I'm still going through my CD library and ripping as much music as possible into my iTunes. Lots of great songs that I've never heard before randomly come up and play. That makes for all the hours I've spent loading CDs to be ripped.
Of course, this gets me to thinking about the true effects of music more in a digital setting instead of a physical setting.
I can recall where I got almost all of my CDs. When, where, how -- I have some kind of story. With MP3s, I have less stories, but what matters more is that I still like the music.
It's nice knowing that I don't have to wait in long lines, ask people to set aside a copy for me to buy later in the day, or stay up until midnight to purchase an album. Those days are done and saved for stories to tell to younger generations that get into music. Stories that I hope don't sound like crotchety tales of "When I was your age," but rather friendly, by-the-way mentions.
Something I'm very happy to see gone is the lack of final album tracks. You know, fifteen minutes of silence so you could hear some blow-off of a hidden track? If I ever play DJ to friends or family and somebody really wants to hear Ash's "Darkside Lightside," I don't plan on playing it the whole way through to hear the members of Ash puking their guts up. The same goes for the final track of Mastodon's Blood Mountain. Sorry guys, I'm not waiting all twenty-five minutes to hear a joke with effects pedals and vocals.
I enjoy having all my music available at the click of a button, but I'd prefer to remain the archivist who keeps physical copies around just in case. You never know when a CD you ripped didn't rip correctly. And boy would it suck if you realized that when you sold all your CDs.