Showing posts with label personal connections. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal connections. Show all posts

Friday, March 22, 2013

My beloved green iPod Nano, Geno, basically crapped out on me this week.

I had a feeling it was going to happen, especially since the back button had stopped working, but after five and a half years (which I am told made it ancient in the Apple world), it basically went to sleep and never woke up. Then it told me to connect to power, which I did, and then after it was charged, I couldn't turn it off. And that's where it stands now. Couldn't even pause a song.

(If you're wondering, "Anonanimal" was the most played track on it. The last song I listened to? "Backyard Skulls." I feel like there's some sort of poetry to those facts.)

These things happen, and although I basically grew to hate everything on it (I had been skipping through the 1100 songs on shuffle just so I could listen to "The Woodpile"), I am still pretty sad to see the little green guy go. Music is obviously important to me, and it's become the number one love in my life. And when I think back about all of the music that came and went on Geno, all of the obsessions I've had since 2007, I can't help but get nostalgic and just a little bit sad. This iPod is dead and I don't even have some of these songs anymore. I'll probably forget about some of them until they pop up on a Pandora station and I'll think, "oh, I haven't heard this song in forever." And wonder why I still don't listen to it.

So, I've been thinking back on all of the musical obsessions I had over the past five and a half years.

1. The Frames-I bought this iPod a day or so after I saw The Frames at Webster Hall. That was the best show I'd ever been to (until LCD Soundsystem at The Wellmont in 2010) and I was on such a Frames kick for a bit. Even though I don't listen to them much anymore (occasionally when they would pop up on my iPod), they're still my favorite band of all time. And Glen Hansard is a legend.

2. Tegan and Sara-I had been a pretty casual Tegan and Sara fan for a few years before The Con was released. And then The Con was released. Total obsession. Total need to consume all of their music. And boy, did I listen to a lot of them in 2007. Even saw them live (and it's one of my favorite shows to this day). I cooled off on them around the time of Sainthood (we can all agree it wasn't as good of a record, right?) and although I still adore them, and LOVE Heartthrob, I've been priced out of seeing them live and they're so popular, they're being covered on Glee.

3. Andrew Bird-It's a fierce and eternal love. Just ask my arm. But in all seriousness, there was an obscene amount of Birdman on my iPod.

4. The National-I secretly give The National a lot of shit, simply because their live shows just aren't there  but in 2010, they were my everything when it came to music. I'd be lying if I didn't say Matt Berninger's lyrics didn't have an impact on me, and The National are special because even though I've shared a bunch of my bands with her, they're the band I truly share with my best friend. And is there a better feeling than someone telling you, "You know that band you like? I like them too?"

5. LCD Soundsystem-As mentioned above, seeing LCD live was not only my favorite concert-going moment but a revelation. James Murphy is a god. The second-half of 2010 was dominated by LCD Soundsystem. Sadly, I find that their music doesn't hold up too well on repeat listens. But it's oh, so good.

6. Destroyer-I was pretty anti-Bejar until the release of Kapputt in 2011. I couldn't stand his voice. But then, I saw the light (and come on, that is a fucking incredible record). Wanna talk about lyrical geniuses. I binged on Destroyer for the first half of 2011 (I cooled off around the time I saw them live, which was a bizarre experience) but I am still prepared to lead the Cult of Bejar. I mean, have you heard a song better than "Bay of Pigs?"

7. Frightened Rabbit-Ah, Frightened Rabbit. I. Love. Frightened. Rabbit. Like it is an intense love, and I'll no doubt burn out on them in another month or so. But for now, I shall bask in how great I think they are. I mean, the other night I christened them my third favorite band. Of all time. A little premature, huh? Well, we'll see where this one takes us.

And you know, there was Japandroids and Beach House and Feist and Beirut and Bon Iver and The Avett Brothers and Devendra Banhart and so many other bands and artists that I obsessed over for a few weeks. So many phases, so many memories, all on one iPod.   

I filled up, or attempted to fill up, my new iPod and only managed to find 329 songs I wanted on it. That's a pretty drastic difference. But now that I think about it, it just means that I have to find new songs to make memories. Those other songs belong to the last five and a half years of my life.

Except "The Woodpile."     

Thursday, February 14, 2013

It's okay to take songs off of your iPod.

I know this comes as a surprise to nobody but I buy a lot of music, more than I could conceivably fit onto my 8GB iPod. And with every new song or record I want to put on my iPod (it's a green mini Nano, purchased in 2007, named Geno. I have an iPhone and an iPod Touch but Geno and I have been through a lot. And his name is Geno.) I am faced with the problem of removing a song or two. It's the circle of life for mp3s. And let me be honest, there are a lot of songs that I constantly skip over that could conceivably be deleted, and yet, I scroll through the list over and over again and wrestle with the decision as to which songs need to go.

I think there are two reasons behind this problem:

1. I buy all of my music on vinyl, with the exception of a few stray mp3s that I buy from Amazon, simply because I don't like the whole record enough. I am very against the idea of purchasing a full album on mp3. I believe it physicality, and there is something beautiful about removing a record from it's sleeve, putting it on your player, and letting the needle gently glide over it. An mp3 is nothing. It just exists on your hard drive, and if it crashes or gets deleted, then it's gone. And you have nothing to show for it. There are a lot of songs on my iPod that I either a) don't have physical copies of or b) don't even have the mp3 of and once they are deleted, they are gone forever. I understand musical is cyclic, and I won't always want to listen to or like the same songs, and with the internet, things are always available now. But if I delete this live version of Damien Rice's "The Professor and La Fille Danse" that's in very poor quality, I WILL NEVER GET IT BACK!

2. Music is so incredibly personal, and I feel like I've developed a sort of connection or memory to every song/album/artists I listen to. I scroll through my iTunes library and think, "No! I can't take off this instrumental by Sufjan Stevens! He helped shape my love of indie!" or "I never listen to this live, solo version of 'Banking On a Myth' but it's Andrew! And I must be able to say I have a ridiculous, albeit unrealistic amount of his recordings on my iPod." And if I take off all of the Damien Rice music, then it just shows that I don't really like listening to him anymore, especially not as much as I did when I was in high school and my father would drive me to school every morning and I'd force him to listen to O over and over again. And then I'm saying good-bye to that part of my life. But I own the album on CD, and I could play it over and over again if I wanted to. But if "Cold Water" didn't randomly come on my iPod during my morning commute, I couldn't think, "Jeez, remember when my father used to argue with me about how this was the best song on the album?" If I removed those Bell x1 songs, then they're not special to me anymore, and they've been replaced by a new band. I mean, your memories never go away. But it's hard to admit parts of your life are over, and that you'll always have a fondness for Flock or 9 or Wind in the Wires but your music doesn't grow with you. You grow and you mature and your tastes become more sophisticated and maybe you'd rather listen to "Offspring are Blank" over "Red Right Ankle." Doesn't mean they both have to be on your iPod.

So, the best thing to remember is that you're not deleting your memories, you're just not going to have to dig through your bag on the subway to skip these songs when they come on your iPod anymore. And the less crap you have to deal with on the subway, the better.