How do you listen to new music?
By “new music,” I don’t mean in the modern classical concert sense, that awkward spectrum that hovers between really good and/or interestingly original to contrived, derivative, and just plain bad. No no no, I just mean music that is new to you, music that is generally, for good reason, unapologetically contrived and derivative; that catchy pop album you got illegally from a friend who couldn’t stop talking about it, forced it on you, and awaited your belligerent praise in return for such a selfless act of hipster heroism.
I’ve yet to determine the value (personal, societal, etc) of blogging, so to begin I thought I might try to figure out some method of determining the depreciation value of a new song that you just can’t stop playing, since I’m currently in the thick of it myself.
So when you receive this new gem, and have given it enough listens to know you really can’t live without it, do you then shuffle it away in the rotation of the other haphazardly procured items that have grown stale from overuse? Or do you, like me, loop it endlessly, on your computer, on your stereo, in your car, walking down the street on your iPod, so that you are nary a second away from its soothing and comforting cocoon of expected bliss?
What, then, is the shelf life of a song played to death? People often lament radio and the relentless looping of top 40 hits as somehow “ruining” songs, but if it is self-inflicted, is it somehow less murderous?
The song is “Boy Lilikoi” by Jónsi of Sigur Rós and it just has the perfect blend of highs and lows to be suitable at morning coffee, on the precor at the gym, scouring the toilet, walking aimlessly throughout the city, its anthem conveniently and beautifully morphing to complement any and every daily activity. I’m almost tempted to buy a waterproof radio for the shower and jerry-rig a boombox to my Vespa just to experiment how long I could loop it before throwing the device clear across the room in disgusted upheaval and swearing off music for good.
I know the healthy and “wise” answer: admit the presence of the vice, and carefully wean off it, but should this be done slowly or cold turkey? The idea scares me to no end…