The power of music

What can I say. This blog post may be even more cliche than some of the others but I simply can't not write about it.

I'm wired this morning. I'm literally on fire. I have a presentation this afternoon that I'm working on, I have several other things to do and I didn't sleep last night because of it so have ended up on the black coffee. All of that means I'm wired. Very wired.

So I'm working away thinking about big words and marketing speak when all of a sudden I hear 4 twangs on a guitar. I stop typing. I hear it again. It's the same 4 twangs Russell says here is his favourite guitar sound.

Shine on you crazy diamond is being played a few desks away.

It's not very loud and as I type I can only hear little snippets of it. That matters not because I can fill in the gaps mentally. I know the song very well, but not as a product, as an experience. An experience that it takes me on every time I listen to it.

So now I'm wired - but in a really nice way. I'm remembering Live 8, Earls Court and the first time I heard the song and sat down and realised I'd found 'my' band. My sound. An extension of me created by others.

Buying some CDs

--Cliche blog post alert--

Yesterday I did something I haven't done for an embarrassingly long time. I physically went into a shop and handed over payment in return for a tangible item that has sound encoded onto it.

And it was great!

I know that some of my friends don't download music, and I know they don't do it for various reasons. I download nearly all my music. It's convenient, quick and cheaper than buying tangible versions. Plus, there's less packaging.

However, yesterday I popped into Sister Ray on Berwick Street and I sort of found it difficult to leave. There just seemed to be so much there that I wanted to buy. I wanted to buy loads of CDs of bands I hadn't even heard of... and I wanted to buy them purely because their CD was in front of me. Their names had feeling, and a story - they weren't simply a line of text with no identity. I picked up the CDs and had a look at the track listings... written in different fonts, in different colours and in different sizes. I didn't have to worry about what bitrate the songs were encoded with - I simply picked up the CD I wanted and took it to the counter. Then, faster than I could download it - it belonged to me.

A while ago I really got into Neil Young. The man is a legend pure and simple. I went online and downloaded his full back catalogue in a couple of hours. It's great. I now think I've missed a big opportunity. You see, when I was a young lad I used to only be able to afford a CD a week or so. It's probably not that different now, but now I can have the main content of the CD for free quite easily. But easy isn't always best. I used to sit and listen to the CD for the first time in a room alone from start to finish. And I'd look through the booklet and take in the full sensory experience. When I was in Sister Ray I realised I didn't even know what the album covers looked like for Neil Young albums that I love. That's a very bad thing.

Now I'm not saying that I'm a re-convert (is that even a word?) - merely that I see buying a CD as a form of entertainment. It used to be a chore - now I really enjoy it. And it's sort of an exciting risk to buy stuff I've never heard of but like the look of. I may ask Charlie if there are any good CD swap sites... you know - one where I buy a CD purely from gut feeling, don't like it, and then swap it with someone online.

So, You! Do your duty! Buy CDs.
(Well, at least from small independent labels, anyway... major label are a whole new blog post in themselves...)