I don't seem to see these readings on ICON. Could we post to the wiki perhaps? Thanks!:)
How does the age of the cloud effect music collecting?
As a collector of recordings, I have had positive and negative experiences with "the cloud." iTunes Match, for example, is a great tool for accessing one's entire collection on the go. As most collectors' stockpile of recordings will not fit on mobile devices, iCloud bridges the gap by streaming a user's content. Services like Spotify, however, hinder music collecting or, at least, change its landscape dramatically. Spotify's user interface makes collecting (saving) music rather cumbersome. While it is possible to "collect" albums on Spotify, users cannot search their collections, making it difficult to track down particular recordings. Instead, it is easier to search Spotify's entire library (diminishing the need to "collect" recordings). Additionally, the vastness of Spotify's music collection greatly decreases the frequency that the collector "desires" a particular record. Additionally, there is a lack of a feeling of "ownership."
While the concept of purchasing music on a track-by-track basis is not new, it also changes music collecting and music appreciation in general. There has yet to be a non-professional musician I have spoken with who listens to music on an album-by-album basis. Often, many professional musicians (especially those not in the jazz community) do the same. I find this to be extremely problematic. Artists' projects are often album-by-album, not track-by-track. Therefore, when a listener only chooses one or two tracks from an album, they are not making a sound (pun intended :)) judgment of the artist's work. Rather, they are judging one or two isolated tracks which, more often than not, do not tell the whole story. A literary simile would be reading one or two chapters of an eight-chapter book and claiming an accurate assessment of the work as a whole.
Lee Marshall's article about music collectors in the digital age presents a reanalysis of record collecting that is both personal and insightful (perhaps because of his reflexive narrative). I was struck by how closely Marshall's stance parallels Nick Hornby's character, Rob Flemming, from his book, High Fidelity. As suggested by Marshall, Rob consistently reorders his record collection, both physically and discursively, to make sense of his life, himself. He constructs his own identity through the process of ordering, "blurring…the objective and the subjective" such that the "collection is always a reflection of the collector's subjectivity" (Marshall, 64).
Through his personal account, Marshall draws me into his article through a reflection on my own hoarding practices of digital music files. Around the same time as the emergence of Napster, I was working at a software company, giving me access to high-speed Internet (or what was considered such at the time) at home. I subscribed to eMusic, an early legal downloading site, which for $25 a month offered up and all-you-can-download buffet (with a one-month free trial. With one computer at home and three in my office at work, I downloaded over 80 GB of music over a three-month period. I didn't think of my practice as hoarding, per se, although it certainly was. But as pointed out by Benjamin (via Marshall), these thousands of MP3s were made meaningful largely because of my practices of sorting them. Over the ensuing years, I spent a lot of time organizing my files, sorting them into folders, tweaking the ID3 tags and other metadata to suit my needs, my listening habits.
A few years ago, I finally gave in to iTunes insistence on organizing my files for me. As I look back, I feel I have lost my connection with my music collection, relying too much on the bloated interface of iTunes to get me what I want. There is much I never listen to anymore, since I no longer browse through the hierarchies of folders directly. While I enjoy the instant access of Spotify, I'm hesitant to part with my 35,000 file database. Streaming music offers only a temporary, fleeting relationship on borrowed time, pre-sorted in a way that "provides little scope for individual modification" (Marshall, 68), shifting my attention away from a relationship to the music and toward the service's "branded musical experiences" (Morris and Powers, 2). My hard drive, on the other hand, represents my passion, desires, and personal commitment to musicians, sounds, and life experiences.
If all the music are stored in the database, what happens if someone hacks and damages the system?
Good question!! I haven’t experienced glitches while streaming music but it has happened within my own collection. A couple of computers ago, I ripped all of my cds to my computer. During the transfers, I have had some files become corrupt and these files no longer play. Fortunately, I own the cds. I can re-rip anytime….that is if I ever think to do it.
In today's new music industry of on-demand stream sharing music is more convenient with more controls and choice. So what happens to the artists' salaries?
“Everything on Spotify is equally valuable or, to put it another way, equally valueless.” (Marshall 69) This reminds me of a quote I read one time from Vince Gill: “The devaluation of music and what it’s now deemed to be worth is laughable to me. My single costs 99 cents. That’s what a [single] cost in 1960. On my phone, I can get an app for 99 cents that makes fart noises — the same price as the thing I create and speak to the world with. Some would say the fart app is more important. It’s an awkward time. Creative brains are being sorely mistreated.” How can any artist hope for success or any amount of income from streaming services? Although YouTube is not “free,” we don’t have to pay specifically to use it. I’ve seen countless albums from upcoming artists which have been ripped straight to YouTube. I may or may not have listened to these, and if I have, I will admit that I feel guilty because I’m listening completely for free.
