I was so hooked. The sleek, gleaming curves and the ever so simplistic designs. I wanted to hold the shining monoliths in my hand, behold the intrinsic wonders each structure held and manipulate the world at the slightest touch. I had fallen for the sweet promises and for the lily-white innocence that oozed from every unit of its presence. I would have brought down the very mountains to gain access to the secrets they held, broken through the gets of heaven to claim its divine powers. I was, for all intents and purposes, theirs.
That was so long ago. Another lifetime, maybe. Now, the sparkling veneer has been tarnished; ruined by the stains of its own power. What shine remains is now a blinding curse, catching all in its wake and manipulating them to its deceitful process. Once we were promised freedom, and that promise now bites down like the snare it has become. The silvery towers that stand watch over the streets, drawing in the public like an electro-magnet more powerful than any Sun and parading the latest line of portable starlight available for them to take for their own. I have stood inside these galleries, just like they are now. I even made an attempt to rise above my station and become one of the annointed who stalk among the common-men, spreading the word so that they may be saved. How lucky it was that I was overlooked.
Now I know what is really true. These empowered and privileged few, so welcoming and resourceful, are simply herders. Shepherding the unworthy to a new life under the dominion of their masters. Pressing them to the new collective that resides under the spell of the unquestioned leader. Cosying those stronger in spirit so that they too may break. I have seen the darkness behind their eyes; the true intents that lurk beneath such good intentions. And I ran, slipping from the chain I had so nearly bound me to what I know now to be inevitable. The curse that can never be broken. Of this I know all too well.
For I am not truly free. Noone ever can be. But I was lucky. For some, it is far too late. They are tied for life to their masters' whim. Drained of their souls in exchange for each new upgrade, each step of progress that is made, each new vital enhancement that embeds itself into the everyday lives of those caught up in its wake. Each of us are now dependant. Each of us needs its influence in order to survive. Even now I am out of its mental hold, I am not free of its grip on my life. I am sure I never will. It is this that pushes me to fight against the shadow that has fallen over the glistening Ivory temples that once seemed like a new way of life. I can only hope that, one day, my cause will win out and I can rid myself of the plight that has such a strong hold on my life. But I do not hold such hope too strongly. The reach of the Apple spreads far and wide and its gaze can peer around any corner.
(Events have been exaggerated in the interests of entertainment. Hopefully.)
Showing posts with label iPod. Show all posts
Showing posts with label iPod. Show all posts
Friday, 8 April 2011
Friday, 23 July 2010
M-m-m-music
I have to work, so this may well be brief.
Though the digital age is quite wonderful in the way it gives us high-definition Television and films on discs, I can't help but feel it has robbed me of something wonderful. As I have been so recently buried in the amazing new Gorillaz album and so have been attached to my trusty iPod at any time when not attached to my desk, a laptop or my girlfriend, I have been made aware of something that has seemingly gone the way of the dodo with the slow passing of both the Cassette and the Compact disc: the playlist.
Music has been in my life FOREVER. I have vague memories of the joys of putting my Dad's stereo on full blast, air-guitaring my 8 year old heart out to the joys of AC/DC, Pink Floyd and Status Quo, or sitting in the back of the car in a heady daze of melodies and licks as the car tape player ran through one of the infinite number of tapes my Dad made for the countless holidays to Dartmoor or, at more exotic times, France. As I grew up I would start to make up my own tapes, hovering eargerly over the pause button as each song drew to a close. And then shouting when I realised I'd timed it wrong and the song still had another choras repeat to go through. But I loved it. Playlisting became my craft. I would slave away at a tape recorder like Elves reforging a broken sword. And this continued, seemingly without end. But it seems I was wrong.
