Photo by Tonje Thilesen
I recently purchased music for the first time in years because I had lost control of what I was listening to. For the first time in a decade, I bought the songs I was enjoying. In light of a 12-hour road trip where fiddling around with my iPhone while driving wouldn’t be an option, I caved. While I pondered which songs I’d pay for, I realized this monetary exchange was monumental. My subconscious was coming in as Taylor Swift, insisting "There should be an inherent value placed on art." Yes, I thought, right now I am paying for art! Paying for this truly matters. Any shame I had was replaced by pride I was doing the right thing.
Last summer, in an op-ed for the Wall Street Journal, Swift addressed the immense changes affecting how people consume music. It was a touching reflection made relevant when Swift pulled her entire catalog from Spotify in advance of the release of 1989. In that instance, I wondered what I’d do if all music wasn’t so readily accessible. Music comes at me in every which way that I barely pay attention to what I am actually listening to and the source it’s coming from. This hardly seems like a dilemma but the point of good music is to become engrossed, and I had lost sight of that. How had I become reliant on streaming?
I can recall, not too long ago, going inside a record store, purchasing a CD, rushing home, going into my room, locking the door, getting frustrated at opening the damn thing, and playing an album the whole way through while reading the liner notes. That’s what I’m yearning for again.
The thought of being lethargic while listening to music is truly frightening. But why I am not engaging with it? It’s not as if good music isn’t out there, but the experience has changed. There’s a disconnect taking place between the music and the listener.
So, for my 2014 mix, I was making a conscious effort to purchase music by genuine artists that piqued my interest through the barrage of noise, which included songs by Sky Ferreira, Disclosure, Chvrches, and Light Asylum. This purchase made me listen to music differently, or better yet, the exact same way I had before streaming became a thing.
A few days later, I made another purchase. During my travels I found myself at Vintage Vinyl in St. Louis, and instead of being in awe at the rarity of just being in a record store, I went straight to a listening station. I played the new Cold War Kids album Hold My Home in its entirety, and it was fantastic. But I was not frivolously whipping out cash because I was into the act of buying again. I was making a conscious trade because I believed in the product. The power of choosing what I was listening to, and not whatever a streaming service through my way, felt invigorating.
Perhaps I am feeling nostalgic for an era that is long gone, as Trent Reznor says, reiterating a consensus. But that’s not entirely it; We’re tired of being handed everything for free. U2’s failedSongs of Innocence album release exemplifies that point. Swift, Radiohead, David Byrne, and the other few coming out against streaming, are really onto something. If artists make it difficult to get their music, we will still seek it out. The experience of listening to music is vital to our experience of living, and we should be mindful of how we ingest it.