How does the age of the Cloud affect the music collecting?
I don’t think people are “collecting” any more. People seem to listen to the hits only. I agree with Jim that it is important to view an album as a complete work. When we listen to only segments, we don’t grasp the flow between songs. Some of my favorite albums are those with short transition tracks between songs. When I listen to these albums, I always listen straight through rather than selecting tracks. We don’t (always) listen to specific movements from longer classical works. Why should we listen to popular music differently?
While the self-important and principled musician in me wants to say that I do, in fact, collect recordings and I believe others should do the same, the honest truth is that I don't care and don't think it matters. This comes to me after many years of trying to collect and being prevented from doing so because of technology.
My dad is somewhat of a collector. Not in an audiophillic sense, more just because he doesn't throw anything away. I remember growing up and looking through his collection of records (stylized cover art by Elton John, Cream, and Steely Dan stand out in my mind), and his large collection of then-current tapes and later CDs. I remember thinking that I wanted a collection of music to show my kids someday. In middle school and high school, the CD binder filled with my collection went everywhere with me. Around the same time, P2P music sharing software was introduced to me. There I would download anything and everything friends would recommend to me. If I liked it, I would buy it at the local music store. Somewhere in high school, this desire to purchase what I liked stopped. Not for financial or convenience reasons, but because my brand new iPod meant I no longer needed to carry my CD binder around, and also meant that no one else cared about it anymore.
I didn't jump on the bandwagon and switch to iTunes as my primary record store, though I did use it to organize all of the mp3s I had collected over time. In college, listening to music for fun became less important to me, probably because listening was something required for school. I had no need for purchasing or owning albums. On the rare occasion that I did purchase something, it rarely got listened to more than once. Pandora took care of all the "fun listening" I needed.
Enter Spotify and the rise of YouTube as a music player. These two tools are invaluable to me. I have re-entered the world of listening for fun and relaxation. These two services allow me to choose anything. To seek out new music is easy and usually has positive results. To listen to old favorites only takes the click of a button. I will mention, I don't generally listen to playlists or track to track. I do enjoy taking in an artists' entire album. But that doesn't mean I need to have a physical copy to display for all to see. That's what the shoebox in my attic is for.
Harvey
1. If all the music are stored in the database, what happens if someone hacks and damages the system?
With the exception of a malicious targeted attack thats purpose is to completely destroy files, with the implementation of the cloud and back up drives there are many fail safes for this kind of thing happening now. In terms of mp3's, you've technically purchased a license to that file and can re-download the file in the case of online music providers like iTunes.
2. Streaming music is somehow like fast food; it stores a vast collection of music in a short period. How can people really absorb that huge content? Since streaming music is not too expensive, does anyone really listen carefully if the music is played more than once.
I feel there are a couple different things to address in these questions. Is streaming music really like fast food? Fast food to me not only implies speed of product delivery, but has a inherent connotation of lower quality. For me, streaming music doesn't have to be lower quality depending on your set up. Comparing Spotify to Mcdonalds has an inherent connotation of lower quality, hence why it's McDonalds and not another fast food chain with higher quality fare. I also don't see the relevance of cost in the context of the question as I don't value music by the financial amount I paid for it but more by the connection I have with it - maybe that's not true of everyone. Certainly an argument could be made that listeners have the ability to listen to music they value less via streaming services (as part of the ability to explore music that streaming services provide - even with limited catalogs). The second part could be asked as a stand alone question "does anyone really listen carefully if the music is played more than once." How does that apply to any music we listen to, do we listen more closely or less closely after multiple listenings? Simply put I think it depends on the piece, and the mood of the listener. Sometimes I listen to Mahler with a great deal of concentration and end up noticing new lines I may not have noticed before, but sometimes I also put it on and let it do its thing and not really think about it too much.
Morris and Powers
1. In today's new music industry of on-demand stream sharing music is more convenient with more controls and voice. So what happens to the artists' salaries?
A topic that has definitely come up in discussion during class. While this takes away power from the Record company top down model, artists can take more control over their marketing and profit through use of the internet (i.e. youtube, lindsey sterling). I think part of the point the Harvey article makes is that the creation of the streaming service model is the record companies response to the "unlimited access" that users once had when they owned an mp3.
Marshall
1. How does the age of the Cloud affect the music collecting?
We don't collect music anymore as much as we make playlists. People still identify with their music, and want to go back and listen to it again.
