Too much music

To follow on from my Technology in my pocket entry, the phenomenon of personal, portable music has always raised questions in my mind. Don’t get me wrong: I love music, I need music, and have probably devoted far more of my life to it than the average listener. But the extent to which private music seems to have become so irrevocably associated with public transport, for such a large proportion of every tram/train/busload, sometimes does bother me. I fully understand the boredom and isolation of the morning commute, and the need for something to help gear up for, or help forget, the working day ahead. However, when it reaches the extent that listeners plug in even when traveling with friends, and retain their headphones when conversing, something is wrong.

I am not one of these people that put their headphones on with their clothes in the morning. Sometimes I find the close quarters of in-ear sound claustrophobic, and if I do decide to "wire up" I am so paranoid about disturbing others that sometimes I can barely hear my music over the thumping machines of fellow commuters.  Other days, I can’t wait to get to the tram stop before I'm trying to untangle headphone wires.  Then I switch off from the world and let the music take me where it will. 

I grew up with the Sony Walkman tape player, in model if not actual brand, used mainly for long school trips and the very rare occasions when I rejected my parent’s choice of car stereo music (not often necessary – my parents have excellent musical taste). Early in my working-commute career I dabbled with a mini-disc player (remember those?), then my first foray into mp3s was via a free-upgrade mobile phone. I only invested in a cheap mp3 player so I could continue learning Spanish on the plane to Mexico (either flight mode had not yet been invented, or – more likely – I hadn’t heard of it).

That cheap mp3 player served me well, eating AAA batteries and in return feeding me 256 megabytes of my favorite tunes (or language courses). However, as commuting life really kicked in, I found that I sometimes couldn’t find quite the right tune for the moment. As with so many gadgets before, I descended into the inevitable spiral of convincing myself that I needed, and deserved, something more. In short, I started hankering after an iPod.

I did the usual agonizing and waiting, carefully weighing the options and selecting a reasonable model. I knew 6-year-olds that owned iPods. Even my parents had invested in one for traveling. Surely it was my turn? Finally, when subtle (obviously too subtle) hints one birthday season came to nothing, I treated myself.

So now I have the choice of hundreds of songs to feed my ears on the go. There is undeniably something to suit every occasion and mood. BUT here is the crazy thing; ninety-nine percent of the time, I listen to the same few favorite songs, many of them via a playlist painstakingly recreated from my old 256MB player. Even worse; to get me from the tram stop to the office, I almost invariably switch to one of two top favorites, to really finish the waking-up process and put me in the right frame of mind for the day ahead. It seems that 16 gigabytes of musical choice is not what is required to get me to work in the morning after all.

No, I am not going to reveal what those two tram-to-office songs are. Oh, okay then: one is a freak Eurovision winner, and the other is about the plight of Cornish miners. And if you can work that out, you are quite possibly my soul mate.