Frankie89

I personally listen to and discard music at a rather moderate pace (also because, as I mentioned, I own quite a few records), but the point is that I really don’t understand why a cultural product like music is considered, in a way, more difficult to understand and assimilate compared to other things like literature or cinema, on which we generally spend much less time. My intention was more to reflect on this: why an album would require more effort and time to make a significant contribution to our personal growth compared to a book or a film.

However, I want to question whether this "use and throw away" approach to music is wrong. Records are the only cultural product that we use multiple times, while with books and films the disposable trend is already more common: most films we watch and books we read are unlikely to be reused. But is there something wrong with this? Is one or two times not enough to assimilate a product? What’s the difference between listening to an album 10 times in 2011 and listening to it 100 times in 1991? The message and the emotions that album intended to convey weren't equally absorbed? Now, in a world where all music is potentially free or at least offered at rock-bottom prices, what’s wrong with blasting through the entire Led Zeppelin discography in a week? Is someone who does that perhaps more ignorant than someone who has listened to Led Zeppelin II to the point of nausea and maybe dreams of the solo from Moby Dick at night? I don’t know, but generally, I don’t believe that’s the case. Today, there is less of that obsessive attachment to an object while culture circulates much faster. And I would say we have only gained from this and that musical disposability isn’t such a terrible thing. Honestly, if I don’t have a mystical relationship with an album and don’t savor every single note: it’s true, sometimes I gorge myself like a pig, but since my health isn’t affected and in fact benefits from it, I really don’t see what the problem is. Only the artists of yesterday, those who couldn’t grasp these dynamics due to generational issues, suffer from this.

Well, for records and movies, the situation is a bit different and more delicate. Writers and directors can't exactly hold concerts.

Honestly, I've never understood this need to "get attached to the record": it seems almost morbid to me. The record is just a damn support, an object, it has no soul. The music inside it does, and I absolutely agree on buying something when we think it's worthwhile. The thing is, I buy a lot of records, but I don't have a sentimental relationship with them: when I look at my pile of over 300 CDs, my heart doesn't swell with pride. That happens maybe when I hear Daydream Nation on the hi-fi because listening to it with earbuds is a bit like a drag. But honestly, I don't perceive the poetry in the mold that nibbles on the vinyls or in the virgin little holes of a CD with which someone would even attempt to have an intimate encounter.

Well Geb, come on, the method of consumption has really changed... today, unless someone is completely taken in by the hype, it's hard to buy a debut album without having listened to it at least on streaming at 96k. And I don’t see what’s wrong with that: I buy your product only if I’m genuinely interested in it and if I want you to keep making records thanks to my financial support. Before the mp3 era, this choice wasn’t possible, and the situation favored the producer more. It seems like an achievement to me: today the music scene is more meritocratic, and no one gets rich off crap (I’m sure that if a band doesn’t have the limousine, the Dom Pérignon, and the women, the music benefits). In short, in 2011 we can’t still be discussing these things. Do you think that the circulation of culture is a bad thing? For example, I would never have been able to listen to your "Non esistere" by the Fluxus without the download (since it’s really not available on CD).

It seems interesting. Quality pseudo-punk in 2011, I hadn't heard it yet.

I really enjoyed it, and I think it has inaugurated a genre that will soon be overflowing, we can be sure of that (some may argue that he wasn't the first to do these things, but who cares, he brought them almost into the mainstream). Recently, I discovered Jamie Woon, who makes me drool even more, and the Canadian The Weeknd, who I don't think can be considered exactly dubstep-soul, but still has a lot in common with this phenomenon.

I heard it but I didn't understand it: it fascinates and annoys me at the same time. One of those records that you never know when the right moment to listen to is.