I'm not sure how many CDs I have, but am certain it's into the hundreds (not record-breaking but substantial). I have them fairly neatly organized in the order of purchase or acquisition by artist. Basically, Guns 'n Roses comes first because I got the band's CDs first, and any new CDs I get from Guns 'n Roses are added to the end of those CDs rather than me grouping each band's CDs by title or date of release.
I guess it's a bit like the scene in "High Fidelity" where Dick visits Rob is his apartment just after he's taken all the LPs off his shelves and is in the process of coming up with a new organizational system. Alphabetical? Chronological? "Nope … Autobiographical."
When I first got CDs as part of a for-the-time-massive Christmas present from my high school boyfriend—the stereo I still own (whose remote I've only had to change the batteries on twice in about 15 years) and about a dozen new and used CDs—it made sense to keep the CDs in the order I got them and add any new purchases onto the end. I did contemplate changing that order when I moved and had to box the whole works up but realized my way still makes the most sense to me so kept it.
The term "autobiographical" is a pretty good description for the way I organize my CDs, each time I search for a disc in one of the two shoe shelves I repurposed for CD storage, I remember the time and place I bought it. For instance, Everclear's beautiful and underrated "So Much for the Afterglow" is right alongside the "Romy & Michelle" soundtrack and The Bangles' best of because I bought all of them on a trip to Rhino Records my junior year of college, and I remember that because I used to play those CDs on the player in the school newspaper office on deadline nights.
"Autobiographical" is also a pretty good way to describe the music in my life. At this moment, I'm listening to U2's "All That You Can't Leave Behind," a CD I've listened to well over 100 times since I first bought it used at Rhino in 2001, so on every listen that year pours over me, the job I had, the route I took to work, the Elevation show at Staples Center that changed my life, the Elevation Tour DVD I watched when I housesat for my brother while he was on his honeymoon, the friends I made, the outfits I wore, the problems I had, the tears I cried, the color of the sky on certain days, the time I spent on online forums, and on and on.
And that's just one of the CDs I have. I know I could easily come up with similar lists and connections and memories for every other CD I own, which I why I came up with the idea a while back of listening to every CD I own, in order, and doing weekly updates on my progress and reactions for this blog. The idea has kicked around for more than a year but hasn't landed until now, now seems to be the right time to dive back in, rediscover lost gems, reconnect with old favorites, reconsider the growers and maybe even resell a few that haven't stood up to the test of time.
It will take a bit of discipline on my part but I think this will be a fun, challenging, insightful and emotional experience—a bit time travel, a bit self-analysis, a bit of an excuse to crank some amazing music. I won't get to U2 until the very end (my three largest artist collections are for U2, Madonna and Elvis Costello, so those three are pulled aside from the rest of my collection, though I do still add new CDs in the order of purchase rather than chronologically or alphabetically for those three artists) but it's a nice treat to have waiting for me in the distance, especially with headphones. I've never before listened to "All That You Can't Leave Behind" with headphones and, wow, I've missed so much—guitar parts, backing vocals, keyboard flourishes. Amazing.
Even after so many listens to a much-loved CD, there are so many more things to discover. I'm excited to discover the mysteries and hidden treasures in all of my other CDs, too.
For your enjoyment, the record collection organization scene from "High Fidelity." I find it quite "comforting."
