My Spotify playlists are almost 105 hours of music—more than four days of continuous rhythms, beats and chants. This vast library, once carted by moving vans, now fits in the palm of my hand.

But what have I lost?

As I wobbly navigate this new musical landscape, I can’t help but notice the fading echoes of vinyl’s crackle, the CD’s crystal clarity, and the hiss of cassette tapes. These once-cherished formats have been relegated to the realm of collectors and enthusiasts, their extinction seemingly inevitable in the face of digital convenience.

The tactile experience of thumbing through album covers, piercing a needle on a record, or rewinding a mix tape to the beginning of a favorite song—these rituals have largely disappeared.

In their place, we have instant access to virtually any song ever recorded, at any time, anywhere. It’s a music lover’s dream, but one that comes at the cost of permanence.

In this era, our relationship with music has become more fleeting. Playlists shuffle endlessly, algorithms suggest new tracks, and we skip through songs with careless abandon.

The album as an art form struggles to maintain its relevance in a world of singles and curated mixes.

Yet, amidst this digital deluge, there’s a glimmer of hope. Music, in its essence, remains as powerful and moving as ever. The medium may have changed, but the message—the raw emotion, the shared experiences, the cultural touchstones—endures.

In fact, the accessibility of streaming has democratized music creation and consumption, allowing more voices to be heard and more ears to listen than ever before. (That the industry screwe artists is a creative universal and another column.)

Moreover, just as Broadway enthusiasts keep the spirit of theater alive, a dedicated cohort of audiophiles continues to champion the cause of high-fidelity sound and immersive listening experiences.

They remind us that there’s more to music than mere convenience—that sometimes, the ritual of listening is as important as the sound itself.

Here, music takes on an almost ethereal quality. It’s everywhere and nowhere, always accessible yet never quite possessed. But perhaps this is fitting for an art form that has always been, at its core, invisible and intangible.

As we stream our way through this brave new world of music, let’s not forget to pause, listen deeply, and allow ourselves to be moved.

For in those moments, whether they last four days or four minutes, we touch something timeless—a reminder that while formats may change, the power of music to connect, inspire, and transform is eternal.