It’s finally here. After months of waiting, wondering, reading every article looking for clues, it has arrived. It requires me to get into a car, to physically enter a building and to search until the coveted item comes into view. Instantly the artwork whispers another clue of what I’m about to discover; I pick it up, feeling its weight, feeling my pulse quicken. It seems like the guy at the front of the line always has to be chatty, going off about some trivial thing. Can’t he tell how long I’ve been waiting? Waiting, fidgeting until it’s my turn. The hard plastic shell is unlocked, removed and I can see it clearly for the first time, open to the world and also waiting, waiting to escape its seal and breathe again. And then it’s mine, mine all mine.
Anyone who can relate to this experience has probably listened to quite a few albums. That used to be how music was consumed. Sure, you had the radio, but if you wanted to hear anything beyond the singles, you’d need to acquire a record, a cassette, or a CD. Opening it for the first time, admiring the artwork and reading the liner notes or lyrics was a welcoming ritual conducted for each new member of the collection. Time was set aside, distractions were exiled and then it was time to press play.
Yep, much like people easily set a few hours aside to watch a movie, we used to set time aside to focus on listening to an album. It makes perfect sense; an album is a piece of art just as a movie, a work of literature or a sculpture is. An album can take you on a journey, it can tell you a story. It can teach you and change you; it can offend you and challenge you. It can delight you and inspire you. One album can do all of this.
It is impossible to understand the impact that the medium can have without trying it for yourself. Just like reading a book, much is left to the imagination. Music becomes the plot line on which your mind builds a personal and intricate experience, a unique relationship forms between you and the music. The music becomes yours, in a way. What you pull from it may not be what the musician first put in. In that way, music is magical.
As with any art form, some albums are more intricate than others. There are plenty of great albums that were created without the intention of being anything beyond a collection of songs. But there are also plenty of great albums that strive to jump off the wax and forge their own dimension. The only way to discover which albums are which is by listening to them.
This is good advice which I have to keep reminding myself to take. I have always been a fan of mixed tapes and quickly became a fanatic when music streaming entered my life. Where before I only had access to songs within my collection, streaming gave me access to songs in everyone’s collections. I have been like a kid in a candy store, I have gorged myself on unlimited selection. It is safe to say that I understand the playlist appeal. I use my playlists ALL THE TIME; as radio stations while I do laundry, as soundtracks for events or gatherings, when I’m baking, when I’m in the shower... anywhere, anytime.
However, my playlist obsession comes after decades of consuming music in album form. Albums that would play on repeat in my car for weeks at time. Albums made of wax and albums wound in tape. Albums played with candles lit and wine flowing. Albums heard from a cozy beanbag; albums heard from a breezy lanai. I painted my bedroom when AM by the Arctic Monkeys was released, the notes of that album are buried in the paint that encloses me every night. I spent a weekend with friends, nestled in a cozy cabin amongst pine trees; I can’t listen to Stone Temple Pilots’ Core without taking that trip again.
So many of my memories are tied up with the albums that were on repeat while I made them. I cherish this; I am lucky to have so many strands I can grasp at to bring old memories back into view.
I have gotten the impression that younger folks today, those who have grown up with music streaming, may not be familiar with the concept of listening to an entire album. Perhaps a paradigm change is upon us, perhaps this was inevitable. Perhaps my own experiences prevent me from embracing the prospect of leaving albums behind. They have so enriched my life that I can’t imagine living without them.
There is something about music that makes me want to share it. Therefore, I cannot help but to (gently) urge anyone who has never done so to take the time to focus on an album. Just to see if you like it. Put the phone aside. Don’t multi-task. Put on headphones if you want to. Just sit there and listen. Let the album come to life, hear it like a book. Try it just in case you are amongst those of us who are helpless to resist the spell of a well made music album. You owe it to yourself.
There are so many choices, so many places to start. Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon is one great option. It has broad appeal, it isn’t super long, and it’s classic album royalty.
It probably doesn’t matter so much where you start; however, just so long as whatever you choose speaks to you in some way.
If you were going to recommend an album to someone of the “playlist generation,” which would it be?
Hey, Playlist Generation…
I recently bought the most recent Andy Partridge EP, My Failed Songwriting Career, only available on vinyl, and it has me in a full-on XTC binge. No, not binge, savoring. It’s a bittersweet listen as he has said he is done with making music so this may be the last I/we get from one of the best songwriters of all time.
I feel like the playlist generation is already embracing the album. Vinyl’s resurgence isn’t just boomers and Gen-X’ers reliving their youth. It’s rather heartening to see the rebirth of brick and mortar record stores. I feel a shift away from the “everything all at once” model to a cultural desire to savor. Am I looking through rose colored glasses? Maybe.