Physical Media
What do you when you love stuff, but it doesn't really love you back?
I’ve recently made a big concession— I’ve made the move to my primary reading space being an eReader; specifically, I’ve been reading using a Kindle.
Why, you might be asking? Why, after all these years of collecting books and amassing physical media have you decided to go this route?
Well, it’s a confluence of things. I’m trying to not take up as much space, it’s more cost-effective (especially for more niche books), and it’s easier to keep the eReader with me than carrying a book or books. I feel very strange about it and I have to fight the urge to go to the bookstore and buy hard copies of… well just about everything. That said, I have found it’s made me read a little bit more than I might otherwise (as the Kindle is a little easier to carry around and bring with me wherever I go and when I may have a free moment).
Now, I certainly understand and appreciate the importance of physical media, especially regarding things that are pulled from distribution (you hear these dystopian anecdotes about movies being pulled from streaming services, while obviously the person who owns the film in some physical form continues to have access), but it’s a compromise I’m willing to make. I’ve already made it to some degree with my music (my largest musical “collection” is my Mp3s, and I’ve significantly downsized my vinyl record collection). I’m also not even addressing the problematic aspects of the Kindle, which comes to us through Amazon and all of the baggage and problems that comes along with that (that’s something that could be a whole book, not just an aside in pone post). There is a twinge of sadness in making this shift. Something about it that doesn’t feel quite right or normal.
But it also makes
So I’ve been thinking a lot about physical media and how important it is (or was) to me. I’ve also been thinking a lot about this with the news coming out of Los Angeles and the horrifically destructive wildfires. Two people I know and follow (S.W. Lauden, writer behind the awesome power pop-focused newsletter Remember the Lighting and Yasi Salek, host of the immensely entertaining and informative podcast Bandsplain) lost not just their homes in the fires but their collections of that physical media I love and revere so much. Books, albums, movies, memorabilia, merchandise, all of it gone.
While I obviously empathize with anyone who was harmed and affected in any way by these terrible fires, hearing these stories about people who love the kinds of things I do as much as I do… and then to hear that those things were destroyed, it really hit me hard. This piece by Lauden was a real heartbreaker to read and think about:
I’ve also been noticing Sean Fennessey of The Ringer and lover of physical media (especially blu-rays).
So, honestly, I don’t really know what I’m trying to say here. It’s a love letter to physical media, it’s sharing the sad stories of those I follow who lost that physical media as a result of the Los Angeles wildfires, and it’s a meditation on when we decide to do what makes the most sense even if it’s not really what we want. Maybe it’s not the time when I need to be living in a library/record shop/video rental store, as much as I might want to.
A compromise I've adopted is: I digitized all the vinyl records I'd ever want to listen to again, as FLAC files. Then I sold most on Discogs. The CD's are all on FLAC, too, and it all fits on my phone.
Oh, but what about a fire, you ask? I have a copy stored in a safe deposit box. You COULD store it in the cloud, but that gets expensive. Merely having another copy away from your house is probably good enough.
I’ve been wrestling with this a lot as well— specifically with books. I like my Kindle Paperwhite (it fits perfectly in the side pocket of my work pants), but share your concerns about Amazon vs indie booksellers, etc.