I have a 6-disc CD player in my Honda Accord. There are six Taylor Swift studio albums. It is as it sounds.

My car stereo has been full ever since November 10th, 2017. I returned home from work that evening to find a very expected package on my doorstep. Moments later, I was driving down the highway listening to the brand-new reputation on my watch the season opener for the brand-new Missouri Tigers basketball season. I won’t rehash the undeniable connection between T-Swift and Mizzou hoops, but this dashcam video from that night shows off my excitement for the new era. For the nearly two years since, I’ve listened through Taylor’s discography, from “Tim McGraw” to “New Year’s Day” and everything in between, more times than I can count. These six albums have served as the soundtrack to my daily commute, Sunday morning grocery runs, and road trips across the Midwest.

So, as pumped as I am about the new album Lover’s impending release (in TWO days!), and as excited as I am for Taylor to begin working with a label that treats her as an equal, I want to take a moment to reminisce. When I find another package on my doorstep this Friday evening, it will mark the end an incredible period of my life in which every Taylor Swift album has lived one push of a button away. And it’s pretty easy to know which button to press — 1 for Taylor Swift, 2 for Fearless, 3 for Speak Now, 4 for Red, 5 for 1989, and 6 for reputation, as Goddess intended. If only Honda had the foresight to build the Accord with a 7-CD player, perhaps then I wouldn’t feel so much agony over the impossibility of pressing 7 for Lover.

You might say that it’s 2019, why not buy a new car stereo that lets me stream every song in the universe? Or, at the very least, a used iPod? If I did that, I’d miss the beautiful clicking sound of the disc changer rotating between Speak Now and Red, giving me the chance to catch my breath between belting out “Long Live” (Disc 3 – Track 14) and ramping right back up with “State of Grace” (4 – 1). Also, I wouldn’t be able to change songs safely and quickly by just touching my steering wheel or the stereo itself. Plus, on the rare occasion in which my happy introverted self has given someone else a lift, I’ve reveled in the power of limiting them to six listening options (and a dozen-ish sub-options within each option).

My Swiftie friends welcome my choice of music. Whoever thinks that time travel doesn’t exist yet clearly has never flipped to “You Belong With Me” (2 – 6) on a a sunny Spring day. As much as I try to stay calm, I inevitably end up 10 MPH above the speed limit whenever the bop takes me to Bridge City. On one occasion, my front seat companion felt worried enough about our safety that I immediately had to switch to “Last Kiss” (3 – 13) to slow us down a bit. (Though I was certainly tempted to go the opposite direction with “Getaway Car” [6 – 9] instead.)

Speaking of “Last Kiss,” that was my go-to sadness machine as I wallowed home from Missouri football’s soul-crushing 15-14 loss to Kentucky last year. Thankfully, my non-Mizzou, non-Taylor fan friend riding shotgun suggested that perhaps it’d be better if I took my mind off the fact that the refs blatantly cheated me out of happiness. He told me to pick a song that always make me smile, which led me to “Sparks Fly” (3 – 2). He later asked for suggestions to listen to while running, to which I first responded with “Change” (2 – 13). When he said he needed something a little less country, I instantly flipped over to “King of My Heart” (6 – 10), flexing the genre-crossing range of our songwriting queen.

That ability to skip around seamlessly has proved invaluable for converting non-Swifties to the cause. One of my close friends remained adamant in his distaste for Taylor’s work as we trekked across I-70 one night. Until “New Year’s Day” (6 – 15) came on. As soon as the piano faded out, he immediately needed more, like a child who’d just tasted ice cream for the first time. I let the disc-changer automatically switch over to the first album and “Tim McGraw” (1-1), then moved ahead to “Mary’s Song (Oh My My My)” (1 – 10) for good measure. Of course I couldn’t not introduce him to the glory of “All Too Well” (4 – 5), and I also felt “Back to December” (3 – 3) would fit the mood. By the end of the ride, the so-called “not a huge Taylor fan” had a lengthy new playlist on his phone.

Taylor’s discrography’s extensive range of emotions and styles allows me to educate those with only a cursory knowledge of T-Swift. As I took one colleague to the auto body shop after work so he could pick up his car, he asked me to play “Shake It Off” (5 – 6), the only Taylor song he knew. Before I could switch over to another iconic hit, a snippet of “I Wish You Would” (5 – 7) began to play. He ended up liking that deep cut perhaps even more than I do. When I saw him in the break room 15 hours later, he told me we needed to talk, because he’d listened to 1989 in its entirety after he got home the night before and wanted to discuss over coffee. And yes, I did make sure he went back to take in “New Romantics” (5 – 16) and the rest of the deluxe songs as soon as we’d had our caffeine.

Unfortunately, one college buddy remains openly hostile to the gospel of Taylor, despite my best efforts. He’s an old soul (despite being the same age as me), which apparently precludes him from having two ears connected to a heart. After picking him up at his house last July, he protested his lack of influence over the music selection. Too bad, I told him. If we’re going to grab to grab lunch at Shakespeare’s Pizza, we’re listening to “Love Story” (2 – 3) on the way there, no questions asked. And to change his mind about “real music,” I also played him “White Horse” (2 – 5) and “Mean” (3 – 6) back-to-back. He claims that hearing the 2010 and 2012 winners of the Grammy for Best Country Song didn’t change his mind, but at least I tried.

While some songs certainly do not mix well with safe driving, others have calmed me down enough to get me through anything. I fully credit T-Swift with getting me home safely during a horrible ice-storm in February 2018. I made sure to loop through all the most relaxing jams in order to keep my heart rate down and my eyes on the road. Plus, wanting to hear the next great song gave me the motivation to stay alive, an added bonus. From “I’m Only Me When I’m With You” (1 – 12) to “Begin Again (4 – 16), and the likes of “The Best Day” (2 – 12) and “Never Grow Up” (3 – 8) in between, I navigated the “Treacherous” (4 – 3) slope safely (and I liked it). As I pulled into my driveway in one piece, I realized I was “Clean” (5 – 13).

To be fair, it’s not like I’ll suddenly have no access to old Taylor songs come Thursday. If I want, on my next road trip to Memphis I’ll still be able to press 1 for Taylor Swift while leaving my street, not touch the stereo again, and several hours later have “Welcome to New York” come blaring on as soon as the Bass Pro Shops Pyramid comes into view. It’s as if Taylor timed out her first five albums specifically for that drive.

But fitting seven albums into a 6-disc CD player just won’t be the same as having all six albums fit my car like a perfect rhyme. Right now, I don’t have to play favorites. From the eponymous debut album all the way to reputation in slot number 6, each piece of Taylor’s discography stands on equal, holy ground (4 – 11, by the way). Seemingly every day I’ve discovered a new way in which songs across years and genres interlock with each other, with an infinity of different playlists possible depending on my mood, my companion, where I’m going, or simply what the weather looks like outside.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m going to spend this upcoming weekend obsessively tuning into Lover like a hungry saber-toothed tiger devouring a happy meal. Lover, along with the six preceding albums, will play a part in the music rotation in my Honda for years to come. But no longer will it feel like all of Taylor’s music exists specifically for driving this special car.

That said, my excitement for new music outweighs my nostalgia. Given the choice between listening to the same six albums forever and having never-before-heard Taylor Swift to discover, there’s no question I choose the latter. Thus, with this last trip down memory lane out of my system, I’m now fully ready for Lover.