The Auditory Pizza: A Musing on Music

If you think of the human lifespan, or even just thought, as a chain of experiences, it seems like modern society is bent on breaking this chain into smaller and smaller isolated links. Everything is so fragmented. It's hard to lose yourself in the world of a good TV show when, every 5 minutes, a commercial reminds you that if you drive a Toyota Corolla, crowds of people in color-coordinated suits will dance to terrible electro-pop wherever you go (sometimes you just have to marvel at the sheer ridiculousness of everyday things). Even as I write, I feel like my attention span has been pulled into tiny pieces, tumbling off in all different directions. There's always something keeping my eyes from the screen, my thoughts from the words, and my hands from the keyboard.  

Sorry for the terrible image quality. I still can't use my scanner, so this is an iPod photo. Thanks Obama.

Sometimes I think this fragmented culture keeps us from fully appreciating musical albums as complete works. I love iTunes when I want to download a couple hit songs from an album that doesn't interest me otherwise. For instance, I'm not a big Macklemore fan, but you bet I was whistling "Thrift Shop" when I found that dapper velvet vest for 3 bucks on the second hand rack. However, I wonder if this form of buying music discourages people from listening to entire albums from beginning to end, as they're often meant to be enjoyed.

I thought about this while driving home from work one night. I listened to the entire Demon Days album by Gorillaz, and it had been a long time since I'd listened to the whole thing in one go. Most of the time, the individual songs just pop up here and there while my iPod is in shuffle mode, kinda like random memories that flash in your mind when you least expect them (like when you have a glass of milk and remember the time you ate a blade of grass when you were seven because you wanted to see what it felt like to be a cow). Anyway, after I got home, I felt like I'd experienced each song on Demon Days in a different way from before, as parts of a complete work of art, and the effect was beautiful and eye-opening. It was like eating the whole pizza, instead of just an olive or a bacon bit. It makes you think about why the tracks were arranged the way they were, and allows you to appreciate the way one song blends into another. Plus, it helped that it was a Demon Days kind of night: the air was cool, and the black sky was overcast, but the clouds were just thin enough so that you could barely see the moon's ghostly figure.

Another thing I realized that night is the importance of listening to an album through a real stereo system rather than earbuds. It's another example of experiences getting smaller and more isolated. Listening through tiny headphones is nothing compared to hearing a song spill into the atmosphere from a good set of speakers. This way, it doesn't just go into your ears; it fills the space around you.

ONE MORE THING (in the words of Uncle): as great as the iTunes preview feature is, it also takes away some of the suspense and excitement of buying and album you've never heard at all before. The other day, I was at Barnes and Noble, and I came across a CD of Nina Simone love songs. I was already somewhat familiar with Nina Simone (who doesn't love I Put a Spell on You?), but I'd never heard any of these covers before. I knew it had to be at least a pretty good album, but I still felt the excitement of taking a leap of faith and buying an album I'd hadn't previewed (maybe "pre-listened" is a better term). Fortunately, it turned out to be incredible--the actual title is Nina Simone for Lovers if you wanna pick it up yourself. It's also more of an event, buying a CD or record. You make a special trip to the record store or mailbox with a pleasant anticipation, rather than the instant gratification of downloading something.

I'm gonna wrap this post up and drag up the energy to write some more things, but I recommend going out and getting an album that looks good, but that you've never heard before. It can be pretty fun.