S.J. Dibai
I can't sum myself up in a mere 500 words. I can only sum up *others* in a mere 500 words. :-) Balancing the Revolution, the Racks and the Relationships.
http://www.crunkbox.com/articles/articles/72/1/Balancing-the-Revolution-the-Racks-and-the-Relationships/Page1.html
By S.J. Dibai
Published on 12/30/2007
Yes, technology is a wonderful thing. And yes, the digital revolution has made music distribution easier for artists and easier on consumers. But in the glitz and glamour of the new system, let us not forget how much the old order has to offer...
What Happened to the Experience?
Technology is a wonderful thing, isn't it? Once upon a time, people had to travel all the way out to their nearest record store, locate a particular release in the racks, perhaps ask an employee for help or even place a special order, and carry the record, tape or CD all the way back home. So much effort! And what if you didn't want the whole album but had to buy it in order to get the songs you were looking for? Not fair in the least. Thankfully, we have left the Stone Age behind. Now, most of our favorite songs are just a few clicks away on one of many digital music services. And we hardly ever have to worry about buying the whole album anymore; when we do, we have every right to cry foul.
In all seriousness, these technological advancements are great in some ways. I can get the latest single from one of Ireland's hottest indie rock bands or grab the debut album of an independent artist whose music is not available in any brick-and-mortar outlet-all in a matter of minutes without even having to leave home. If there is one song in particular I'm hankering for, chances are that I can find it and purchase it for 99 cents. Building an extensive, even comprehensive library is easier than ever before.
But whatever happened to the multi-sensory appeal of having something to hold and look at as well as listen to? The 45s with the classic label designs, the LPs and CDs with their cover art, liner notes, and album credits. Sure, some digital releases come with digital booklets, but that's hardly a comparable experience.
How about the fun of buying an album for a few songs, only to discover some other gems in its contents? And what about record stores? The thrill of going out to a shop, browsing through the inventory, maybe even finding a cool surprise in the racks or stumbling upon a great sale. And in the case of many independent retailers, there's an added personal dimension;: if you shop at a particular store frequently enough, you form a bond with the people who work there, perhaps making a few friends in the process. In addition, they might bust show you some measurable appreciation in return for your continued patronage. For example, I recently got a favorite store of mine to stock CDs by a local indie band I work with-the man who runs the store didn't even ask to hear the band first. He just trusted me implicitly, even deciding he'd rather deal through me than the head of the band's organization. That kind of respect simply cannot be bought on iTunes.
Yes, technology is a wonderful thing. And yes, the digital revolution has made music distribution easier for artists and easier on consumers. But in the glitz and glamour of the new system, let us not forget how much the old order has to offer. The very concepts of record stores and album art are already considered out of date. If we let them retreat into extinction, we will miss them dearly, and that's one lesson we won't want to learn the hard way.
In all seriousness, these technological advancements are great in some ways. I can get the latest single from one of Ireland's hottest indie rock bands or grab the debut album of an independent artist whose music is not available in any brick-and-mortar outlet-all in a matter of minutes without even having to leave home. If there is one song in particular I'm hankering for, chances are that I can find it and purchase it for 99 cents. Building an extensive, even comprehensive library is easier than ever before.
But whatever happened to the multi-sensory appeal of having something to hold and look at as well as listen to? The 45s with the classic label designs, the LPs and CDs with their cover art, liner notes, and album credits. Sure, some digital releases come with digital booklets, but that's hardly a comparable experience.
How about the fun of buying an album for a few songs, only to discover some other gems in its contents? And what about record stores? The thrill of going out to a shop, browsing through the inventory, maybe even finding a cool surprise in the racks or stumbling upon a great sale. And in the case of many independent retailers, there's an added personal dimension;: if you shop at a particular store frequently enough, you form a bond with the people who work there, perhaps making a few friends in the process. In addition, they might bust show you some measurable appreciation in return for your continued patronage. For example, I recently got a favorite store of mine to stock CDs by a local indie band I work with-the man who runs the store didn't even ask to hear the band first. He just trusted me implicitly, even deciding he'd rather deal through me than the head of the band's organization. That kind of respect simply cannot be bought on iTunes.
Yes, technology is a wonderful thing. And yes, the digital revolution has made music distribution easier for artists and easier on consumers. But in the glitz and glamour of the new system, let us not forget how much the old order has to offer. The very concepts of record stores and album art are already considered out of date. If we let them retreat into extinction, we will miss them dearly, and that's one lesson we won't want to learn the hard way.