If the ad breaks between consistently rubbish summer TV shows are anything to go by, music compilation CDs are this season’s must-have items. And, boy, are they getting the hard sell.

There’s another Bruce Springsteen compilation. Cat Stevens’ best of is, apparently, ‘one of the best compilations ever!’ The Very Best of Don Henley features Boys of Summer and, erm, you know, all his other best stuff…

I hate commercial compilation CDs (got to love homemade ones, though). In the digital age they are a redundant concept. Pre-digital, they did fill a need. Like a couple of songs by one particular artist, and keen to dip into the back catalogue without buying all the albums? Before the internet, would need to pick up a compilation CD (or, indeed, an LP or cassette). You’d accept that fact that there’d be a few tracks you didn’t like, and a few of your favourites would be missing, and the track order might be a bit annoying – because there was nothing you could do about it.

Now you make your own compilations. You go to Spotify or iTunes and you compile a playlist or download all your favourite tracks and arrange them in a sensible order (always chronological, I’m saying!). You can burn a CD if you need one, tweaking it for individual friends or parties or car journeys. You are in control, and you get exactly what you want. Your personal version of the Very Best of Don Henley ends up with a much shorter running time.

The record companies seem to have realised that time is running out to peddle their officially-compiled compilations. I quite like Cat Stevens, but can the Best of Cat Stevens really be considered one of the best compilations ever? There are five or six great songs on there, but there are at least as many that only the most devout Yusuf Islam fan could describe as anything other than bloody awful.

And pity all the Dads who get Don Henley’s CD for Father’s Day on account of whistling Boys of Summer once within earshot of an offspring, and then have to appear grateful while subjecting their ears to the album’s other 12 tracks of turgidly forgettable soft rock.

Polydor have bought text ads on Amazon: ‘Celebrate the career of a legend with The Very Best Of Don Henley.’ Who is this legend, and how can we be confident that he or she would like to celebrate their career with a 92-percent rubbish Don Henley CD?

Back catalogue sales make up a huge portion of record company turnover, but they need to accept that the way we consume music has changed forever. No longer can they trawl the archives every year for another batch of artists to revive courtesy of a best of CD. Pre-selected compilations are going to die out in the very near future.

The ad for Bruce Springsteen’s new best of CD helpfully advises that it is also available as a download. But why would anyone bother to download a pre-selected compilation, when they can download their favourite tracks individually and compile their own compilation? Bruce’s new Greatest Hits is essentially a re-ordered version of his last Greatest Hits, and it’s obviously very good, but it can still be improved by the addition of your personal faves that didn’t make the fairly obvious selection. Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out or Atlantic City, anyone?

With compilations, homemade has always been the way to go, since the days of the C90, and while hand-compiled tapes and CDs still make great gifts, it’s a whole lot easier to email over a Spotify playlist.

It would seem natural to end this with some links to Spotify compilations I’ve compiled. But they’ve got my favourite songs on. Go and compile your own.

Paul Music, Technology