This weekend I ran an errand, one that I do once or twice a week, one which I usually enjoy. I bought new CDs. Often, I try to do this at the Candyman. But sometimes, I'll admit it, I go to Borders. As it usually happens when I go to Borders, I had a slight panic attack upon entering-you know, tightened jaw, slight trickle of moisture running down the spine, really, really sweaty armpits), because the entire experience produces much inner conflict and, often, rage. I would venture to say most folks in Santa Fe would agree with me that shelling out $20 for a CD that might-might!-contain four good songs is gut-wrenching enough, but the insult-adding experience of spending said money at a big, non-local store, one with no personality and whose corporate buyers are saddled with the most banal taste in the history of music, transforms something that is normally an enjoyable experience into something akin to having your teeth cleaned with a garden rake. By the time I leave, I feel like a walking Ralph Steadman drawing: eyes agog and bloodshot, knees bending at odd angles and fist clenched with a startling anger.
Well, you might say to me, just download music-it's so much easier. True, but "easier" doesn't equal "fun." And, dammit, fun is, believe it or not, an integral part of music. Buying music should not make you feel nauseated, and giving up $20 for a disc with only a few good songs on it makes me reach for the Pepto quicker than you can say "Beyoncé."
This type of feeling, I believe, is what sends people to the Internet in droves. "Easier" is still not necessarily "fun," but at least it's not "gut-wrenching" or "panic-attack-inducing," and at this point, sadly, we'll take what we can get. A second reason goes back to the crappy album issue. Paying for 13 mediocre songs when you're only going to listen to one good one is plain foolish, especially when you can download the one song for less than a buck.
The problem is, the act of downloading music-for all its good points, and there are many-moves us one step further away from the visceral thrill-the fun-of purchasing music. The advent of CDs versus actual records was tough enough: There used to be the adrenaline-filled moment when you finally got that new Zepplin album home and tore the cellophane off, slowly opening the cover as the smell of cardboard and…
potential
wafted out. It was the birth of a new world. It was a moment of truth. Now, the moment of truth involves a curse-laden struggle, as you claw desperately at first cellophane, then that freakin' sticker, two barriers to the music inside, barriers that seem so miniscule they should never cause the headaches that they do. So, fine, between the packaging of CDs and their general lack of quality, you start downloading instead.
In the meantime, music companies have insisted for years now that the decline of sales and their ever-decreasing (though still monolithic) hold on the music industry is a direct result of the downloading of music-legally and illegally-from the Internet.
Wrong. They are just dead wrong about that. The problem is the inverse: Folks are fleeing to the Internet-the less fun place-because the music these companies produce is just plain bad. Which brings us right back around to the question of price: $20 for 13 bad songs and one good one? Or 99 cents for one good one?
As the chatter goes round and round about the issue, one thing is for certain: The art of making an album, an intentional, cohesive lineup of solid songs, one after another, has been cast aside for now (and I'm not necessarily talking elaborate concept albums or bloated classic rock). Singles rule the day. And that's OK, as the pendulum of such things swings as it will. But it's a shame in the sense that bands like And You Will Know Us By the Trail of the Dead, whose new album
World's Apart
is a sweeping, intentional, coherent piece of wonderful albumness, will be ignored by the general public and embraced only by the following: 1) Snooty rock critics; 2) People from Austin; 3) People with subscriptions to Spin magazine.
Which is a stupid situation. So I'm going to do something counter-intuitive. I'm going to ask you to go purchase a CD at Borders, specifically
Worlds Apart
, because it's the first best album of the year. And maybe then Borders and the record companies will think about what's important. And goddammit, it's time to make this fun again.
