In the age of streaming listening is continuous rather than discrete. The absence of a physical product creates a relationship that is far more fluid than it was before in the age of vinyl or CD.

The absence of a physical product removes the need for albums or, to be more precise, the need for a predefined order of songs

Continuous listening is always on, continuous listening effectively means not listening anymore.

I have a backlog of 6000 albums, all released after 2012, all with high rating, will I ever listen to those?

I lost the ability to select. The value of all music is more or less the same (unless we stick to brand value)

I know where I was when I first heard Blood Sugar Sex magik, or Exit Planet Dust, or OK Computer. All classic albums. Where was I first heard A Hero’s Death (arguably a masterpiece, more about the surprising link between Fontaines D.C. and Joy Division later…)

I’ve lost CDs, records, tapes. Friends borrowed without returning, some got lost after parties (one of the reasons I labeled all with my initials). I still miss most dearly King Crimsons’s debut album and my father’s copy of the White album (imported form US at the end of the 70s). In retun I borrowed without returning the first two albums of The Sound

In 1982 I bought my first record, Combat Rock by The Clash. I didn’t dare to play it in front of my father, too scared he would comment on the noise, the absence of structure, Joe Strummer’s raw voice and everything else old(er) people find insulting in music that is not their own.

My most cherished tapes were the result of endless listening sessions in the basement of Vincent, against the backdrop of 1000s of Classic records, proud collection of his father, who would no doubt also disapprove of what we were listening to…Brian Eno & David Byrne, Bauhaus, New Order, Public Image Limited, Cabaret Voltaire, Clock DVA, Frank Zappa…

The apparent suicide of my best friend in primary school witl forever be linked with Bowie’s Low, the album he introduced us too (in a split-level living room, very 70s)

I heard London Calling, or more importantly read the lyrics of London Calling, for the first time at Berend’s, courtesy to Michiel, his older brother, who had an amazing collection of records, including Au Pairs, still my favourite post-punk band.

The Velvet Underground & Nico I heard first on my Walkman, playing it over and over again during an eight hour holiday ride.

The absence of a physical product removes memory; without discrete events there is nothing to remember, the shock of hearing something for the first time is still there, but the exact situation, the memory, the connection with a physical event gradually disappears, and some of the magic of our lives disappears with it.

Looking back is the privilege of age, having memories isn’t.