Two Roads In A Wood
Don't complain about artists not getting their fair share when all you do is tap keys on your screen
Instant messages. Live updates. Real-time notifications.
We used to live in a world where fast meant better. At present, nothing seems to be good enough unless it’s right now.
Before you start rolling your eyes, I don’t think this is entirely bad. Reduced wait times have made huge contributions to science, boosted human development and improved millions of lives.
So no, I’m not going to romanticise the times of letters by pigeon, dying of flu, or sailing the seven seas.
Besides, do you remember that brilliant quote by Will Ferrell? “Before you marry a person, you should first make them use a computer with slow Internet to see who they really are.”
Even the most Zen among us are guaranteed to fail that test. Nobody likes waiting.
And yet, while we may be working more efficiently and living longer lives than in the nineteenth century, we seem to have completely lost the gift of patience.
No one has time for anything anymore. Even the most mundane tasks imply a sense of urgency these days. Results need to be quick, or we will lose interest more quickly.
This eagerness for immediate results has conquered many areas of life: work, education, services, travel, hospitality, fitness… and, of course, music.
Want to listen to an album? Easy peasy: just tap Play on your screen and you’re good to go.
Right now. No waiting. No effort.
You can stop whenever you want.
Want to change records? Simple—just tap another button!
Accessibility has been a game changer for musicians and fans alike. But as with most other major changes in life, it has brought a whole package of good and not-so-good strings attached.
Lower barriers for both artists and listeners had been a long time coming.
Musicians getting less than peanuts for their work while tech companies get to have the cake and eat it? I’m not impressed.
More knowledgeable and eloquent writers have expressed it in much fancier terms.
There is, however, one thing I’d like to focus on. Something we don’t seem to discuss often enough.
Most listeners these days are more impatient than a kid on Christmas morning. And worst of all—they are not willing to make any sacrifices whatsoever.
“Not feeling this anymore—can you change the record?”
“The intro is too long!”
Skip.
Slide your finger on the progress bar.
Skip again.
The average music fan has lost all sense of focus and intentionality. Nothing really matters anymore because playing an album is easier and quicker than getting a Starbucks coffee.
What’s more, everyone seems to be in a race against time. How many records can you squeeze in today? Have you not caught up with this week’s new releases?
Discover an artist today, devour their entire discography tomorrow, move on to the next band the day after.
I’m afraid this is just the tip of a huge iceberg which we won’t tackle with one Substack post alone. But you can neutralise some of the downsides of this mad-rush culture by taking a step back and asking yourself a question which you probably haven’t heard in a while:
What are you willing to trade off?
How badly do you want this? Start with the big things—it’s always easier to find your compass there.
How hard are you ready to work to achieve that financial independence you supposedly crave so much? What, if any, are you willing to sacrifice for that dream house, fancy car, rock-hard six-pack, or the trip of your lifetime?
And then narrow it down. How badly do you want this record? How long are you ready to wait? How much are you willing to give before you can take?
Is it still the case that we can have a goal and work towards it? Or have we stopped dreaming altogether?
Choose a record. Set your heart on it.
Save money. Count the pennies.
Wait. Patiently.
When you finally can, buy it.
Hold it in your hands. Admire the artwork.
Feel its weight on your hands.
Lower the tonearm. Savour the moment.
Enjoy it. From start to finish.
Am I the only one who still chooses this life?
Constantly pursuing the instantly gratifying at the expense of the holy grail will set you on a long path of mediocrity.
Hard work is so underrated these days that the lines between the wheat and the chaff have become increasingly blurred.
Not all records will be worth waiting, let alone fighting, for. We all need a break from time to time—otherwise it’s us who will break. But you won’t truly know the real value of a piece of recorded music if all you are doing is tapping keys on your screen while your streaming platform of choice is cashing in.
Oh, the musicians, you ask? They’re hard at work, in the studio making another record, or busy on the road, bringing their sounds to the world.
They are untangling cables, connecting amplifiers, arguing with producers, overthinking lyrics, planning setlists, tuning their guitars, warming up their voice.
Crafting things. Building bridges.
You can stay on your couch, looking at your screen, sliding your finger on the progress bar, waiting for things to magically appear. Or you can get up, feel the fear, knock on doors, ask around, crack some numbers, and try to make things happen.
The less travelled road is never easy, but the best things in life rarely are. Plus, you will be able to escape those dreadful, slow internet days. Win-win all around.
Thanks for reading/listening. Happy spinning!
In a world that seems obsessed with "watching" (e.g., scrolling) rather than "doing," I would rather be the doer than the watcher. This also breeds and feeds the same instant gratification mentality that you speak of in your post. Thus, unplugging from all social media and rarely engaging in Notes on Substack (which has become just another time-sucking social media feed, tbh).
I find much more enjoyment in being the doer who flips through record bins, finding one or maybe a few, bringing them home, cleaning them, and then listening to them on my stereo than I ever do when I scroll on Spotify and hit play. And, let's be honest... records and even CDs sound much better than any platform, and how the artist intended for them to be heard.
Poetry! Reading this was a beautiful way to start my Sunday. Now to throw on a record…