Carrying a Tune. . . or a Thousand

By Nicole V.

It’s a strange realization that 800+ songs in my pocket at any given moment isn’t enough music. I need an upgrade. I’m so outdated with my 4GB iPod mini. Initially I thought its storage capacity to be more than sufficient, and of course economical, at just around $200. Four gigabytes? Why would I ever need to have that many songs at once? Now I sit here, stressing out about plugging the familiar white cord into my computer because it means I’m going to have to make some tough decisions.

My modern little music player is at capacity and I’m going to have to figure out what stays, what goes, what new additions to make, etc. The process is somewhat similar to the days spent making tapes for my Walkman or filling a CD wallet to carry with my Discman, but somehow, loading up my iPod feels less comforting, more detached. With the evolution of portable music listening devices, my listening habits have changed. Is there a balance between the freedom of abundance and the satisfaction of thoughtful, precise selection? Is it too late to go back? Or am I forever past the technological point of using my buried Discman that’s being held together with an elastic band in the name of reclaiming my musical focus?

The first portable music player I ever owned was a hand-held record player. It opened and closed like a plastic lunchbox and had a carrying handle. Its primary use was for playing the seven-inch that came with read-along story books. I remember my favourite being Strawberry Shortcake. The furthest from my bedroom it ever got was to the rec room in the lower level of my house.

At about age seven, I received another portable music player: a small pink and white “tape recorder,” as I called it. It played one cassette and of course had an AM/FM tuner. Although not necessarily instrumental in developing my music selection neuroses, it opened my eyes to the world of the portable media experience. I would take my girly tape recorder to the church parking lot that my siblings and I rollerbladed and rode our bikes in because I could plug it into the outdoor electrical outlet and we could all listen to the radio. Background music for most, but for me, it was like putting on a soundtrack to a movie.

Next was the Walkman. Watershed for sure. I was no longer limited to listening to my Mariah Carey cassettes in my bedroom. I would walk around my yard and listen to tapes, or the radio, just because I could. Revolutionary!

At 14 I sort-of-accidentally won a Discman from Canadian video countdown show The Hit List (in the Tarzan Dan days), and even though I was slightly embarrassed about my acquisition of said Discman, I started carrying it to school with me regularly, making good use of my growing CD collection and music obsession.

Alternating between my Discman for full-album listening, and my Walkman for listening to mixes, I often listened to one selection for weeks at a time. At most, I carried a CD wallet with 12 more albums, those 12 being stationary for months. One album. One set of liner notes. One thing on which to focus. I eventually wore the Discman out. Its door had to be secured with an elastic band and it barely read CDs anymore. I also found myself using cassettes less and less, and didn’t bother with my Walkman. My music listening was once again relegated to my bedroom stereo system.

Pages: 1 2