By Vivian Kalla
There is a beauty and value in connecting with the past. And, of course, getting away from the demanding nature of social media and app notifications is also beneficial. Even on social media, users romanticize and idealize aspects of bygone eras, many of which they were not alive to see. People actively fantasize about the idea of not being addicted to cell phones, while, of course, posting on social media about wishing not to be on their cell phones.
Music is no longer an experience. Other than concerts and the rare release party, the attainment of music itself has long since been eradicated from the “music enjoyer” hobby.
Much like information, music has never been more accessible. At the low price of a monthly subscription for ad-free music, anybody can enjoy almost any song ever made just by opening Spotify or Apple Music. I am not here to say this is not convenient — as a Spotify user myself, life has never been easier. Being able to put on my Bluetooth, noise-canceling headphones and jam out for hours is certainly a privilege.
However, convenience is not always a positive thing. Imagine a world where you can go anywhere at the press of a button, be provided with unlimited entertainment and food and never again have to do anything for yourself. Sounds great? I just described the spaceship from Wall-E. As that movie and other dystopian stories teach, humans will naturally abuse convenience. By using Spotify, we are saved from the struggles of our forefathers — who would wait weeks for a new record to come to a shop nearby, or receiving that CD you have been dying to listen to in the mail. In fact, I might argue that we value media less than ever before. We never have to be patient, searching through stacks of cassettes at a music shop for that one particular album you are looking for, just to come across three new artists, all of whom may become favorites along the way.
In taking two steps forward, we have also taken two back. The purchasing and listening process of music used to be an event in and of itself. You would spend hours at your local shop, looking through your wishlist, perhaps written on — gasp — paper instead of your notes app. You might find hidden gems along the way, or meet other listeners who love the same artists you do. Perhaps you could begin a lifelong friendship of being concert buddies. Of course, there is no doubt that this is idealistic as well, but there is always the possibility of developing positive relationships by putting yourself in the position to meet new people, especially when in a space specific to an interest of yours.
Perhaps I am just nostalgic, but I can hardly be blamed for it. The era of physical media also represents, in many ways, an era of simply better music. I listen to music primarily from the seventies to early 2000s, when records and then CDs were most popular, to owning those items is like having a physical manifestation of the time period, and, for the most part, it is music from those eras that are sold in physical form — when purchasing used, that is.
The small imperfections in the ridges of a record offer each individual album its own unique quirks. Nowadays, the studio sound, recorded and uploaded to every streaming app imaginable, is utterly perfect. This is a beautiful thing, of course, but lacks the value that comes with being unique. In our current culture that is so individualistic and “I’m better because I’m different,” why not place more worth in the idea of having something physically unique?
Technologically, cassettes, CDs and records are far more impressive than any online streaming service. Record players convert vibration into sound while CD players use laser beams to read teeny tiny bumps. And then, of course, there is just the feeling of having a tape or CD in your hands. Inserting a physical object into a player which then magically creates sound is a transcendental experience. The clicking noise a cassette player makes when it has reached the end of its tape is music in itself — there truly is nothing like it.
A lot of people like to collect things — for some it may be coins, stamps or vintage toys. What is so special about collecting music is that it is an item of use. You can hold the collected object in your hands, view it as you would any other collection and then listen to it and enjoy it in its use.
Of course, there is no doubt that physical music is a dying medium. This makes it even less accessible, and consequently, more expensive. So again, this is not something for everybody. Many artists are no longer releasing physical forms of their albums, though some popular artists such as Taylor Swift, Chappell Roan and Sabrina Carpenter have recently put out cassettes, which was very surprising and welcome to see. I hope that this trend may trigger a rise in the popularity of physical media, and ideally, a lowering of prices — though some music lovers are snobs, accessibility remains a main priority for the rest of us. More than this, I hope music shops become lively and popular again, with people hoping to grab their favorite artist’s new record before it sells out and perhaps meeting other fans along the way and making new friends. Attaining the music itself can and should be a significant part of being a music lover.
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