At the moment of remorse, I am thinking of a Hassinen machine record on my record shelf, writes Jussi Lehmusvesi, HS’s cultural journalist.
Over the weekend, the heart took a few laps.
“People who dump their CDs in the trash make a bad mistake,” wrote a colleague Miska Rantanen In his Saturday essay In Helsingin Sanomat.
At first I thought CDs had become a collectible trend, and they would pay Moomin-like sums of money for them.
There was no question about that.
In her essay, Rantanen anticipates the possible renaissance of CDs and the death of streaming services.
I implemented CD disposal operation quite accurately a year ago. At the time, our apartment was undergoing a major renovation, and I was re-evaluating the need for a variety of things.
Both the clay clumps made by the children and the CDs went.
As well as the last laser disc player in the house.
Project was by no means painless. Over more than three decades, the record shelf had accumulated 400-500 records and a large pile of its own identity.
On the shelf were Zen Café, who had been listening to graduates at the university, and the cardboard-covered self-published rarities acquired at gigs.
On the other hand, I’ve never been the ones who hippo their records drunk and spend their weekends putting their collection in a new order.
For me, music has always been a commodity.
Already when I took the first pile of disks to the condominium’s waste room, I felt a surprising relief. It felt like tipping the plates on the recycling shelf would have freed me from the ballast of the past and I would have closed the waste room as a new person on the Metal Door.
Later, the feeling is strengthened. I had used Spotify occasionally before disposing of the CDs, but when the physical recordings disappeared, its features opened up in all their richness.
Particularly useful in finding new music I noticed the radio feature of the service. Spotify radio creates a collection of songs based on the selected artist, for example, and thus leads to the same type of music.
Through “Yona Radio” I found, among other things Aili Järvelän. Through “Aili Järvelä Radio” I proceeded to Miss Olga, with the help of “Miss Olga Radio” Ylva Haruun and so on. Following the chain has been found, among other things Jukka Nousiainen, Topi Saha, Owls, Rosita Luu, Eleonoora Rosenholm and Centsimo Eemus.
According to Spotify, the latter has had 31 listeners a month. I doubt that Centsimo Eemus Spring musicdisc would never have found its way to my record shelf.
Some of the artists have gone straight to favorites, some have been huts, but at least the selection has been more interesting than slapping their own old records.
Contrary to my expectations Spotify has also not diminished the importance of albums. Once all the music is available, I have started listening to the entire production of the artist I found from the first record to the last.
It has been interesting, for example, to listen to how Matti Johannes Koivun production has developed since 2006.
Now, a year later, I wouldn’t take my old record shelf back, even if there was room for it.
I am determined to stay as a new person.
And while when a condominium’s broadband squats are sometimes scary, I shed remorse by recalling one record on my late shelf.
It’s a collection Available today: Hassinen’s machine, which often ended up in the player when I didn’t come up with anything else to listen to.
The plastic shells had broken from falling.
Plastic roses in apple trees stayed to train in place.
Every breath on the record had been listened to a hundred thousand times.
Sticks to the soil.
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