Growing up, my most prized possessions were my books and my music CDs. Heaven take mercy on you if you failed to return either one. A borrowed CD was a small act of trust. Back then, music ownership meant something tactile. You could feel it in the weight of a jewel case, in the flipping through liner notes, in the faint scratches you so desperately tried to avoid. There was even that brief mechanical pause, the soft whirr as the CD slotted into the player and spun itself to speed, just enough t