2. How does the music industry survive the age of the Cloud?
I think it already has, and streaming services are a great example. The market has adapted to the needs of its consumers. Listeners can still purchase and own individual tracks or CDs which they feel they should own, and then can have the wide berth of choices in a separate streaming service. I know in my case mp3's are still very prevalent because there are many things I can't get via streaming (especially specific classical recordings). Certainly Naxos does a decent job, but does not want to pay overly expensive licensing on more expensive modern material.
How does the age of the Cloud affect the music collecting? How does the music industry survive the age of the Cloud?
Marshall brings up the idea that "the collection is always a reflection of the collector's subjectivity" (64). I still think this rings true, even in the age of the Cloud. Playlists can function as collections and they seem to be indexical of the collector/listener's subjective experiences of the music. Rather than being fueled by Marshall's notions of desire and scarcity, playlists are curated to develop or enhance the listener's personal experiences. When Grooveshark was still around, I had playlists that were often lists of songs that I couldn't get out of my head, and as a result, these playlists were a chronological index of musical binges. I also had playlists catered to (as we discussed last week) enhance a primary activity, such as paper-writing. After a break from these songs and re-listening again after several months, I am immediately taken back to the moments when I was rushing to finish a paper (and I played the same song on repeat for 45 minutes) or when I was incredibly upset by something. However, this doesn't happen every time I listen to a song. Instead, this seems to be an experience that occurs during that initial re-listening after a hiatus. Ultimately, to tie this all the back to our initial discussions of Small and Turino, music listening (and music collecting) is focused around the shift in perspective from music-as-object to music-as-experience; streaming and Cloud services are adapting to this.
How does the age of the Cloud affect music collecting?
I was in grade school when my family bought their first CD player, and it was beyond extraordinary. It had five slots for five CD's, which you could shuffle or play in order or repeat. It was a huge shift from the tape player we had used before. It gave more choice, but perhaps less control (there were options as to what to listen to, how many times, etc.). We could make a playlist! My mother would put on Christmas Carols, five CDs, and play them all day long. Then, when I was a junior in high school, iPods were coming out. I remember being in awe at the amount of music, and and the choices, you had when using an iPod. I had an iPod shuffle. There was a physicality to it, as there was no screen and you could only shuffle or hit backwards or forwards. I made playlists of music to listen to on the school bus, and the biggest feature of this new technology was that these playlists were mine, and I could erase them and have a new one at any time. So my music could grow with me. Then, I bought a huge iPod. This iPod had thinner buttons, but a screen that was more tablet-like, and I had even more options for listening. When the iPod broke, I stopped listening to music on/with a specific music-listening device (i.e. disc man, iPod shuffle, iPod) and instead went to YouTube and Grooveshark, a platform for music-listening, because ownership was becoming a burden of sorts. Devices break, and not having the time and energy to deal with what music I "own" and what I can listen with, I now just go to the internet to listen through various streaming services. Streaming from the "Cloud" has made music-listening easier, perhaps less class-oriented, too.
My personal relationship with streaming has been “spotty” (pun intended). I imagine generational influences come into play, but there are times when I just feel the need to physically “own” something, and streaming it from a service doesn’t feel the same.
In the readings this week, as well as a number of other readings throughout the semester, the idea has recurred that the ultimate goal of streaming is to make available to any consumer, at any time, any piece of music, anywhere, on any device. In the Morris and Powers article, Daniel Ek (Spotify) states that Spotify envisons a future in which a musical soundtrack encircles us at all times. I believe there is an underlying assumption in all of these readings that such a future is, without question, a good thing and something that everybody wants.
When I was a child, about twice a year broadcast TV (remember that anyone?) would present “The Wizard of Oz”. At that time, there was no netflix, no VHS tapes – if you wanted to watch the “Wizard of Oz”, you waited all year until it was broadcast on your local channel. It was an event – a family gathering, a celebration. We all looked forward to it, cherished it, and enjoyed it thoroughly.
If Daniel Ek’s goal of unlimited choice at any time anywhere is achieved, media may cease to be something special – it will cease to be an event – no longer a family activity. It will instead become an expected necessity, as the article states, like water and electricity.
I believe this may cheapen the value of and our appreciation for media of all types.
Right now, when I want to hear a song that I have in my itunes library, I click on it, I look forward to it, and I cherish the moment. Yes, I can replay it endlessly – but I tend not to do that; I cherish it as a special event.
In Daniel Ek’s future, my fear is that my enjoyment of music and media will become an appreciation for digital white noise. I will no longer savor the music, I will instead expect it and – be disturbed when my background noise of choice is not there.