Your musical taste sucks… and so does mine
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All week I’ve been trying to figure out what to make of this piece from Maclean’s, titled “iPod Fascists.” In it, Sarmishta Subramanian discusses the rise of the iPod pirate – the unexpected ‘disc’ jockey that interrupts the music at a party in favour of his or her own selected tracks.
Subramanian writes,
The hijacker usually strikes without warning. He has an iPod stacked with examples of his discerning musical tastes burning a hole in his pocket, and he’s in the mood to impress. Perhaps imagining he has just flown back from a gig at a club in Ibiza, he slinks toward the iPod dock. One moment your party guests are enjoying tracks from the new Air record, and the next—yoink…
Yes, it is annoying when someone interrupts light-headed sleepy French electronica at a party.
I think at this point, I have to give uncomfortably full disclosure. At one time, I was an iPod hijacker. Here’s why: Your taste in music sucks.
There are, generally, three categories of music fans.
At one end are your typical, average radio listeners who inhale whatever top 40 track happens to be blasted at their faces during the morning commute or at the gym. Music to them is mostly disposable, and their iPods are generally a total mess – like someone set off a hand grenade in a record store. Scan their iPod or iTunes ‘playlists’ and you’ll find Sean Paul sitting next to the Beatles, or the Fray following Van Morrison (but only – and I stress this – Brown Eyed Girl). And the Killers. Everywhere. Ask them what kind of music they like, and they’ll reply, “oh, everything!” Translation: “Never talk to me about music.”
At the other end is the all-knowing egghead audiophile with a collection of CDs and vinyl records (because everything sounds better on vinyl) who reads obscure music websites and magazines at every. Available. Minute. You know one of these. They’re usually the same people who get personally offended when records are out of stock, or who lecture you on their stereo setup for about three-quarters of an hour after you tell them you like ‘Amnesiac.’ The reverb on Like Spinning Plates is like a helicopter landing in their living room, they’ll say. And it probably is. And it probably sounds amazing. And even though you thought you’d care, you suddenly don’t.
The others fall somewhere in between, at various points along the scale, and any of them can be an iPod hijacker. One is no better than the other, because musical tastes are like opinions, and opinions are like assholes: everybody has one, and everyone thinks everybody else’s stinks.
In her Maclean’s piece, Subramanian finds a musical pirate who might be part of the first group, who confesses that,
“I would put on Justin Timberlake, cheesy top 40, crunk rap—that doesn’t go over so well. A couple of times I put on Phil Collins: Easy Lover, Can’t Hurry Love. People love Phil Collins . . . Well, I do.”
Exactly.
But iPod hijackers persist. Why?
Subramanian continues:
The hijacker doesn’t have it easy, either. All but the most misanthropic take a big social risk in making the switch—after all, the self-appointed DJ is essentially making the party a referendum on his musical choices.
Almost. He’s actually making the party a referendum on himself. As Subramanian suggests, it’s a social gamble, but given the emotional attachment and joy that people can get out of music – especially a hot track played at the right time (remember mix tapes?) – the potential payoff for anyone’s ego is amazing.
In November’s GQ, Will Welch mentions an interview he once did with Wilco lead singer, Jeff Tweedy. He writes,
[Tweedy] said that the greatest feeling on earth comes from when you’ve created something that wasn’t there ten minutes ago.
No doubt. But showing someone something that somebody else made only takes ten seconds.
Go no further than a free online dating website to witness the weight given to things like musical taste. Apparently it says a lot about someone’s personality. All the more reason to show it off in front of new people. It makes friendships for you… sort of.
Survey the music collections of some of your best friends (or your spouse or partner). Guaranteed you’ll be reminded of some reason why you kind of hate them sometimes. Not only that, but you’ll realize that your best friendships that are supposedly based on music actually aren’t. The music they listen to might say something about their personality, but it’s probably not what makes them your friend. I’ve seen Pearl Jam five times in concert, but never met more than one or two fellow fans who I could talk to for more than a few minutes. You have to like the kind of people you want to share music with as people. Not, in other words, as songs.
