'Retto Ruminations
By: Amy Sciarretto
Last updated May 27th , 2010

Playlist culture is what we are and what we have evolved into. Instantly, you get what you want, when you want it. While I am a big fan of being in control of what assaults my senses, there's also an argument to be made for spontaneity and discovery. If you are always in control of your own destiny, then where's chance? Where's possibility? Where's unearthing something you didn't already know, because no matter how much you think you know, you've always got room to learn the things that you don't know. Fact. Know it. Live it. Accept it. Learn it.

But when I heard the term "playlist culture," I realized that it's not a nugget of truth lying within the statement, but that it's the whole truth. While driving to work the other day, I slipped At Night We Live, the brand new album by Far, one of my favorite  bands ever. It's their first since 1998. I had the record in my tote bag for two very specific reasons: to listen to it in my car and to import it into my iTunes and thus, my iPod, for instant portability. I followed through with my every intention to listen to the album from stem to stern, to pay attention to the sequence of the songs and the running order; to the moods that developed from song to song, since the band spent time slotting specific songs next to specific songs, you know? I didn't even care about the single. I just wanted to listen to it all and soak it in. 

While I have no patience and hate people who make me wait and therefore waste my time, since time is a luxury in which I do not have the indulgence of, I certainly want things when I want them and as Far vocalist/lyricist Jonah Matranga says, "I've got no time / for the big big wait," I find myself really not fond of "playlist culture." I think that being too much of the master of my own destiny –even on something as minute as an iPod playlist- is not as great as one would think it is. It totally erases the notion of chance, of stumbling on something brilliant, on finding something you might not otherwise have known existed. 

I liken it to the notion of anti-depressants. I have many friends who are medicated and who need their meds to survive and get through the day. I have seen these medicines enhance and improve the moods and lives of people I care about both deeply and marginally, so to that end, I support them. But for me? No way. I'm generally an energetic and upbeat person, but even I succumb to situational depression, like the one I suffered through last Fall when my boyfriend of over two years ended our relationship unexpectedly and I thought he was "the one." It crushed me like a little innocent and helpless bug underneath a tire. But I would never take an anti-depressant to get me through life's hardships and curve balls. I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all and I always think back to like, the 1800s, when people had to just motor through life with the amenities that they had and they relied on survival skills and instincts to get through the shit, so to speak. So that is my reaction to mood elevating medicines. I don't do 'em. But I don't knock 'em either, for those who need them. I don’t want something else to control me. 

The same mentality can be applied to "playlist culture." The culture of dictating everything in your life and listening to a song or watching a TV program just to satiate you in the here and the now isn't how art is supposed to enhance your life. There is nothing more thrilling to me then finding a song I like tucked late in an album and having it for myself for a little bit. I did peruse my own iPod and I see that a few months back, I must have only added songs I liked from certain albums, rather than putting all the songs that I don't listen to as much on my iPod, simply to save space. But nowadays, you can fit 60 gazillion songs on an iPod, so that should no longer be an issue.  Since we are obsessed with portions in this culture – mostly relating to the food on our plates- that mentality spills over into our pursuit of art as something that decorates and colors our lives and our worlds. 

If you only eat bite-sized portions of things, how can you truly develop and foster a well-educated palette and tastebuds? Seriously. Think about that. If you are solely digesting nuggets, then you never truly experience and enjoy a succulent flavor. What a disservice that is, no?

So, tomorrow, when I got to my office to throw a bunch of tracks on my iTunes and then import them to my iPod, I'm going to make the concerted effort to include an entire album, not a few songs. I am going to allow myself to listen to songs that I may not consider my favorites or that I may have skipped over on albums for a noble pursuit: discovery.

There is this scene in a Paul Rudd movie that I love, called The O in Ohio. It's a hilariously dark indie comedy that also stars Parker Posey and Danny DeVito. Rudd plays a high school teacher and makes a snide comment about the teenagers in his class, how they already know everything. It's such a resonant statement, since teenagers think they know everything at the time, but give 'em a dozen or so years and they will look back and realize that they knew absolutely nothing and still don't know it all. That sort of realization is a long time coming.

That can be applied to the whole "playlist culture" mentality. You don’t know everything. You scratch the surface when you just take what's spoonfed to you and don't bother to investigate the full gamut of options out there. When you only want the single, you are closing off yourself to eight or  nine other tracks on album, several of which you could like better than the one all your friends like. In a world full of copycats, be the original. Be the iconoclast. Break the rules.

I never mean to sound like a fuddy duddy by my verbal rebellion of how culture is changing, in terms of music, but while I do reminisce, I never, ever swim against the tide. I swim with it, and I make it work for me, as best as I can. Ain't nothing wrong with that. ~ Amy Sciarretto

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