it and hope for the best. If not, just put it back and look for another. Maybe it wasn't meant to be for the time being. Lets move on...

You finally find the CD you're looking for. It has beautiful and interesting artwork on the front and back. You know a few of the songs on the CD, and you're pretty sure that the other songs received some praise from a few online publications. This has to be it. But now comes the question: Do you get it new or do you get it used? Does it matter to you? Sometimes it matters to me; sometimes it doesn't. However you like it, you're still putting money towards the merchandise; sounds good.

So you have the CD purchased and a few more points on your Freakin' Buyer's Card. You're almost up to 13 points. You'd be able to purchase a new CD at half price next time. Good job! You drive back home, and you take a seat at your computer desk and start to wrestle with the dreaded plastic shrink wrap. What's worse than the shrink wrap itself is the dreaded label sticked on the top. If you have a good method, you might leave the CD case sticker free. You take a sigh of relief, and open up the CD case. You plop the CD in the CD player or CD-Rom drive and start playing from the start. Man, does that sound good. You open up the CD insert and unfold it to discover that it is actually a mini-poster of the band. Now you have something new to pin up on your wall, but you wouldn't want to disembowel your CD case, so lets just keep it in there.

After a few good listens, you take the CD out, put it back in the case, and place it neatly on your shelf of CDs. New CD meet old CDs. Old CDs meet new CD. Amongst the diverse collection, it seems to be a pretty welcoming environment. Your new CD will fit in just fine. Look at all those CDs. Isn't it a pretty sight? Now take care of them, or they won't let you play them anymore. It would be a shame.

This is how I view CDs. While many people may neglect all the neccesary steps it takes to purchase a CD, I do not. When you are willing to do all of this for a 14-track album, you know you have endowed yourself with a kind of commitment that could last forever. They take up space in your house, but you can deal with that, because they provide you with beautiful music that can soothe your soul. Or rock your world. Or pump up the jams. Or shake your booty. Whatever it is, the commanding qualities of the music leaves you satisfied.

I lost count a while ago, but I believe my CD collection has reached the 100's and very possibly 200's. I've been forced to buy another CD rack to contain all of my little plastic beauties. I'm proud to be the owner of many great CDs, some that I have listened to many times, some that I have only listened to a few times. However many times I have listened to any given CD, I am satisfied to give a home to a little piece of every band. 311, Frank Zappa, Incubus, They Might Be Giants, and Weezer have started to invest greatly in the space I provide.

Buying a full album is very different from buying an individual song. To some extent, I think buying an individual song does a disservice to the artist. We no longer live in a music world where there are only a few singles and the rest filler.

Many albums on the market nowadays are full in quality throughout the entire length. Any They Might Be Giants album is full of songs that you can listen to over and over again with no problem. Radiohead's OK Computer is an exemplary example of a great album. Every single song creates the whole that is OK Computer. It's a hard feat to make every other song dependent on each other, but when it does happen, it's a very beautiful and euphoric event for the listener.

Lets consider Grandaddy's final album, Just Like The Fambly Cat. What a remarkable way to end a band. Just Like The Fambly Cat is one of my favorite albums, simply because the entire album seems to be a great departure of the band. No one has ever said goodbye better than Grandaddy. The entire album is the band's last chance to show everyone what they can bring to the table.

After the intro sadly squeaks and looks for the band that is Grandaddy, "Jeez Louise" kicks in with loud strumming guitars, distorted synth, and Jason Lytle harping a strong narrative to reassure his fans that Grandaddy is going to leave with a great bang. The whole album is a rollercoaster of emotions with the punky "50%", the confused "Where I'm Anymore", the encouraging "Campershell Dreams", and the uplifting "Elevate Myself". The order of the tracks is fondly poetic, finishing off with an untitled hidden track that plays a cover of Electric Light Orchestra's "Shangri-La". Goodbye, Grandaddy. It's been a grand voyage.

Grandaddy is one of the many modern bands that have managed to great full-quality albums. With quality such as this, there is no excuse to go onto iTunes and buy a single song. It would be a crime to do this with any music from The Polyphonic Spree. Radiohead? The Decemberists? The Unicorns? Animal Collective? Don't even think about it, pal. Go out to your local music store now and make a worthwhile endeavor to adopt some new music into your family. If we allow the physical distribution of music to come to an end, it will never come back. May we never reach this cruel fate.