I recently noticed something about myself. Often times when I hear a song from the past I tend to remember the media form that I originally listened to it on. Brewer and Shipley's One Toke Over The Line was on a 45rpm record. The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, Dr Hook and the Medicine Show, Rod Stewart, Supertramp, Led Zeppelin, Funkadelic, and Alice Cooper were among the majority I remember were on vinyl albums. Nazareth, Bad Company, and Peter Frampton were on 8-track. Harry Chapin, the music from Annie, and Tom T. Hall were on cassette. REM, Primus, Gin Blossoms, and Nirvana were on CD.
Now it's all efficiently downloaded straight to my computer which I then sync up with my iPad and iPod.
Somehow I can't see myself looking back fondly at my iTunes library. Not like my memory of dad surprising me by coming home for lunch in time to hear Steppenwolf's The Pusher playing on his console stereo; me and my friends half buzzed and feeling the emotion of Alice Cooper's Ballad of Dwight Fry spinning at thirty-three and a third rpms; me and my friends totally hammered and surrounded by The Who in Quadraphonic sound; the diamond needle clearly playing those quietly whispered words in Pink Floyd's Careful With That Axe, Eugene just before the blood-curdling screams; driving across Montana in my MGB, the 8-track making that distinct ka-chunk sound indicating it has moved on to the next track and playing Love Hurts; or going to work in England and popping Lionel Richie out of the cassette deck, flipping it over, pushing it back in, and hitting the play button. Hello. Is it me you're looking for?
5,673 songs in my iTunes library and most of them take me elsewhere.
This Sunday’s Ride.
14 hours ago