Records are not Big Macs. Their impractical, sculpted design and the unique smell of vinyl boxed together make a record something one should treasure and hold in one's conscience like an unrequited love, not something to be consumed in a furious and rushed moment of time.
One doesn't simply put on a record; there is a certain preparation and mood required. You don't just listen - you groove. As consumer society accelerates the overall pace of our lives, and careers and school impede on the hours we have to spend on our own comforts, there is simply not enough time for people to sit down and enjoy themselves and the art presented to them. Instead of the restricting and bulky form of the record, we have instead been given the more convenient, yet notably less charismatic, CD and MP3 file. While gadgets such as iPods and laptops have made it possible to quite literally live to the tunes of our music and movies, the marriage is one of arranged convenience rather than amorous affection.
Much like McDonald's hamburgers, packaged in their convenient yellow wrappers, today's entertainment is increasingly made "to go." Greasy and easy to grasp, most recordings no longer evoke an aura or create worlds such as their predecessors did. Lyrics are frequently throwaway and fatuous, and instead of melodious stories, we are given rather brief experiences, hardly ever driven deeper into their implied meanings.
While this change has made way for catchy and pithy ditties from pop artists such as the Jonas Brothers and Katy Perry, the extended journeys across landscapes and beyond fathomability are a dying breed.
Perhaps one of the greatest crimes this new "convenience" listening has committed is that Pink Floyd's descent into madness and self-imposed isolation in "The Wall" is now rarely listened to straight through as intended. And when it is played from start to finish, it is usually used as a background diversion when reading or writing other material.
Most mainstream artists make their names through head-banging singles and repetitive choruses. Weezer and Green Day are two mainstream exceptions that immediately come to mind. Metaphors are also becoming a trend of the past, as decency standards are being broken down and the average consumer prefers material they can consume outright rather than "waste" time pondering over. The puzzles are completed for us, as we hear straight out statements of radicalism, such as in this summer's hit, "I Kissed a Girl (And I Liked It)," rather than buried hints at an unsolved truth. What if Van Morrison, in the masterful album "Astral Weeks," chose to blast out, "I Have Pedophilic Feelings For a Little Girl (And I Like It)" rather than weave an obfuscating tapestry describing the frustrating need for the forbidden and unattainable?
While music is the most susceptible to and altered by these technological and societal fluctuations, television is similarly losing its ability to hold attention as a primary means of entertainment. Personally, I'm having difficultly remembering the last time I sat down to enjoy a program on TV without occupying myself with other activities in the meantime. Many people neglect to even allot a specified time to watch a show, and instead download the episodes to their iPods to watch. Half-an-hour-long comedies live through this anytime viewing, first widely noted when "The Office" gradually discovered its primary viewership numbers through iTunes. In the realm of news broadcasting, the 24-hour networks, seemingly constructed for the jetsetters with tight schedules, have introduced a new convenience, and along with it lack of quality to their heritage. Edward R. Murrow could take down McCarthy in thirty-minute timeslots, but now on CNN we see "URGENT REPORTS" of major sports figures exiting planes for the larger part of an afternoon.
Despite these shakeups in caliber and taste, it's not as if class and talent have dropped off the airwaves entirely. It's just been spread around and mashed down to its bare bones - spread across our conscience like a flimsy piece of processed cheese on a hamburger. All it takes is a little time and care to gather up the crumbs and create anew.
You can reach this columnist at thescene@theeagleonline.com.
