The Columbia House Music Club Was A Trap

The following is a small unedited excerpt from an unpublished memoir that I am currently writing. All text ©2016 Jim Younkin. Keep an eye out for the book sometime in the future.



A particular event that had a large influence on my cultural growth happened at this time: The Columbia House Music Club.



If you've never been in the Columbia House Music Club let me tell you a bit about it.



In magazines back then you would see these advertisements that would be on this thick paper and it would have tons and tons of little images of CD covers on it.



It would also have a really long list of CDs with check boxes next to them. The headline was always something along the lines of "9 CDs for ¢1". That was the pitch. What 15 year old looking at all of those little CD covers wouldn't want to get 9 CDs for ¢1! (It might have been 8 or 10 CDs. I vaguely remember is varying at times.)



All you had to do was fill out the card and check which 9 CDs you wanted and send it in and then you would get your CDs.



There was a catch of course. There is always a catch. The catch for the Colombia House CD club was that after you for your first 9 CDs you would then get one CD automatically sent to you every month.



Now this is where it get's a bit fuzzy on how this thing worked because as a 14 or 15 year old I didn't really read the Terms & Conditions but this is how I think I remember it working.



So they would automatically send you one CD in the mail every month. It would come in an cardboard sleeve and if you opened it you weren't able to return it. You would then have to pay around $20 for the CD and I think you might have had to pay shipping or something.



If, however, you didn't open the cardboard and instead sent it back you either wouldn't have to pay or you would pay shipping and handling.



Or maybe it was that you had to only pay ¢1 for the first 9 CDs but you would have to pay the shipping and handling for those first CDs.



I can't remember.



The best memory I have of the Columbia House Music Club was the first shipment I got that had the first 9 CDs I had put check marks next to on the card I had sent in.



While I can't remember all of the CDs I do remember getting Pork Soda by Primus. I also got one of the early 90s Aerosmith CDs. I also got Arrested Development's first CD as well as the first Dee-Lite CD.



Man I loved those CDs. I played them over and over.



Pork Soda absolutely blew my mind. Even to this day when that opening slap bass line for My Name Is Mud comes on something primal wells up in my gut.



(I also saw Primus in concert during my high school days. I loved them so much.)



So I had a positive experience with the "first taste is (nearly) free" offering but what followed was a year of two of having them send me CDs in the mail every month and me somehow racking up a bill with them that I remember ending up at something like $70.



I remember they would send threatening notices letting me know that I owed them money. This was my first experience with debt collectors and I didn't like it.



Owing this money to Columbia House was something I felt ashamed of and kept from my parents.



Even though I was likely around 16 or 17 at the time it finally reached a point when I had to confess to my mom that I owed this money to Columbia House and that I needed to pay it.



I don't remember if we actually finally was able to pay it or I borrowed the money from my mom or I simply ignored it enough but the awesome feeling of having those first 9 CDs wasn't worth the years of them doggedly following me around and making me feel bad.



Like I said I don't exactly know how that thing worked but if you grew up in the 90s there's a good chance you were part of it as well.



When your young and you don't have a lot of money to spend on CDs something like "9 CDs for ¢1" is quite enticing. But don't take the bait. It's a trap.