old paper
/
I read an article a whole back about the end of the "audiophile". The central theme or point was that we have changed how we "listen" to music. Not long ago a huge stereo system called a "hi-fi" (high fidelity) comprised of various components anchored the living room or den. One could simply sit and listen to high quality sound.
Two things changed. The masses now use music as background while cleaning or playing with their children. Music is played in the car while we drive; it's piped into waiting rooms, elevators, and malls. It has become a secondary stimuli. The second thing that changed is we traded the analog bulk for digital convenience. The high quality has been sacrificed for quantity and ease of use. The iPod can hold thousands of songs; pocket-sized and cheaply.
So, how we listen to music has changed. We don't really see the value in things that are do easily attained and/or disposed of. New songs are easily downloaded and forgotten. There is no feel like remembering the sunshine outside the store when you bought the Axis: Bold as Love at the used record store in Madison. Who remembers when they downloaded and album off iTunes???
Photographs
We can remember the photo albums from our childhoods. Stacks of hem at our parents house. Now we keep all our photos in our phone or on the Facebook. We Tweet them out and filter them on Instagram. But I don't have hardly any "physical" photos in my house. It's a bit sad how one glitch in the endless digital code 1 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 1 1 1 1 0 1 01 11 0 0 0 1 0 1 1 0 0 1 could make so many memories that we thought were forever saved gone; gone forever.
We have the instant satisfaction of approving or deleting of the photos we take haphazardly. Remember; remember how exciting it was to open the pouch of glossy 3x5's? There were surprises; so what if some of the pictures had a finger blurring the edge. Who is this random person in the back of the picture of your brother? Pictures get old and have character and history. That book on the shelf ages; the pages turn yellow; the smell. The smell of old paper.
Somethings are not always better even though they are yanno better.
Two things changed. The masses now use music as background while cleaning or playing with their children. Music is played in the car while we drive; it's piped into waiting rooms, elevators, and malls. It has become a secondary stimuli. The second thing that changed is we traded the analog bulk for digital convenience. The high quality has been sacrificed for quantity and ease of use. The iPod can hold thousands of songs; pocket-sized and cheaply.
So, how we listen to music has changed. We don't really see the value in things that are do easily attained and/or disposed of. New songs are easily downloaded and forgotten. There is no feel like remembering the sunshine outside the store when you bought the Axis: Bold as Love at the used record store in Madison. Who remembers when they downloaded and album off iTunes???
Photographs
We can remember the photo albums from our childhoods. Stacks of hem at our parents house. Now we keep all our photos in our phone or on the Facebook. We Tweet them out and filter them on Instagram. But I don't have hardly any "physical" photos in my house. It's a bit sad how one glitch in the endless digital code 1 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 1 1 1 1 0 1 01 11 0 0 0 1 0 1 1 0 0 1 could make so many memories that we thought were forever saved gone; gone forever.
We have the instant satisfaction of approving or deleting of the photos we take haphazardly. Remember; remember how exciting it was to open the pouch of glossy 3x5's? There were surprises; so what if some of the pictures had a finger blurring the edge. Who is this random person in the back of the picture of your brother? Pictures get old and have character and history. That book on the shelf ages; the pages turn yellow; the smell. The smell of old paper.
Somethings are not always better even though they are yanno better.
