I popped into to Nottingham this morning for a bit of a shop. I haven't done this for a while and, if I'm in Nottingham and the love of my life isn't with me, I tend to spend some time looking at the other love of my life in Music Exchange (flicking through the vinyl) and Fopp (buying CD albums I've already got on vinyl).
Not only did I not buy anything in these two shops, but I didn't get the buzz that, until recently, I have always had when shopping for music. I was slightly tempted by a Winifred Atwell 10inch album which was in pristine condition and looked gorgeous, but I don't particularly like Winifred Atwell and, besides, how could I get it converted digitally so that I could listen to it in the car through my iPod?
In Fopp I needed (yes, needed) to get a copy of Aladdin Sane and The Lodger on CD as I realised this week that I've only got them on vinyl (there are some of you reading the last sentence thinking "why does he need more than one version of an album?" and other soul-mates that are thinking "my God! Why has he left it so long to get Aladdin Sane and The Lodger on CD?"). They were each £6 and the download version is £4.99. And all I would do is to load the CDs into iTunes and they would then gather dust.
As I browsed through other Fopp stuff it occurred to me that this really doesn't have the same attraction as it once did. I've changed, and I believe many like me have changed. I would be very surprised if either the Music Exchange or Fopp were still in Nottingham in 10 years' time. And I would also be very surpised if I still had my turntable and my CD player.
This made me sad. However, my mood was lifted considerably when I checked my Twitter feed while sipping a skinny decaf caramel frappuccino and eating a biscotto in Starbucks. One of my on-line chums who knows what pushes my buttons had recommended an album of early English royal funeral music. I downloaded it there and then and I'm listening to it now. I've seen the future and it's digital.
Shopping for vinyl and CDs is how the modern male hones his hunter gatherer instincts. Have you given any thought what-so-ever as to how your digitally-dependent mindset will cope when the new ice age forces you to venture out onto subarctic tundra, and you have to catch your dinner with a net? You can't download a mammoth. You don't have the bandwidth.
ReplyDeleteThis morning, having stripped down to the waist, I repaired to my nearest HMV. There I acquired the re-isssue of Mad Season's - Above - in an absurdly-proportioned 6 by 5 1/2 inch digi-pack.
What shape was the last piece of music you downloaded? You are going to make an attempt at saving face by pretending that it was some kind of mad fucking hexagon but I see through your paper-thin ruse to the banal truth: An MP3 has no discernible shape!
I don't want to live in a world where music doesn't come on a round object, encased in a square or rectangular package.
I'm not convinced you're right sir. Digital's all very well and has its obvious advantages - but I never feel I actually own a piece of music until I've got the record or CD in my hands.
ReplyDeleteIf anything, I think the trend is going back the other way and the young'uns are discovering the joy of owning records. I was DJ-ing in south Manchester a few weeks back with a couple of lads in their early 20's who were really passionate about music. They excitedly told me how they'd now been collecting records for a couple of weeks. I think there's something in the human psyche that wants to hold something it loves - and you can't hold an mp3.