Blindography

No algorithm. No metadata. No curated playlist. Just rows of plastic spines, most unremarkable, some misprinted, all abandoned. Welcome to the archaeology of sound: the blind dig through forgotten CDs.

This isn’t about nostalgia—it’s about intuition. In a digital era where everything is streamed, tagged, and pre-digested, digging through 2€ bins becomes an act of resistance. There are no guarantees here. The covers lie. The names are generic. The genres bleed. And yet, buried beneath layers of eurotrash compilations and obsolete pop lies the potential for revelation. An ambient masterpiece mislabeled as lounge. A lost techno burner misfiled under “metal.” A burned CDr from a forgotten netlabel.

You pick by feel. By typography. By mood. By the grain of the plastic. Your ear, for once, doesn’t lead—it follows.

This photo isn’t just a documentation of inventory. It’s a portrait of that moment before sound: when the only thing louder than music is curiosity. It’s a quiet, sacred ritual for those who still believe that discovery isn’t a playlist—it’s a risk.