Bye Boy

Breaking up with Spotify

New low tech set up

The ubiquity of streaming has been causing me much consternation lately. As do so many aspects of modern life.

I was digging through the many boxes under my bed, looking for something (I can’t remember what), when I came across my humble collection of CD’s. Forlorn and forgotten they have been gathering dust for years now. Looking through that discordant array of music, various incarnations of my past self is faithfully represented there.

I grew up with CD’s. My father, being a music fanatic, used to get them out from the library (yes you could borrow CD’s from the library, you still can actually) and burn them on the home computer. He’d painstakingly recreate their covers, although the picture quality was always lacking. This hobby faded away when once we moved to Australia and up a tax bracket or two. Although never particularly wealthy, we were then well off enough to go once a month to JBHIFI and buy a handful of CD’s to add to the collection. A collection that he meticulously catalogued. Not all of it is too my taste, but it was as good a musical education as one could hope for. There were lots of 70’s British punk and Prog Rock,there was plenty of Zeppelin and Sabbath, 80’s classics, and a smattering of 90’s British indie rock, and an ABBA album or two. No collection is complete without a copy of ABBA Gold after all.

So, it seemed only natural that when I reached my adolescence and began to explore the world of popular culture for myself that I would spend some of my meager wage starting a CD collection of my own.

This was the era in which the iPod was born. My father had the very first Classic iPod (surprisingly it still works), and I had a hot pink iPod Mini – the big chunky one with the clip on the back. It was a most cherished birthday gift. At this point the iPod hadn’t rendered CD’s completely obsolete as downloading music from iTunes(or illegally from LimeWire) was a pain in the ass. We still bought CD’s; we just put them onto our iPods by way of the computer. It all sounds so very tedious and labour intensive now. But that was the point. It was still a hobby that required your active participation.

My first car was too old for an audio jack of any kind, but it had a CD player. So, on my hour-long drives to uni everyday I would listen to albums all the way through. Devouring artists catalogues album by album. I got to know the track list, knowing the order of songs off by heart. I learnt to listen, really listen. These things are whole works of art, and take on new and interesting forms when consumed this was, not as singles. I didn’t jump in and out, cherry picking songs.

There were albums for every mood, either reflecting them, or creating them. There’s a kind of knowing, a sense of closeness that develops when you spend time like that with an artist. I was a votive, giving myself over with every listen. Some notable favourites were; Feist’s the Reminder, Joy division’s Unknown Pleasures, Vampire Weekends self titled debut, Cub Sport’s This is Our Vice, Lorde’s Pure Heroine, anything by Arctic Monkeys, a Best of the Smith’s, and Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars (a perfect album from beginning to end if such a thing is to exist).

And there they all were under my bed.

In the last 5 years I’ve only listened to 3 albums all the way through.

1. Wet Leg’s self titled debut

2. The Last Dinner Party’s Prelude to Ecstasy

3. Lizzo’s Cuz I Love You

And I would have only made it all the way through a few times. I have, like many, been drawn into the convenience of streaming.

Spotify has been revolutionary. As a service it is unmatched for users and artist exploitation. It’s a subscription service that has managed to completely change how I, and I’d wager many others, consume music.

 What at first appeared to be a wonder (all that music at your fingertips) has turned out to be a poison apple. All of this choice is only an illusion. I am now a slave to the ‘algorithm’. Music is selected for me based on previous listening and some kind of equation (the exact technology of which is rather beyond me). Exploring the various ‘shuffle’ options, including Spotify DJ, I’ve found that it spits the same 20-30 songs back at me. There is no real variety, just the same things I’ve listened to before. And I imagine that this is some attempt on the part of the algorithm to give me what it thinks I want. And failing rather spectacularly may I add. My listening has shrunk down so much smaller than my meager CD collection.

And the other problem is that of decision fatigue. With so much music theoretically available to me, I have found myself frozen – unable to decide what I want to listen too. And thus I end up letting the algorithm pick for me, with previously mentioned disappointing results. This isn’t a problem exclusive to streaming music. In a world that promises infinite choice, there is the ever-looming fear of ‘missing out’ on something better. Streaming TV, scrolling social media, buying the next best thing… my brain is over saturated with the sheer volume of stuff. Now don’t get it twisted, I believe in the democratizing of markets and any system that gives the little guy a chance can’t be all bad (although that seems to be an unfulfilled promise too). But fuck, I’m exhausted. I don’t want to have to choose between all the music ever recorded. It’s too much.

These streaming services also take you out of the thing. Supposedly focused on user experience, the ease of interface ironically makes the user more disengaged. Or at least it makes this user more disengaged. When you can only get one album, you are much more selective. Really considering the purchase, and therefore the art itself. Then you take that CD, or record home and spend hours reveling in your choice. CD’s have artwork, and little booklets. There is a tactile delight to handling them. It makes the music more real somehow.

Not to mention the unequal perk of actually owning physical media. That CD or DVD or book is actually yours. The streaming service can’t just decide to delete it one day, or edit its content. Streaming is essentially being downgraded to a perpetual renter.

I hate it.

Now I know the argument here is that physical media is well physical and therefore takes up space in storing it. Now I see this as a perk too. You have to like something enough to keep it in your house. And if you aren't certain you can borrow it from your local library first. I mean we should all be using our local libraries more anyway. They are repositories of wonder and delight and the more you use them the more funding they will hopefully get.

All of this has led me to an undeniable truth; it’s time I break up with Spotify. As I sit at my local café writing this my old Walkman is sat beside my laptop, spinning a CD. It’s garnered me some curious looks that's for sure. And as an added perk I’ve been able to leave my phone in the car.

I feel calmer, more focused. 

I feel like a kid again.

It’s not about what I loose, but what I can gain. So, I’m joining the analogue revolution and discarding Spotify like a perpetually disappointing ex boyfriend.

You don’t know me…