CDs are back in my life and no, I’m not joking. Here’s why I started buying CDs again, what I’m loving about it, and why the skip button is officially on a break.
It Started With One CD (Okay, Three)
I didn’t plan to start buying CDs again. Honestly, it felt like a mild regression, like buying low-rise jeans or signing up for a Hotmail account. But then I saw a few of my old favourite albums at a flea market. CHF 2 each. Complete with the little booklets I used to study like sacred texts. And just like that, I was holding all my teenage moods in plastic jewel cases.
Naturally, I bought three. Just to “see how it feels.” Only after I got home did I realise — I don’t even own a CD player anymore. Except, wait. The Xbox. My trusty, mostly-dusty Xbox still has a disc drive. So yes, the next thing I knew, I was loading a CD into my gaming console like it was the year 2006 and I was waiting for the dial-up to connect. The music started. I didn’t skip. I didn’t shuffle. I just… listened.
And honestly? It kind of blew my mind.
The Joy of the Physical (Insert ‘That’s What She Said’ Joke Here)
There’s something comforting about holding music in your hands. The click of the case. The smell of paper and plastic. The cover art that’s actually big enough to see. It’s not just about nostalgia—it’s about experience. You don’t just scroll past an album when it’s sitting on your shelf, making eye contact like, “Hello. Remember me?”
Booklets! Remember those? Lyrics printed in fonts you squinted at for hours, awkward artist photos, thank-you notes to people you’ve never heard of. These things mattered. And weirdly, they still do. There’s a connection in holding something that streaming can’t quite replicate.
Slower, Louder, Better
Listening to a CD feels slower. More grounded. There’s no algorithm yelling at me to try this next. No autoplay pulling me away before track three is done. I’m there with the full album, not just one song with 38 seconds of attention span.
And then there’s the sound. It’s not perfect, it’s real. Warm, a little raw, totally alive. Somehow louder without feeling aggressive. I don’t know the science. I just know it feels like music again.
It’s Not Just Nostalgia (Mostly, But Not Only)
Sure, there’s nostalgia. That can’t be denied. But there’s also something satisfying about returning to a format that doesn’t depend on Wi-Fi or subscription models or terms and conditions you didn’t read. CDs are reliable. Solid. They don’t crash mid-song because your phone decided to update.
And honestly? They’ve aged well. Unlike some fashion trends. (Looking at you, ultra-thin eyebrows.)
The Thrill of the Hunt
One of the weird joys of buying CDs again is finding them. Not scrolling. Searching. In real life. At thrift stores, flea markets, dusty corners of bookshops. It’s like a treasure hunt for grown-ups who still have a little pirate energy inside them.
You don’t know what you’ll find. You’ll leave with something you didn’t know you wanted. And suddenly you’re listening to The Cranberries on repeat and wondering why you ever stopped.
The idea isn’t to be impressive. It’s to be present. And maybe—on a good day—slightly amused.
When You Buy It, You Play It
This is a big one. With streaming, I’d start an album, get distracted, and skip to something else after a verse and a half. With CDs? I commit. I don’t want to get up and change the disc after every song. I mean, I could, but I won’t. That effort turns into presence.
I sit. I listen. I stay. Which honestly feels like a small act of rebellion in 2025.
Practical Bonus Points
CDs don’t show you ads. They don’t recommend “tracks you might also like based on your deepest insecurities.” They just play music. No buffering. No login. No monthly fee.
Also:
- They still work in old cars (like mine).
- They survive bad moods and spilled coffee.
- They don’t disappear when your streaming service loses a license deal.
- And they look very cool in small, alphabetized stacks on bookshelves.
What I’ve Re-Learned About Music
I forgot how much I used to sit with music. How much it shaped my thoughts, moods, even how I wrote in my diary (yes, it was dramatic). CDs remind me of that stillness. That intentionality. I don’t skip the weird tracks anymore. Sometimes they become my favourites.
Albums tell stories. And I want to hear the whole thing again—not just the songs everyone already knows.
Final Thoughts – Less Swipe, More Play
So yeah. I’m buying CDs again. I listen to full albums. I read liner notes. I let the music play, even when it gets weird halfway through.
And honestly? It’s kind of wonderful. Not perfect. Not trendy. But wonderfully real.
Also, side note: one of the first CDs I bought? Slipknot. Because apparently my early-twenties self is still lurking somewhere, slightly calmer, but still weirdly soothed by double bass drums and controlled chaos. Honestly? Still hits.
Your Turn – Still Got a CD Collection?
Tell me: Have you gone back to physical music too? Do you still have a box of CDs hiding under your bed or did you never leave them in the first place?
What’s the first album you’d rebuy if you saw it again in the wild?
Drop your musical confessions below. And if you’re judging me, well, you probably haven’t listened to Jagged Little Pill on a rainy Tuesday in a while.