Disposing music streaming

This wasn’t a sudden day-to-night change. Starting at the beginning of this year, or maybe even earlier, I felt the need to listen to music differently, even though I didn’t really know how.

For probably the last eight years I’ve been using one of the major music streaming platforms. It was a no-brainer: cheap, endless music, infinite discovery. Why wouldn’t I? And yet, here I am, stepping away from what seems like such a good deal.

Yes, having access to all the music you want is great. I’ve been listening to music almost all day, every day. I discovered countless artists, enjoyed an absurd amount of music, and in a way added soundtracks to many moments of my life. I was ingesting everything I could. I even remember one year where I hit something like 160k minutes of music listened.

Listening, though? I’m not sure that’s the right word. I was consuming music, but not really listening to it. And that’s the first issue.

Lately I started asking myself: what do I even listen to now? I felt completely blocked. I couldn’t listen to music at all. It was like I was paralyzed, rejecting all the music I had bulimically consumed over the years.

Looking back, I realize that I had already been exposed to another way of listening. For the past few years I’d occasionally see videos of people repairing old iPods and using them as their daily music players, talking about more conscious listening habits. Every time I thought, “That’s a great idea, I should try that someday.” Eventually, that day arrived.

There was just one problem: I didn’t have any music.

Or did I? At the beginning of this year, almost randomly, I decided to start buying CDs of the music I like. Partly to actually support the artists, partly to own a physical copy of the music. I started with Thousands of Evils by Vildhjarta. I never expected to find a CD by that band in my hometown, in a random CD shop. When I saw it, I bought it immediately. Ten bucks come on, that’s an easy decision.

At that point I decided I wanted to build a CD collection. Even without owning a CD player. I wanted music that was truly mine, and I wanted the best possible quality without spending as much as I would on vinyl.

This is where it all really starts.

I ordered a new battery online to bring my old iPod Video back to life. At the same time, I found a portable CD player so I could listen to music with my headphones, or connect it to a speaker using a 3.5mm jack (I’m currently using an old iPod Hi-Fi). Just by listening to a few albums this way, I immediately felt a difference in the experience.

I won’t even talk about audio quality, even though uncompressed music sounds great. What really changed things was everything around it: taking the CD out of the case, reading the lyrics, looking at the artwork inside the sleeve, physically touching the media. All of that made a huge difference.

One of my favorite CDs I own is 6 Feet Beneath the Moon.

By choosing this approach, I’m allowing myself to truly discover new music without being constantly flood-blasted by AI playlists and artists promoted by algorithms that now control a huge part of the market. I can listen without a subscription. I own the music.

It’s probably not the cheapest way to listen, but a lot of music can be bought second-hand for very little, and new CDs are available on many platforms, sometimes even with small discounts. And honestly, the time spent in a record store isn’t even comparable to endless scrolling on a streaming app.

For this reason, I also wanted a way to keep track of my growing music library. While talking to a friend, I saw him using an app called Discogs. I ended up creating my own account, where I can catalog my collection and slowly build a wantlist as well, useful not only for me, but also to help friends decide what kind of gift they could get me.

If you’re interested in my collection, you can find it here

Stepping away from streaming doesn’t mean rejecting convenience or nostalgia-hunting for the sake of it. For me, it’s about slowing down and reconnecting with music in a more intentional way. Owning music, choosing what to listen to, and actually spending time with an album has brought back a sense of curiosity and focus that I didn’t realize I had lost.

This isn’t about saying one way is better than another. It’s just about finding a way that makes music feel meaningful again. And right now, this feels right.