Not to download, like an MP3 file, but to stream whenever and wherever you want. It gives you authorship over those playlists, control over those playlists, and provides you free access to nearly all of the music you might desire. Once you’ve let it suck in all of your data, it lets you create your own playlists, which are basically just lists of song names, or data.

It lets you import all of your local songs on your computer (in my case, 10,000 or so) as well as all of your iTunes and Windows playlists. Spotify gives you the illusion that you have a music collection. Not a public lie, but a lie that we’re all buying into nonetheless. Though its convenience is unmatched, Spotify is designed around an illusion. It won’t be easy and I don’t know where to go – all I know is that I need to get out. Especially considering that I’m listening to The Mowgli’s on Spotify as I type this! But I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite. I know what you’re thinking: You’re probably shaking your computer monitor (or iPad) violently asking why I’d possibly want to give up a service that lets you stream as much Lady Gaga, Nickelback, and Smash Mouth as you want?! I mean how can you turn down the ability to listen to Bananarama’s full catalog? These are good questions. But after 400 odd days of streaming an unlimited number of full albums without buying them, creating countless playlists, sending dozens of songs, and playing that music on any device I pleased (for the $10 a month premium fee), I’ve decided I need to quit. In many ways, it was a fantastic year (the world didn’t even end). It’s been a year now, and not a terrible year either. Lugging around my 90GB of music and manually copying MP3s from one device to another had grown tiresome. I silently chose to leave behind my decade’s worth of MP3s and go all in on streaming. Fitbit Versa 3ĭenys Prykhodov/ShutterstockAbout one year ago, I decided to commit to Spotify.

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