

“We’d run them in the plant in the week, and they’d have them in the flea markets on the weekend,” he said. In time, Glover became aware of a far-reaching underground trade in pre-release disks. But at the party, even in front of the supervisors, it seemed clear that the disks had been getting out. He knew that the plant managers were concerned about leaking, and he’d heard of employees being arrested for embezzling inventory. Plant policy required all permanent employees to sign a “No Theft Tolerated” agreement. Later, Glover realized that the host had been d.j.’ing with music that had been smuggled out of the plant. Glover, a fixture at clubs in Charlotte, an hour away, had never heard any of the songs before, even though many of them were by artists whose work he enjoyed. Late in the evening, the host put on music to get people dancing. He was angling for a permanent position, and the party was a chance to network with his managers. One Saturday in 1994, Bennie Lydell Glover, a temporary employee at the PolyGram compact-disk manufacturing plant in Kings Mountain, North Carolina, went to a party at the house of a co-worker. Dell Glover manufactured CDs for a living, but he began to wonder: if the MP3 was just as good, why bother with the CD? Photograph by Jehad Nga
