I remember being a young kid. I mean really young, like 3 or 4 years old. My parents had a great audio set up even then. My father was something of an audiophile, and it was always one of my all-time favourite things to do to sit in the over-sized brown chair with those huge eggshell 80s headphones and listen to records. By records I mean vinyl records. I was a child of the 80s, don't forget.
Sure, the records I was listening to were nothing special. My parents were unfortunately collectors of mainly christian music. This was unfortunate because I missed out on a lot of the more awesome music (ie. almost all of it) of the 60s, 70s, and 80s. So be it. I still loved sitting there listening while I looked at the oversized vinyl sleeves. The art, the credits, the lyrics, everything about the recorded audio format made me fall in love with music. With the idea of tying an image to the music, and making it all into a statement of the heart, a message from a place in time that would never vanish. Something concrete that would exist into the future, to project the sound of a place and a time and a memory.
As I got older I started experimenting the with audio cassette tape. I liked this format because I could be in charge of the recording, the artwork, the message, the sound. When I got my first tape recorder I was literally ecstatic. I took that thing everywhere, recorded everything, annoyed everyone around me because I just wouldn't shut that damn thing off. And when I discovered how to take records, cds, and other tapes and overdub them into mixes that I could take with me in the backseat of long drives and play on my walkman... well, I was in love. Just totally, purely, incredibly in love.
Back to the album itself. I remember purchasing my first CDs. I remember taking time to just sit in my room and play them. I'd look at the booklet, I'd analyze the lyrics, I'd listen over and over again to take in the thematic elements of the record itself. Even then, in my adolescence, I understood what the format was. I understood it as not only a collection of songs that could fend for themselves, but as a collective that worked together. Somehow, inherently, I understood the importance of sequencing and song placement, the way the sounds have to work together to create a narrative. I loved it when bands would sneak sound effects and snippets in-between songs, or put 23 tracks of silence after the last listed song, only to find a hidden mysterious song after patiently waiting. I just always thought the album format was a beautiful thing.
Even when the era of music downloading reared its head and I discovered I could actually grasp all this music I didn't have access to before (I guess you could call this the beginning of the end), I still downloaded albums, not just songs. You could call me a hypocrite I suppose, but my point isn't to attack music pirating or the issue of how downloading music has affected sales and revenue. The album as a format is a collection of songs that are released as a single unit. Vinyl, CD, Tape, Mp3, the format is irrelevant. Artists release albums (well, good artists) to make a statement from a place and time, to tie disparate elements of emotional resonance together through a collection of songs that work within the album itself. I still love this, and I still mostly listen to records in their entirety (although with so much music to choose from now, I find this difficult some days).
My point is that, I feel slightly sad that our generation of "give-me-what-I-want" cherry-picking has dulled the importance of the album format, and the significance of what an artist's vision can be. Albums are released everyday, but most people pick a few songs on iTunes, throw them onto the iPhone or other listening device and press shuffle. That's it. Instant playlist personal radio. Is there something wrong with this? Of course not. Do I do the same thing sometimes? Of course I do. But I think it's important now, more than ever, to stop every once in a while and listen to the whole album. From beginning to end. On repeat. In the shower. While you float off to sleep. In the car. On the bus. Walking. Biking. You get the picture.
I'm sad to hear that we are finally reaching absolute record lows in album sales, because it means the change in the collective mentality is shifting irrevocably in a direction that favours the single over the album. And while that might be where popular music started in the first place, I'm still sad to see the era of the album dwindle in importance.
But that's just my two cents.
