Wiethoff’s insight was radical:
News of EAC spread like wildfire through the nascent file-sharing communities, but not for the reason you might think. While some used it to create pristine MP3s, its true home was among the archivists. It became the gold standard for preserving rare, out-of-print, or damaged discs. Got a 1980s CD that your toddler used as a skateboard? EAC could often save it. Want to archive your entire collection before the discs rot? EAC was the only tool you could trust. exact audio copy
Then, in 1998, a German programmer named decided to solve the problem. A computer science student with a passion for precise, deterministic software, Wiethoff was frustrated by the same issues. He believed that the data on an audio CD was, at its core, just data. The drive’s firmware was the problem—it was optimized for speed and silence, not for accuracy. It would give up too easily. Wiethoff’s insight was radical: News of EAC spread
A CD is not a hard drive. Hard drives have error-checking built-in; if a sector is hard to read, the drive re-reads it until it gets the right answer. Audio CDs, however, were designed for the smooth, continuous playback of a stereo system. They used a simpler, real-time error correction scheme called CIRC (Cross-Interleaved Reed-Solomon Code). This could fix small scratches or dust, but if a section was too damaged, the drive wouldn’t try again—it would simply guess what the missing data should be, a process called . It would "conceal" the error by averaging the sound of the good samples before and after the bad one. Got a 1980s CD that your toddler used as a skateboard
He wrote a new program that would command the CD-ROM drive at the lowest possible level, using the drive’s native "SCSI" commands (even on ATAPI drives, which emulated SCSI). He called his creation .