I’m moving from Brazil to Canada this monday and we decided to travel as light as possible. This means, among many other things, that we’re not taking CDs, DVDs and books that we can easily buy again. This also meant I had to get rid of them in some way, so I packed ‘em all and went to a thrift store nearby.

Mind you that most CDs were already packed, since I had them all ripped (the worthy ones, that is) until last week. So I’m not losing anything besides a bunch of plastic and printed paper, right?

So why did I cry like a baby when I started taking the boxes out?

I looked at the spines with their recognizable arts and automatically started to remember how I felt when I listened to each CD until the laser practically bore a hole through it. I remembered my friends in college, the days when I was playing with my band almost every week in Rio, the moment I decided to move out of my parents’ house, assorted fights with ex-girlfriends and all that cheesy stuff.

But it’s just plastic! You still have the music! Stop crying, you fool!

I wonder if downloads, with all their convenience, can create this kind of attachment. The truth is that people my age still see music as something you had to pay money for – which more often than not meant some kind of sacrifice for a broken student like I was.

I’m in no way saying we must go back to LPs or that downloads are evil (far from that!). What I’m saying is I’m an old fart who still has the pavlovian conditioning to get emotional when I separate myself from a piece of plastic that not only contains, but represents the music I used to listen to.

See you in Toronto. Stay classy!

(If you’re getting this through the feed, see it here.)

I’m a simple padawan in the found sounds department. Period.

Baratinho (R$ 5) e cedo (20:00), pra ninguém reclamar que é durante a semana. A festa Mojo Club acontece no Tapas, que fica na Rua Augusta 1246.

O meu set vai ser basicamente um BitBang! ao vivo. Eu vou tocar rock, eletrônicos, coisas retrô e o terror – se possível.

Yep. It became this:

Gerador Zero – Washing Machine
(Right-click to save | MP3 192 kb/s | 5.3 MB)

And a happy new year to you too, sir.