Sharing music is not a one-way street. It does offer an opportunity for self-congratulations when you’re seen as being so cultured and hip, that you can “educate” someone with your knowledge – to show them a better way. Your way. It’s also nice when people know that you’re a lover of music, or that you have a large record collection, because it carries a certain cultural weight. But it’s always the specifics that kill you. You might try to convert a million people to a band you love, but then you’re suddenly that guy. And then you suck.
So why did I stop being an iPod hijacker? One day, a message was left for me on Facebook. It read, “Just saw American Idol and they were doing a Pearl Jam song! Thought of you!”
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Aha ha ha ha. This made my day, and it’s only 9 a.m. I’m a tasteless music spaz, with the inexplicable desire to replay five-year-old Tegan and Sara albums all the time. Oh, and Phil Collins. Everyone loves Phil, right?
My husband, on the other hand, has an entire hard drive dedicated to his music collection, which includes “artists” with names like Flying Lotus and Briggadorff. Since we don’t go to many parties (because we are lame) we usually experience iPod hijacking at dinner. One minute we’re feeling it in the air tonight, and the next we’re tripping on dub-step.
Glad to hear! I still talk to people about music, and what I like, but after a while it’s just kind of too hard to care. If they’re cool, they’re cool… and then it doesn’t matter what they listen to, as you and your husband have obviously found.
In response to another comment. See in context »I have a tendency to just force the Strokes or Radiohead on to most stereos, and I’ve noticed that most of the time, nobody loves them as much as me.
That being said, it’s nice to have friends who appreciate your taste in music – it’s a fun conversation with the right people.
P.S. “One minute we’re feeling in the air tonight, and the next we’re tripping on dub-step” sounds like a movie tag line or something.
My question is who were the iPod hijackers before there were iPods? Did they hijack record players? 8-Tracks? Or were they dealing in another category altogether, like switching out the magazines and books at your house so you had to read their stuff. It’s brave to admit that you were once a iPod hijacker. You welcome a onslaught of critics in doing so. I usually do not iPod hijackers because I get the sense that not only are they eager to prove they have the best taste in music, but they think deep down everyone else in the room is unaware of how unhappy they are at that moment.
Well, the road to recovery is fraught with personal anecdotes, I suppose. It’s not like iPod hijacking is really ill-intentioned… I’d be annoyed if someone tried to do it to me, but I get the motivation. It is nice to share something you like with people. And occasionally it sparks a different conversation altogether.
In response to another comment. See in context »I like the idea of a book hijacker. I’d be annoyed, but sort of impressed if someone managed to do that to me.
I live by the quote (and I don’t know who 1st coined it)
“There is only 2 kinds of music, the stuff I like and the crap I don’t”
@Nick: Back in the day we used to bump the Turntable and make the needle slide across any Bruce Springsteen or Steely Dan that was playing, then replaced it with Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd or AC/DC
@Short: I like your style! (throws horns)
@Colin: Great Article (i love Air but it has no place at a party – unless it’s a seance.)
In response to another comment. See in context »Thanks! For the record (no pun), Air is fine in the right context. Virgin Suicides was an amazing album. New one’s a bit flat, but yes… has a lot to do with the setting…
In response to another comment. See in context »A long-distance dedication from Trafalgar, Ind., for this thread: Sloppy Seconds’ “You’ve Got a Great Body, But Your Record Collection Sucks.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H2Mr6WxX0lc
Colin, this is a really funny post and well written. Ill pass it along. I found your blog while searching for something.
Also, since it seems relevant here, I also wanted to give a plug for a site Ive been working on that helps people share songs and discover music with their friends. http://www.myradeo.com Its free, easy and there’s no account signup. Login with Facebook. If you have a chance, check it out. Hope you like it!
Love this article, very perceptive on many levels. Best line:
‘Survey the music collections of some of your best friends (or your spouse or partner). Guaranteed you’ll be reminded of some reason why you kind of hate them sometimes.’
Actually laugh out loud funny.
I think there is scope for more writing around this topic!
I used to be a turntable jacker. At a party in London once I found a turntable set up in a basement, everyone was at the pre-drunken chat in kitchen. I found some good tunes and started spinning, people came down and started dancing.
About an hour into my impromptu set the ‘dj’ arrived mightily pissed off, threw me out from behind the decks, started spinning with the same collection, cleared the floor and received booos from the formerly dancing party. My ego is yet to recover.
I’m actually really jealous of this story.
In response to another comment. See in context »