cd binge therapy

If you've been paying attention to anything I've written (it's ok, I don't pay attention to what I write either) then you'd already know that I am a music junkie in the most absolute "in need of help" sense.

Critically requiring some retail therapy to ease my pain and suffering, I run off to flirt with those lovely folks at cduniverse. I started off this spree with the need to pick up the new hot chip and futureheads album (just some stuff I've missed out on buying).. Soon after I pick up those two, a neurotic high pitched alarm goes off in my head launching me into an exercise of trying to remember names of bands and albums I want. Wait wait wait what was the new band from the 'death from above 1979' guy called again? Mstrkrft, oh yeah, that.. click click click click click.. this goes on for a bit, click click click click.. then like that full feeling you get from gulping down a big glass of water, my cart swells up to the point of it breaking into the eligible for free shipping territory..

Loosening my belt and undoing the top button on my jeans, I continue on with my clicking.. hey I wonder if yo la tengo have anything new.. hmm.. indeed they do.. click click click have les savvy fav done anything? No, damn.. my quest adjusts itself into buying what I feel like listening to… I could use something electronic and chilled out and I really feel like some good new soulful music.. research research research, the new zero 7, sure why not.. click click click.. something soulful, Anthony david? Click click click.. since I’m here I should beef up the French house collection.. De Crecy’s back? He never left? Dang.. click click click..

Before I know it, I'm arranging payment and delivery for 32 cds I cannot live without out, that I would die without, that my life would mean nothing without.. I need them, I want them, I love them.. Finalizing my transaction and then almost immediately kicking myself, I start remembering some more albums I've been meaning to get.. Scribbled down for my upcoming purchase.

Then comes the hard part, the waiting.. I try to listen to my current cds, but the impatient feeling lingering around in the back of my head is making me disregard the good music piping through the speakers, and i long for something else.. a day or two later I get notification that everything's shipped to my international courier po box – yes yes yes, not long now.. this dj kicks compilation sounds so stale right now, and if I throw on another wacky tune from islands I think I'm going to start fantasizing about the muppets and miss piggy. a couple of days more, I get notification that my stuff's arrived in Bahrain and I can go and pick it up.. yakpot..

Trying to keep a lid on the bubbling excitement at the international courier’s establishment, they check my number and bring forth the larger than normal brown cardboard box.. b-i-fuqin-g-o.. yeah you ring me up, I'll just check up on my cds, ohh you need to look at the tag on the box? i just want to make sure they're all, one sec.. kkkhrrrriiissshhhhh. Before the person behind the counter has a chance to look at the box, and the people in line behind, I’ve got my suit jacket draped across the counter, I've sunk the teeth of my car keys into the masking tape and have pulled the flaps open.. at first sight, I do nothing but let out a satisfied haarruummphhh.. the ferociousness of Hernán Cortés burns through me, as I hoard my box and lay claim to this Aztec gold.. the sight of these cds all neatly accounted for in this box crack a grin on my face and a chubb in my pants…

What to listen to? which ones to pick? My fingers dance along the cd cases, my eyes dart across the cover art, my tongue licks my lips, I’m just about ready... the possibility of unearthing the next big tune in my “top all time tunes list ever” makes this purchase, the wait, the everything, all worth it.. In the middle of this rush, I lose myself in between paying for the delivery and dazedly walking back to la voiture. Once in the car, I begin tearing off the plastic wrappers off my cds, a task I no longer consider frustrating... I have perfected this method in which I tear off the wrapper with expert guile (never timed myself, but I’m pretty sure I can remove a cd from a plastic wrapped case in less than 5 seconds) , roll it into a ball, and then using the tape bit from the cd to keep it all securely balled up.. making for a quick headers and volleys tournament...

Based solely on the cover artwork, I pick 6 cds to load into my changer. I start my open ear and hope to bear fruit from my shot in the dark cd binge session. So far so good, the French house beef up has been successful, the sophomore albums purchased have not disappointed. The mstrkrft has been pretty amazing, the frames cool too, and I’m really digging the new yo la tengo. fuqme, retail therapy really does work..

Just so we’re all on the same page, receiving new cds means you can forget about asking to borrow them. I will not lend them to my friends, I will not lend them to my kin I will certainly not lend them to green eggs and ham – not until I’ve had my fill of them. Andy Ward taught me that it’s totally fine to hoard your library and be an ogre about it, that’s how he still has all his cds. If you meet certain criteria in my book then I will possibly make you a copy or you could fall into the list of people with borrowing privileges (highly coveted). A certain someone never bothered to return my sasha & digweed northern exposures 3 (the impossible to find European version that had one extra track from the American edition, the original remixed “silence” tune from Delirium, not the one you can easily find on some bullshit compilation, the original progressive track, that no one can find anymore except illegally downloaded), and since then, I’ve put my guard up – I just couldn’t let it slide...

You don’t even want to know what happens to me at a record store…