Mid-life crisis by way of owned media 3: 2001

It was a few months before my spring visit to the ancestral abode that my friend Rod had come to visit me, as he was wont to do before picking up his family and moving away to the ass end of the globe (he has assured me he will be back).

Rod had stolen a march on me in terms of divesting himself of the most invasive tentacles of This Digital Life. Streaming video, music and screen time in general, he had been dialing it back for years. However in terms of alternative he has (at the least initially) opted for the more haptic form of audio entertainment. For years now he had been scouring record shops in Berlin and around Europe for good deals and interesting finds. And on this day, he came to my apartment and gushed at me about the used record shop located off the local market square.

I knew of the shop, it prominently featured a mannequin in a Star Wars stormtrooper get up so it was obviously aimed squarely at my demographic. But I had never ventured in, having had thus far, no reason. Now, Rod had taken that step for me, and painted a glowing picture of the great selection at great prices.

So one afternoon, I tucked a bag over my arm like a good German Dad and went to see what all the fuss was about it. And they had a nice selection! Rock was overrepresented, while the hip hop section was a little on the weak side. Likely a feature of the purveyors own tastes. But I was able to unearth four CDs that spoke to my own tastes and the new sense of adventure with which I had endeavored to undertake this project (mainly this meant looking to purchase seminal or classic albums I had not deigned to listen to in my youth and then never thought to commit to once the Time of Abundance fell upon us all). Which is long way of saying I bought London Calling by the Clash, Mama Said Knock You Out by LL Cool J, Use Your Illusion I by Guns n Roses and Befehl Von Ganz Unten by Deichkind.

One of these is not like the others…

All for the princely sum of €15.95. What had once been the average price for a decently popular album pressed to silvery plastic not even 15 years ago. I was quite chuffed with my find, bragging about it to all and my brother-in-law about this great deal I had found. Most reactions (with the except of Rod, bless his little Dutch toes) were those of polite bemusement at the middle-aged man feverishly telling them about how little money they could spend buying something that they mostly got for free. But in search of better deals, I eventually turned on my Personal Pocket Slab and set sail upon the Bay of E.

There are times in a capitalist society, where supply and demand for certain products and services fall into such a state of disequilibrium that if one happens to be a buyer or seller in such a market, one is capable, nay empowered, of committed what feels like entirely legal, brutal highway robbery. I had first experienced this second hand as a scruffy cheeked young man in Boston in 2004, when my friends would come back from the local record store sporting vinyl that was by turns cool, hipster-cool (again, this was 2004), inspired madness or just kind of a joke. The only important thing was that the records were cheap. Dirt cheap. Nowadays, the store commands a premium for its wares, as vinyl has returned as a product for those seeking The Real in a world dictated to ever more by a coven of uncool megalomaniacs who watch your every utterance through your phone to find a better way of selling you rage bait/eating disorders/raw liver (delete as desired).

CDs, judging by the prices I encountered online, are in much a similar state in 2026, as their elder cousin was in 2004. The professional stores will usually offer their wares at around €3.80 with free shipping. Snoop around in the bargain bin of private auctions, and you are liable to find those same albums listed at €1 on their 4th relisting. Stone cold classic albums, sometimes first press limited editions out of Japan can be gotten for the price of a day ticket for public transit. I personally was able to get a Japanese collectors box of the first 10 albums of Metallica for €26. The collected works of Daft Punk, including live albums, were mine for €40. At one point I had to remove the eBay app from my desktop because I couldn’t stop. It was madness.

My buying spree has ebbed of late, my duties as a good little consumer are currently elsewhere (once more a topic for another post). But it seems the universe is not done throwing high quality, disc shaped digital music at me with reckless abandon. It is considered a polite thing to do in Germany, to place unwanted wares on the street corner so that the community might partake in the bounty you no longer want. The box above basically hurled itself at me like a desperate 20-something at the end of a night of clubbing. It had obviously been trying to be subtle, but I am a stubborn beast at the best of times. Regardless, it would have been rude of me not to sample the wares on offer…