Realizing You Already Have What You Want
For the second time this year, I was reminded of this lesson: sometimes, the thing you want is right there in front of you.
Maybe humans are optimistic by nature, or maybe media in the 21st century has convinced us that 'the grass is always greener.' But sometimes the grass is just as green right where you are!
The first time this happened this year was when I was thinking deeply about what I want to do career-wise with the next few years of my life. While my job certainly fulfilled my childhood dreams, I felt it lacked the impact that I desire my adult life to have. Coincidentally, Blue Origin's New Glenn rocket launched for the first time reminding me what aerospace technology is all about—not scratching a billionaire's itch, but working to improve life for all on Earth.
I had been thinking on this for the three years since I graduated college, but I forgot to seriously consider if my current path was actually providing the impact I wanted to have. By chance, I was emphatically reminded "it does!" at the crucial moment.
I made the same mistake again this fall. I'll admit—I am one of the most easy people to fall for a techno-fix. And often, I seek techno-fixes as solutions to my often techno-problems.
This time around, I realized that I am too easily distracted by my phone when going to play music. How frustrating! I just want to open Spotify and queue some music I enjoy, only to be distracted by notifications or the lure of apps that I know are bound to be highly stimulating.
The obvious solution to my problem, I thought, was to ditch Spotify for an iPod.
Unfortunately, this transition was easier said than done because I didn't own much of my own music. I owned a hand full of records, but at the time, I classified them as a completely different listening experience.
So before thinking about getting an iPod, I needed to get my hands on an even older piece of technology—CDs.
Late this summer and throughout the fall, I began raiding used music stores like a maniac. Admittedly, the hunt for CDs was thrilling. The dopamine you're are rewarded with when you find the exact CD you are looking for at a fantastic price is a feeling like no other.
Side note: I'm 25, which means that my parents are of the generation that doesn't stream music, owned a lot of records, and now own a lot of CDs. While building my iTunes library, I had so much fun discussing and sharing the music I was buying with my dad. I don't get the same experience sharing a link to a song with a friend. All to say—I enjoyed this serendipitous experience sharing physical music with someone else.
Fast forward four months to now, as I am having the realization that the physical media listening experience is what I was looking for the whole time. I had it with records even before this 'search for music to fill up the iPod' began.
It's as simple as turning on the stereo system, putting a record or CD on, and enjoying the music—no device (and certainly no other techno-fix) required.
I was once again reminded that I already had the thing I was after.
P.S.—Turning off my Personal Radio Station
I'm too young for the album listening experience to have make an impression on my childhood. Growing up, I kind of just started buying songs I enjoyed from iTunes, and later, streaming songs I enjoyed from various artists and albums. In retrospect, technology of this time was built around making it as easy as possible to legally create your own mixtape or radio station.
This was awesome and empowering, but has now—in my opinion—taken a turn for the worse. I think the topic deserves longer thought, but in short, the algorithmically-generated listening experience does a perfect job of playing exactly the music you want exactly when you want it, but does so in a way that completely strips the art out of the music.
Through my journey back to physical media, I so thankful to have discovered the beauty and uniqueness of the album era.
To me, the album is a format of music meant to be consumed cover-to-cover. To cherry-pick an example, I don't think a prog-rock album like 2112 would make an impact or get any plays if it were released today. The song 2112 itself is a 20 minute commitment. That simply doesn't get played on the radio or recommended by Spotify.
Furthermore, I believe that the context of songs is important—and I certainly appreciate certain songs when I hear them in the context of the other songs on the album, as intended by the artist.
Lastly, I am thankful that there are still artists making music like this today. I particularly enjoy Fontaines D.C. and Foals.