My Playlist Is Not Floating in a Cloud

Sehyun Lee
Performer · Cello
I have thousands of songs available on my phone. I do not own most of them. There is no shelf full of CDs in my room and I definitely do not have a warehouse somewhere storing all my playlists. So for a long time, streaming felt almost environmentally perfect to me.
Nothing physical means no waste, right?
Not exactly.
When we call digital storage "the cloud," it sounds strangely weightless. In reality, music has to be stored in data centres, transmitted through networks, processed by devices and played through speakers or headphones. All of those things use electricity. Research by Matt Brennan and Kyle Devine compared the environmental costs of different recording formats and argued that the move away from physical formats dramatically reduced plastic use, but did not make music environmentally invisible. Energy consumption from digital music infrastructure created a different kind of footprint.¹
I find this uncomfortable because streaming is probably the part of my musical life I think about least.
If I buy a plastic bottle, I can see the bottle. When I finish it, I have to decide where to throw it away. If I stream the same song twenty times, nothing appears in my hand afterwards. The environmental cost is separated from the experience.
That does not mean I think we should stop streaming.
Actually, I think arguments like "streaming is bad, therefore buy physical music" are too simple. Vinyl is made from plastic. CDs use materials, packaging and transport. Streaming uses servers, networks and electricity. The impact also changes depending on how electricity is generated, which device is used and how often something is played.
There is no magical format with zero impact.
My own takeaway is more about the way we consume music. Streaming has made it incredibly easy to treat music as unlimited background noise. I can leave a playlist playing for hours without really listening. I can skip fifteen songs in thirty seconds. I can play music while studying, showering, walking and sleeping.
That convenience is amazing, but maybe it has also made each individual listen feel less valuable.
I have started liking the idea of listening more intentionally. If there is an album I love, I want to actually sit down and hear the whole thing sometimes. If I repeatedly listen to the same music, downloading it for offline use may also avoid repeatedly transferring the same data, depending on the service and device. More importantly, I think keeping phones, laptops and headphones for longer probably matters more than obsessing over whether listening to one extra song is environmentally acceptable.
The point is not to make people feel guilty for enjoying music.
The point is to remember that digital does not mean imaginary.
Every time technology removes something from our sight, it becomes easier to forget the physical system behind it. Music streaming still depends on buildings, cables, electricity, minerals, cooling systems and electronic devices.
My playlist may look like it lives in a cloud.
It does not.
And strangely, understanding that makes me want to listen with a little more attention.
Sources
- 1.Enlighten Publications — research by Matt Brennan and Kyle Devine comparing the environmental costs of recording formats and the energy footprint of digital music infrastructure.

Sehyun Lee
Performer · Cello
Sehyun's interest in sustainability began when he realised that the sound of his cello could feel like nature itself. As a young musician, he hopes his music can gently remind people to care for the earth in small but meaningful ways.