I missed a #blogjune post yesterday. After an intense time at work I rushed home, had a quick snack, packed up some records and compact discs, and headed to the Rainbow Hotel in Fitzroy to DJ for four hours with my friend ‘Lilstormer.

I play on a mix of vinyl and CDs these days, increasingly more on vinyl and less on CDs (I started out DJing using just CDs). Call me old-fashioned, but I have no interest in seeing DJs play music on laptops or MP3 players, even though vinyl and CDs are bulky, heavy and – some would claim – impractical.

But why stick to these formats? Aren’t they obsolete?

I’m not going to enter into the debate about sound quality here. I’ll leave that to the vinyl aficianados and digital gurus. I’ve got great sounding music on vinyl, and on CD, and digitally, and equally I have crappy sounding music on each format. And, as a musician and music geek, I listen to a lot of diverse music. What I find more telling is my format journey over the years.

I started buying my own music in the late 1980s. Before that, I had a few cassette tapes, a handful of vinyl singles, and a couple of CDs, but vinyl sales were just starting to decline. CDs were the new thing in town. So as my music collection started to grow it was primarily on CD and tape – including C90s which me and my friends used to swap and share music, and to record songs off TV and radio. By the time I finished school in the early 1990s, I was only buying CDs.

When digital music started to grow in popularity, I didn’t see it as a format in which to purchase music. And (with rare exceptions) I always pay for music, so I didn’t see it as a way to accumulate more music either. I saw it more as a way to make my CD collection portable. So I ripped all my CDs, got myself an iPod, and – when DJing – made my own compilation CDs so I could carry more tunes without worrying about loss or damage.

Eventually, digital started to dominate. Without consciously deciding to go one way or the other, I was buying more music digitally than on physical media and did nearly all my music listening through a computer. And a lot of that was to whole piles of playlists I regularly made for different events, or based around different moods, genres and ideas.

Then I realised what I had lost. First, I rarely listened to albums – whole albums, all the way through, in track order as created by the artist. I also felt disconnected in some way from my collection of music. The experience of purchasing digital tunes on demand or on a whim, only to have them disappear into increasingly huge lists of tracks with barely a ripple, just wasn’t satisfying.

So I wound everything back. I have a record player and two CD players and I never play music on my computer at home. The majority of the time I listen to whole albums, all the way through. If I want to listen to a selection of tracks I do it the old fashioned way, using decks and mixer rather than a pre-prepared digital playlist. And I buy music on vinyl and CD, with digital purchases a last resort when other formats either aren’t available or are excessively pricey collectors items.

The result: I’m enjoying listening to music again. I love flicking through records, sliding one out of its large sleeve, placing the needle, flipping at the end of the side. I love browsing my CD shelves looking for something to play. I have rediscovered my love for music shops. And I feel like I’ve reconnected with music and my music collection as a result.

It’s nothing to do with sound quality. Sure, I also bought some beautiful floor standing Aaron speakers and wouldn’t go back for anything. But I could play good quality digital audio and it would sound fabulous. What I’m enjoying as much as the sound is the experience.

There is something ritualistic about playing music on physical media. You physically interact with records and CDs. Vinyl in particular – records and their sleeves look beautiful and have different textures, weights and smells. Music on physical media is part of the rooms and spaces I inhabit, engaging the senses before, during and after actual playback. A sense of ritual and experience enhanced by playing whole albums, or by having to change over media to change tracks.

I’m sure this is why vinyl sales have increased significantly in past years, why book sales remain strong, and why cinemas continue to sell tickets. These formats aren’t obsolete, because they embody an experience newer formats don’t have. They have physicality and engage the body as well as the mind.

Digital formats come with their own experiences – I use computers all the time, help create digital and online resources as part of my work, have an iPad and a smartphone, use social media daily, blog (obviously). I enjoy the digital world because it is disembodied. But I don’t want all my experiences to be disembodied.

I’ve returned to records (and CDs) for the same reason I’ve resisted reading fiction on tablets or e-readers. Music and text for me is not just about the informational content; not just about looking for the most efficient and cost-effective means for getting data into my head. I want to remain physically as well as mentally engaged with music and fiction, and I find those experiences richer for that.