SuperDrive

We noted earlier this week that time seems to have run out for Apple’s venerable SuperDrive, which was the last (OEM) option available for folks who still needed to read or create optical media on modern Macs. Andrew’s write-up got me thinking: When was the last time any Ars staffers actually burned an optical disc?

Lee Hutchinson, Senior Technology Editor

It used to be one of the most common tasks I’d do with a computer. As a child of the ’90s, my college years were spent filling and then lugging around giant binders stuffed with home-burned CDs in my car to make sure I had exactly the right music on hand for any possible eventuality. The discs in these binders were all labeled with names like “METAL MIX XVIII” and “ULTRA MIX IV” and “MY MIX XIX,” and part of the fun was trying to remember which songs I’d put on which disc. (There was always a bit of danger that I’d put on “CAR RIDE JAMS XV” to set the mood for a Friday night trip to the movies with all the boys, but I should have popped on “CAR RIDE JAMS XIV” because “CAR RIDE JAMS XV” opens with Britney Spears’ “Lucky”—look, it’s a good song, and she cries in her lonely heart, OK?!—thus setting the stage for an evening of ridicule. Those were just the kinds of risks we took back in those ancient days.)

It took a while to try to figure out what the very last time I burned a disc was, but I’ve narrowed it down to two possibilities. The first (and less likely) option is that the last disc I burned was a Windows 7 install disc because I’ve had a Windows 7 install disc sitting in a paper envelope on my shelf for so long that I can’t remember how it got there. The label is in my handwriting, and it has a CD key written on it. Some quick searching shows I have the same CD key stored in 1Password with an “MSDN/Technet” label on it, which means I probably downloaded the image from good ol’ TechNet, to which I maintained an active subscription for years until MS finally killed the affordable version.

But I think the actual last disc I burned is still sitting in my car’s CD changer. It’s been in there so long that I’d completely forgotten about it, and it startled the crap out of me a few weeks back when I hopped in the car and accidentally pressed the “CD” button instead of the “USB” button. It’s an MP3 CD instead of an audio CD, with about 120 songs on it, mostly picked from my iTunes “’80s/’90s” playlist. It’s pretty eclectic, bouncing through a bunch of songs that were the backdrop of my teenage years—there’s some Nena, some Stone Temple Pilots, some Michael Jackson, some Tool, some Stabbing Westward, some Natalie Merchant, and then the entire back half of the CD is just a giant block of like 40 Cure songs, probably because I got lazy and just started lasso-selecting.

It turns out I left CDs the same way I came to them—with a giant mess of a mixtape.

Connor McInerney, Social Media Manager

Like many people, physical media for me is deeply embedded with sentimentality; half the records in my vinyl collection are hand-me-downs from my parents, and every time I put one on, their aged hiss reminds me that my folks were once my age experiencing this music in the same way. This goes doubly so for CDs as someone whose teen years ended with the advent of streaming, and the last CD I burned is perhaps the most syrupy, saccharine example of this media you can imagine—it was a mixtape for the girl I was dating during the summer of 2013, right before we both went to college.

In hindsight this mix feels particularly of its time. I burned it using my MacBook Pro (the mid-2012 model was the last to feature a CD/DVD drive) and made the artwork by physically cutting and pasting a collage together (which I made the mix’s digital artwork by scanning and adding in iTunes). I still make mixes for people I care about using Spotify—and I often make custom artwork for said playlists with the help of Photoshop—but considering the effort that used to be required, the process feels unsurprisingly unsatisfying in comparison.

As for the musical contents of the mix, imagine what an 18-year-old Pitchfork reader was listening to in 2013 (Vampire Weekend, Postal Service, Fleet Foxes, Bon Iver, and anything else you might hear playing while shopping at an Urban Outfitters) and you’ve got a pretty close approximation.