Do you remember Musica? I do. As young as I am, I do remember Musica with some nostalgia. The massive one, where the @home in Canal Walk now stands, was a delight to me compared to my otherwise tiny Musica in Vredenburg: so many games, TV shows, CDs and movies to choose from. I loved browsing both stores, a hobby of window shopping I continue today with bookshops.
The physical store is intimate, maybe not as much with a massive conglomerate, but there is some nonetheless. There are staff members you interact with; they get to know your tastes. They are humans who might even be willing to strike up a conversation with you. It was a moment of humanity in a third space, limited as it was, that allowed us to connect with each other.
That moment of interaction, that moment of social intimacy, is gone now in the movie, TV or game scene. Perhaps not entirely in gaming for now — BT Games still exists, though for how much longer I have no idea.
Now you can stream your movies and TV shows, but with the tangled web of streaming services and subscription costs that each service incurs per month, it’s a bit much. I find myself realising just how much we have lost.
We don’t own the movies and TV shows we rent. Games are a mixed bag. Ubisoft would have loved gamers to get used to not owning games anymore, and thus, Ubisoft is getting used to seeing its share value plummet. Steam allows you access to the gaming license you buy, so even if the game goes off the store, you can still play it. Which makes me happy for my copy of Spec Ops: The Line. GOG is fully DRM-free, allowing for greater ownership of games.
But all of this tries to fix a problem of (in this case) game ownership that we had already solved with physical media. While it is a good solution, it is shaped by industry trends toward the instant and the supposedly most convenient. The imbalance of power regarding ownership is now heavily in favour of the corporations. You don’t own the movies you watch on Disney+. Once you cancel your membership, no more Pixar for you. The same applies if Spotify goes under for whatever reason — boom, you have no more music.
I do credit Spotify for helping me discover my music tastes. I would likely never have discovered all the Euro metal bands I now enjoy if it weren’t for it. But with the absence of ownership, with nothing tangible to show for my collection — not to mention the terrible rates at which artists are paid on the platform — I wish I had the ability to buy their albums like I might have done at Musica.
I know that not everyone can store all the entertainment they want. But this can be a good thing. Instead of having a seemingly infinite amount of content that you will never watch and never own, you would need to pick what you truly want. Which makes the purchase all the sweeter. Having that record, that game, that movie under your arm as you walk out of the store always felt better than just opening Netflix. Too many options aren’t worth the so-called convenience you get in exchange for lack of ownership; we shouldn’t accept it.
I am heartened by the fact that my generation and those younger are going to stores again. They, much like me, yearn for that connection in society we once had.
