In Defense of the CD

I expected David Bowie's death to make me nostalgic, but not this way.Like many people, I spent the days after his passing relistening to Bowie records I hadn't played in years. One night, it felt time to revisit Low, his 1977 plunge into Berlin weirdness. I plugged in my swanky new wireless boombox, called up the album on a streaming service and, as I'd done numerous times before, prepared to be enveloped by sound. Instead, I was swallowed up in a digital nightmare. Whether it was the wireless