Tuesday, April 20, 2010

A Sawbuck In My Pocket And A Song In My Heart

Years ago, I read something interesting about the origin of a now-ubiquitous radio format. A man in that industry was in some bar, and couldn't help but notice how the jukebox was being used by patrons. It had a large and varied selection of records, and yet the barflies, with unfailing consistency, fed their quarters in and chose the same songs, over and over again. He determined that the majority of money was spent picking just forty songs altogether. As you might imagine, this gave him the idea that a radio station doing the same thing would make out very well, and thus was born unto the world Top 40 radio.

Far from cursing him or the rubes who inspired him, as I might be expected to, I am somewhat more inclined to laud him for his great perceptiveness and wisdom. The fact that it obviously worked (proving that the idea behind it was entirely sound) is only part of my reasoning. The other part is that I myself have proven myself to be cut from the selfsame cloth as the rubes. As with the observation that I sometimes repeat myself, this one came from a new-tech means of tracking.

Most of my music listening now is done with the aid of Itunes, which meticulously counts each playing of a track. That tells me with little chance of error exactly what my preferences are, and allows me no room to weasel out of confessing the affection I harbor for artists unfashionable in my community and demographic group. I am now resigned to it, or I would see that the data has an unfortunate 'accident'.

Of course, this only records some of the information. It keeps the total play count of a track as well as the most recent time played, but doesn't seem to reflect the phenomenon I've been describing. Only my testimony does that. I'm here to tell you that I don't consider myself to have an addictive personality, but once a song comes along possessing just the right qualities, I can't stop playing it until some inscrutable compulsion in me relents.

Plenty of times it has happened that I've heard a song like 'Highwayman' by the basically eponymous Highwaymen or 'Rich Girl' by Hall and Oates, and just keep playing it. Presently, the song is 'Bankrobber' (which exists in a few forms and is known by a few names) by The Clash. Soon enough, I glance at that play count and realize I've played it twenty or fifty times in a row during one sitting. I am reminded of an anecdote told in my family which has my grandfather ruffling feathers in a social situation many years ago by engaging in a similar practice.

If an addiction or uncontrollable compulsion it is, then it's a harmless enough one I can afford to indulge so long as I don't allow it to harm (or more likely irritate) others. When we get together, it's been my impression that they prefer variety, although I suspect that some conceal the dark secret which I've confessed to you. Shush, now- don't tell.

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