Each and everyday is more or less the same for 80% of the working force out there. If they’re anything like me, all they want to do, after a long hard day at the office, is kick back in that comfy, favorite recliner, and throw on some music.
At this point you
open your iTunes and begin the daunting task of going through the endless list of music right in front of you. AC/DC, Aerosmith, Alicia Keys, BTO, The Band, and on, and on, and on, it continues. It’s not that I am unable to make a decision, in fact I’m usually very decisive with my decision making and very rarely run into an issue with making decisions on what to listen to. The problem is that I’ve lost that important connection between myself and my music collection.
Fifteen years ago, I would take my hard earned money and walk into the local Musicworld, or Sam The Record Man, and scope out the latest releases from all of my favourite, and hated, bands. Or maybe I had already spent some time researching the upcoming albums via Rolling Stone Magazine or some other media outlet which specialized in guiding the people to the music. No matter how I went about discovering the newest hits, or the hidden gems, I was invested and put thought into what I was purchasing.
I had made it a point to strike up a friendship with the manager (shout out to Vince here) of my local music store (I would chat with him usually every Saturday morning). This was the best way to discover new artists and it would eventually evolve to the point where if he wasn’t going to be in, he would leave me a new random disc with another clerk. The relationship which we had built over the span of a couple of years was fantastic. It was as if I had my very own, live Rolling Stone Magazine. He would learn what I enjoyed listening to, and because of that I was able to broaden my musical taste, because of what he would listen to.
Slapping that $20, $40 or $60 dollars down every Saturday, just to walk out of the store with a couple of albums to devour, was very satisfying. I was a 20 year old, full time worker, living in my parents basement. It was the perfect time to blow my hard earned cash on, the one thing I knew I’ve always loved, music. Even though I would take a blind gamble every now and then, I was still very calculating in what I would purchase. Did I have prior albums from the artist? Did it fit into a genre I enjoyed listening to? How were other people and outlets describing the sound on that particular album? Looking back, it was the safest way to make sure that I was getting the most bang for my buck, but at the same time I was rarely disappointed.
Which brings us to the dilemma I find myself in now. Because of the way in which we consume music in 2013, I’ve lost that satisfying feeling of finding a new album to get involved with. Sure I’ve come across albums which I love, and would say that they strike a chord within me the same way an album would have 10 years ago when I was buying cd’s, and don’t get me wrong, I still purchase albums (especially locally…..always support locally). But downloading music has allowed me to create a music library that I could only have dreamed of 10 years ago.
Upon first gaze it seems like a very impressive collaboration which covers everything from rock to rap to country and to classical, but once you start digging deep into the bones of the collection, it really comes across as a shallow, hollow, unsatisfying body of art work, vibrations and words.
My need to obtain all outlets of music has totally trumped my want for the music I should be seeking. Do I have the AC/DC discography? Yes. Do I want the AC/DC discography? No. But why delete it, when it’s nothing more than a spec of space on my hard drive.
