Carrying a Tune. . . or a Thousand

For school use I purchased a Minidisc recorder, an uncommon bridge between the Discman and the iPod. Having not had a properly working portable music player for a while (and no real need for one, since my residence was mere steps away from my college and therefore eliminated most solo-on-foot endeavors), it was exciting to be able to use it as a music player one summer when I ambitiously (and awkwardly) decided to be a jogger. The Minidisc player was small, held lots of music, and was a significant step (from simply downloading) into digital music consumerism and mobility. My storage capabilities grew and so did my library. My attention span sadly followed suit. I got spoiled being able to have two or three albums on one Minidisc.

The next step was of course getting an iPod. Despite the disposability of modern electronics, I’ve managed to get three-plus years of consistent use out of it. Oh, little Oliver. I love you.

So here I sit, cord in computer, chin in palm. It feels like I scroll for hours contemplating what I could possibly want to listen to while out and about with my iPod. The truth is, we now have the ability to carry essentially the entire history of recorded music if we so wish, any place, anytime. It’s intimidating. To put it simply, this possibility has, reinvented music listening, for both the casual music fan and the diehards.

As a member of the latter, I struggle to keep up. I feel a disconnect. I talk about songs by track number instead of title. After importing a CD into my hard drive, it gets stored on a shelf; that is, if I even purchase the tangible physical product in a store. I have too many options at my constant disposal, both new and old, and I want to hear it all and I just can’t focus. I do listen to more music than ever, but if it just becomes another piece of fleeting trivia, and not something I’m invested in, what makes it any different than a meaningless (albeit probably really fun) one-hit-wonder? It is an ongoing battle but I’ve come up with a few tactics to help increase my absorption:

1. Only put full albums on the iPod. Random tracks here and there are not allowed unless they are part of a specific playlist, i.e., “This is Me In Grade 9!” or something equally as thematic.

2. The shuffle feature is off limits. It makes me feel dirty and scattered and contributes to my constant low hum of anxiety. No, I am not kidding. Yes, I know how insane I must seem (be).

3. If I notice myself particularly engaged by an album and I do not own a physical copy of the album, I am self-instructed to, scour the Internet immediately for as much information as possible. I will also cross-reference sources for accuracy and different viewpoints. Repeat.

4. Ensure all artist/album/track information is of consistent style and is correct in the iTunes info section. The way it displays on your iPod screen is very important. To me. What?

5. Um, calm down. You are still pretty good at being a music fan. You will not become everything you hate.

With the above list, let it be said that the adventures in Music Fandom Self Discipline do not stop here. No, they are just beginning, for once my 4GB iPod finally bites it, I will take the above principles and attempt to put them to use with my shiny new 80GB beast in hand. Yeah, eighty. Eight-Zero. I know. Wish me luck.

RELATED LINKS:

The Death of the Mix, Popshifter January/February 2008 issue

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