I Love CDs
Updated: Dec 3, 2024
By August Edwards
Thoughts on making memories with CDs!
The first CD my dad gave me was a Will Smith album. I was in Kindergarten. The CD was missing its case, so my dad put it in a case that was missing its CD. Because of this, I didn’t know what the tracks were called, and to be honest, it was a little confusing to my five-year-old self. I listened to it on repeat even though I didn’t have any context for the music. Despite the chaos, it meant everything to me because I suddenly was a CD owner.
When Arise Music & Coffee opened (in 2018) and I started spending time there, I quickly accepted the Litter Brain CD (and cassette and t-shirt) that Mike Trujillo offered me from a mysterious merch closet. The title of the album was Nope.
Hearing Nope. for the first time made me feel like I was discovering gravity. I clearly remember that first time listening. I was driving east up Lomas in Albuquerque on a summer evening; the sun was still bright and making everything golden. Had I even passed two traffic lights before two songs had finished? By the time “My Chalice Overflows” played, I was locked in—this punk band was singin about startin your period in your sleep! The bloody song – “I woke up this morning in a pool of my own blood”—was focused, fun, and scary. The next song, “Trashed” (at under a minute-and-a-half long), begins with the snarled lyric “Let’s make cool shit out of trash.” The album is a love letter to resilience and resourcefulness and will forever inspire me.
Arise is closed now, and it’s kind of silly at this point but it feels like a cut that hasn’t healed yet, still stings. If nothing came out of it, I discovered Nope. (and, of course, got to spend invaluable time with Mike).
An experience with a CD can be ephemeral to the point of lasting. Which brings me to the next one I want to mention.
I’d moved back to California to hang out with my little brothers more often, at least for a little bit. It was difficult because I still lived two hours away from them.
So, my brother Rodman had started collecting clothes. He also started recording music videos for his songs, and he had specific ideas for the looks he was going for in each music video. He ordered these pins from Depop, ones to put on his leather jacket and overalls and stuff.
Included in the package was a CD from a SoCal band called Rebirth. Judging from their picture, they were metal. And they were—thrash metal.
Rodman was really eager to listen to the album. He kept asking if I’d listen to it with him and I kept kind of blowing it off. I don’t know why.
And then I was in the middle of writing an album review I’d been putting off (see a theme?), listening to the album at our mom’s kitchen table. I was trying to beat the clock—in Working Mode (a mode I enter like once every few months). That’s when Rodman decided to put on the Rebirth EP.
Right now, I can’t recall anything specific about the album. Except it was fast as hell and I loved listening to it. Rodman sat two feet away from the stereo while listening. I can see him hunched over, staring at the stereo like the musicians themselves were watching and expected his full attention.
I got into the music “scene” at what felt like a geriatric age (20) after growing up playing saxophone and being exposed to pretty decent music. Even more than the music, I found that I love the people playing it. The people are what transform a song into an experience.
Going to a Giants game, I heard “Don’t Stop Believing” in between innings. Sitting in a restaurant, I heard “Africa” by Toto. Two songs I fucking hate that seem to be inescapable in crowded places. It’s a vicious cycle—like, those songs are pervasive because everyone knows them—and after a while it drains your lifeforce.
But how do we find new music? While all the music in the world is literally at my fingertips, that infinite quality sort of complicates things, makes it easier to put off maybe. For someone like me, it’s overwhelming.
It’s a joy to be handed a physical CD and tether yourself to it, if only for one listen through. That’s what it’s all about.
So even though I can’t find Rebirth at all online and I can’t hum any of their tunes (my brother lost their CD), the experience is not lost from my memory. For that reason, I highly recommend giving your CDs to strangers and friends.
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