It’s oddly fitting that this is the topic for today’s 30 Days of Lists. You see, I’m not typically a playlist guy.
Call me old-fashioned, but I listen to albums in their entirety. And when I think of albums, I mean cassette tapes. That’s what I was raised on. I’m not going to pretend that I’m a vinyl snob, but, golly, I loved my tapes. I held out on CDs until the early 90s, fearing it was just a marketing ploy for me to pay upwards of $15 for music. I no longer have a tape player (though my double-decker was very useful when I used to teach spinningthe kind for which you need padded spandex shorts and a water bottle), and I barely tangle with CDs, except to rip them to my computer.
I had lunch today with a former suitor (“ex-” sounds so harsh). He has one of the largest vinyl collections I’ve ever known. He’s a living encyclopedia of British and US music from the past twenty, nay, thirty years. He would put High Fidelity‘s protagonist to shame. Side note: he also happens to be a Brit. Another side note: he’s also how I met WonderMike in 1998, before we were knitters. Roy lives for music and I know he’ll know who’s about to break and what’s next, long before we read about it or hear something on the radio. (Do people still listen to those things, besides NPR?)
But before lunch, and before I saw today’s list, I just happened to ask my computer to make a new genius playlist this morning so I could have some mellow music as I worked. I’m lazy that way. I don’t curate my own music into playlists or mixes. I’d rather listen to something than think about what I’m about to listen to. If I am not going to listen to something as a whole, I’ll do it randomly or ask another entity to compose a collection for me.
It’s too much to type it in, but if you can’t see the picture, it’s a lot of Sigur RÃ²s, Thom Yorke, Radiohead, Sufjan Stevens, Iron & Wine, with some Bloc Party and BjÃ¶rk for good measure.
Have a musical weekend.