There’s something sweet about listening to an entire album untouched, no clicking or tapping of a screen, as you would with a vinyl record. I may be negating myself a bit here, but in making the access to music more efficient – placing it on our mobile cellular devices – we intensify the immediate gratification, quick-triggered satisfaction/obtainment of an art form. I believe the current minimal effort behind listening to a musical composition devalues its essence.
As McLuhan’s tetrad of technology lays out, just as we advance, we risk obsolescence. While digital music files and playback lessen the need for tangible artifacts, the transformation of the medium has altered the art form. And while both appeared to be on the opposite ends of the spectrum argument, their interaction proved them both to be a part of a broader ecosystem – a media system. As Professors Ribes and Irvine discussed, Apple and Adobe became one another’s archrivals based on the functionality of their respective products. Dialectically speaking, one cannot die when it is constantly being acknowledged in comparative discourses. The mere discussion of vinyls in the age of mp3 files and Bluetooth-capabilities for music playback is reflective of how a technology – more so, a medium – cannot be eradicated. One medium that I am steadily becoming fascinated with is the vinyl record partly, because I’m a minimalist and partly, because my mom’s 45s are sitting in my living room, begging for some airtime. The manner in which this content is transmitted to and from analog and digital formats is through mediation. For the past weeks, we have examined the poignancy of a particular text, whether it was Daft Punk, Andy Warhol or “Ayo.” This week, we devote our conversation to the artifacts that allow our senses to consume this content, information or media, if you will – the medium.