I don't remember the last time I made a playlist. Actually, it was probably the CD I made for my girlfriend as an attempt to get her more into music. I still wait to see if it worked. That my girlfriend is not as into music as I am may have a small part to play in my lessening playlist creation, but I think I lay the blame more at the rise of the mp3. My final attempt at installing a similar love of music into my girlfriend was the gift of an iPod shuffle. In one swoop I had eliminated the need for playlists and mixtapes/CDs. With the space on even the smallest iPod being enough to contain at least 100 songs and with the birth of "shuffle" on every mp3 player and CD player removing the need for any detail in a play order, playlists have become obsolete. I feel like a part of me has died.
You can, of course, build playlists for the biger iPods but it feels like cheating. Building a playlist for yourself is less special if you have all the music on your iPod anyway and it isn't like you can give it to anyone. Plus, what with the internet allowing us to get songs from any number of resources, people will just rather get recommendations and download them themseves. And so, for me and others like me; who would come to life making sure each song complimented the others and ran smoothly into the following track like it was properly mixed, there is no outlet to make our work worthwhile. The only thing I can think of is radio. But it's not exactly easy for the average person to get a radio show. And not that many people listen to the radio anyway. All there is left is for us to go unto the west; our work done and our usefulness spent, and fade into history like vinyl and affordable gig tickets.
(If you would like a playlist forged by a skilled music-elf; please send £2, or whatever you can spare, to The Grey Havens, c/o Elrond, via Rivendell, Middle Earth. Thank You)
Though the digital age is quite wonderful in the way it gives us high-definition Television and films on discs, I can't help but feel it has robbed me of something wonderful. As I have been so recently buried in the amazing new Gorillaz album and so have been attached to my trusty iPod at any time when not attached to my desk, a laptop or my girlfriend, I have been made aware of something that has seemingly gone the way of the dodo with the slow passing of both the Cassette and the Compact disc: the playlist.
Music has been in my life FOREVER. I have vague memories of the joys of putting my Dad's stereo on full blast, air-guitaring my 8 year old heart out to the joys of AC/DC, Pink Floyd and Status Quo, or sitting in the back of the car in a heady daze of melodies and licks as the car tape player ran through one of the infinite number of tapes my Dad made for the countless holidays to Dartmoor or, at more exotic times, France. As I grew up I would start to make up my own tapes, hovering eargerly over the pause button as each song drew to a close. And then shouting when I realised I'd timed it wrong and the song still had another choras repeat to go through. But I loved it. Playlisting became my craft. I would slave away at a tape recorder like Elves reforging a broken sword. And this continued, seemingly without end. But it seems I was wrong.
I don't remember the last time I made a playlist. Actually, it was probably the CD I made for my girlfriend as an attempt to get her more into music. I still wait to see if it worked. That my girlfriend is not as into music as I am may have a small part to play in my lessening playlist creation, but I think I lay the blame more at the rise of the mp3. My final attempt at installing a similar love of music into my girlfriend was the gift of an iPod shuffle. In one swoop I had eliminated the need for playlists and mixtapes/CDs. With the space on even the smallest iPod being enough to contain at least 100 songs and with the birth of "shuffle" on every mp3 player and CD player removing the need for any detail in a play order, playlists have become obsolete. I feel like a part of me has died.
You can, of course, build playlists for the biger iPods but it feels like cheating. Building a playlist for yourself is less special if you have all the music on your iPod anyway and it isn't like you can give it to anyone. Plus, what with the internet allowing us to get songs from any number of resources, people will just rather get recommendations and download them themseves. And so, for me and others like me; who would come to life making sure each song complimented the others and ran smoothly into the following track like it was properly mixed, there is no outlet to make our work worthwhile. The only thing I can think of is radio. But it's not exactly easy for the average person to get a radio show. And not that many people listen to the radio anyway. All there is left is for us to go unto the west; our work done and our usefulness spent, and fade into history like vinyl and affordable gig tickets.
(If you would like a playlist forged by a skilled music-elf; please send £2, or whatever you can spare, to The Grey Havens, c/o Elrond, via Rivendell, Middle Earth. Thank You)
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