iPod: "Pass me one of those?"

I apologize that I have been so negligent in my blogging lately, and I confess that I didn't even realize how long it had been until I noticed the date of my last post. (Is it possible it's actually been over a month?) I have been busy during this absence, though, graduating (just from Greenwood, don't get excited), playing a lot of music, submitting a couple things for publication, and wrapping up a recording project I've working on. (If you're interested in hearing some of the stuff I recorded, and have some free time to spend waiting for the audio to buffer, you can check it out here.) And, above all else, over all musical endeavors and academic achievements, I got an iPod.

A couple of years ago, Chuck Klosterman wrote an interesting piece in Spin Magazine (November 2004) entitled Living In Stereo, essentially a glorified love letter to his broken iPod, complete with clip-art graphics and everything. His basic thesis: that the iPod, instead of isolating its users like the Sony Walkman, allows them to engage and interact with the outside world in new and revolutionary ways. Basically, the iPod allows anyone with a laptop and a 2GB Nano to create a personalized (and event specific) soundtrack to their lives. Constant music, all the time. (I guess it is worth it to mention here that he might actually have a point; I'm using mine to listen to the Beatles' "Paperback Writer" as I compose this post.) Maybe this is the reason you can tell so much about someone by the contents of their iPod. But regardless as to whether this is the reason or not, the fact remains that by looking through someone's iTunes library you are offered an informative and very private window into someone's life. For example, I got mine used from an anonymous PayPal user, and even though all the songs had been deleted, I still feel as if I have a pretty good idea of his or her musical tastes. The bass boost was pumped to a level that horribly distorted everything, even at very low volumes (think Rick James's bass tone), and the EQ was twisted into a mangled tonal jumble even Jay-Z wouldn't have approved of. And when I connected it to the computer, it informed me that the iPod's former owner had creatively named it KanyeLover07. Hip-hop listener? I'd think so.

But potential for music snooping and personality profiling aside, it is hard to argue with the fact that the iPod is one of the most innovative advances in popular technology since the internet. But there is another innovation that is overshadowed by the iPod, an innovation that almost singlehandedly ceased to make portable music players isolating machines and turned them into social devices. This innovation is the invention, and subsequent popularization, of the ear-bud headphone. It didn't take long for consumers to realize that hey, the speakers kind of suck, you can't push any volume whatsoever, and it's kind of uncomfortable to have a speaker actually shoved in your ear, but all that was overshadowed by the realization that with these headphones, not just one, but TWO people can listen simultaneously. And when you've been riding iPod-less to and from from school forty-five minutes each way for three years, this pleasant realization comes in handy. Just a quick smile, a flattering comment, and the hopeful "Pass me one of those?" started two years of sharing the wealth of music on the iPod of the person next to me. I guess the way music is experienced has come full circle, from social event, to private experience, to social event again. And that's thanks to the iPod. (Now who knows how to upgrade from 2GB for less than a hundred dollars?)