Even as a child, I had a passion for music. Meaning, by “passion”, that I was starting to discover pop songs, and had developed by the age of 12 an insatiable urge to collect my favourite music on cassettes, mostly of the inexpensive, pirated variety. Whenever I visited the home of one particular uncle who possessed a – to me, then – wondrously spectacular stereo system in his living room, I always promised myself that one sweet day I would have enough money to buy one of those for myself.
Fast forward some 40 years, and the teenager of today might find incredibly little in common by way of shared experience in their early encounters with music. Purchasing music in physical form has very much become a thing of the past for the average listener. And the stack of chunky audio components in a corner of the house has been replaced for many by sleek, wireless, hardly-there devices which also allow one to watch movies, play games, surf the internet – you name it.
Time and the evolution of technology have changed the way people consume, even make, music today. What have we gained in the process? And what have we given up?
From mix tapes to playlists
Mix tapes were once the perfect way to impress friends with the many obscure bands you had heard of. They have now been replaced by playlists on streaming platforms, where you can share your recommendations more quickly and easily than ever before. Images: iStock / screen shot of Apple Music
MUSIC FOR THE MASSES?
The invention of the phonograph – a machine that could record and play back sound – by Thomas Edison in 1877 revolutionised the transmission of music like nothing before. Previously, the enjoyment of music had been limited to either playing it yourself, or hearing it ‘live’ (be it in a concert hall, a place of worship or perhaps just a tavern somewhere). Now it could be captured and preserved for posterity. The popularisation of broadcasting in the early 20th century also played a significant role in bringing music closer to the consumer. Now more people could have it in their lives, at a lower cost.
Listening to music in those early days was often marketed and undertaken as a home or group activity. It was around the home radio set that families would gather, to listen to news and music. Broadcast content was something one passively received, so you listened to whatever had been chosen for you. The gramophone record player or ‘stereo’ could play music, but everyone at home would have to agree on what to play.
Revolution in the streets
During the 1980s, the Sony Walkman became a fad amongst the people of the decade. The first version of Apple’s revolutionary iPod was released in 2001, and quickly became an industry favourite and the new face for portable music. That was, until the rise of the iPhone rendered it obsolete. Source: www.thriftydreams.com
The invention of the ‘compact cassette’ in the late 1960’s would lead to another revolution: that of portability and personalisation. No longer was recorded music confined to bulky records and large sound systems. You could now carry it about with you to play on personal players, using headphones for total privacy. Cassettes were also recordable, so you could (illegally, as it turned out) make ‘mix tapes’ for yourself and others. Already the way was being paved for a mode of music listening that was personal and personalised.
This very individualism forms the basis of music consumption today. Gone is the concept of family listening. With music streaming services, for instance, each member of the household is expected to have their own personal account (hence “family” subscription plans). The mix tape of yore has become the digital playlist. Some playlists get shared online, but the accepted philosophy remains to carve out a listening profile that is “uniquely you”. How apt, then, that for many today, the device used to play music is that one most personal and private of all devices – the mobile phone.
A star is born
In 2011, Abel Tesfaye aka The Weeknd anonymously uploaded three tracks to YouTube under the username “xoxxxoooxo.” While nobody knew who the man behind the tracks was, Tesfaye’s songs started gaining popularity. Tesfaye is now one of the most-streamed artists on Spotify. In 2020, he was listed by TIME as one of the world's most influential people. Photo: Christian Bertrand / Alamy Stock Photo
GOING GREEN, GOING PUBLIC
As recorded music shed much of its physical form and became increasingly a series of bits and bytes, many other changes took place, some for the better. The planet has undoubtedly benefitted, for a start. One master digital music file now services an infinite number of streams and downloads; there is less waste by way of ostentatious packaging and shrink-wrap; CD sleeves and booklets have given way to PDFs; and the gradual disappearance of physical music shops has also meant a corresponding reduction in the need for physical promotional and point-of-sale material, amongst other resources.
The Verzuz effect
Verzuz, the live-streamed ‘battle’ series, was launched by Swizz Beatz and Timbaland in March 2020 to entertain their audiences in the midst of quarantine. Each Verzuz episode draws millions of viewers, having a considerable impact on artist following. Rolling Stone reports that on average, artists appearing on Verzuz saw an 88% bump in plays in the three days following the event. Source: www.averagesocialite.com
The availability of music online at lower cost makes it easier for individuals to discover new material and expand their interests. A pop music enthusiast, for example, might feel less inclined to make that first venture into jazz or classical if they had to go out and buy a physical CD, but with the help of free online platforms such as YouTube or basic-tier streaming, the opportunity cost of experimentation becomes far lower. There now also exists the internet, for elucidation and further research. So where once the world of classical music remained shrouded in a distant, slightly elitist, mystery, now it takes just a few clicks or taps to learn more about, say, Beethoven’s life and works, thus helping to demystify an otherwise strange new realm. Online groups and communities also foster discussion and kindle interest.
With lower ‘start-up’ costs, it has also become easier for creators and performers to put out new music. No more need for discussions with profit- hungry record company executives about who pays for the initial production run of 10,000 CDs, now every aspiring garage band can launch itself online without too much effort. The only thing to worry about, perhaps, is those tens of thousands of other hopefuls also out there, all chasing the same dream.
If familiarity breeds contempt, does ease of access also lessen the satisfaction one derives from pursuing and eventually obtaining something of value?
GOING UPSTREAM
When music went digital a substantial part of our relationship with it began to evolve. Accessibility has been key to this evolution. Where previously manufacturing costs and potential sales had to
be factored into deciding what got ‘released’ and what did not, now it has become economically viable for music companies to put out for public consumption whatever might remotely be of interest, including obscure back catalogue. Thirty years ago, a die-hard record collector might have had to scour backstreet shops for a rare, out-of- print bootleg recording; today, that same recording is likely available for streaming somewhere.
Music in the metaverse
The psychedelic Ariana Grande live experience on Fortnite was a multi-day affair that hooked into wider storytelling on the gaming platform. The event tied into multiple aspects of the platform, from the way the tour was announced, to tie-ins with aliens and iconic Fortnite moments and imagery. This led to an immersive experience that was different from any previous live-streamed concert. Source: Epic Games
There is a flip side, though: the thrill of the ‘hunt’ is now a thing of the past. I can easily find the entire discography of my favourite, lesser-known artists on Spotify in just a few seconds, without having to trawl through eBay for months. ‘On demand’ is the new way to go: no more files, no more storage, music should just be there when we want it. If familiarity breeds contempt, does ease of access also lessen the satisfaction one derives from pursuing and eventually obtaining something of value?
The development of the Compact Disc in the early 1980s re-introduced an emphasis on sound quality. Where once consumers were content with the reassuring crackles and pops of vinyl records and the low background hiss of magnetic tape, suddenly there was a need for perfect digital sound, often possible only with expensive playback equipment, excruciatingly tuned headphones and customised wiring. Yet, all too quickly, the arrival of compressed music files in formats such as MP3 rendered this irrelevant for many mainstream listeners. With the advent of Bluetooth headphones, one now finds wires a needless bother. And up until fairly recently, basic streaming services offered compromised audio quality. A hardcore audiophile might point out, in sum, that we have relinquished a portion of the holistic listening experience in favour of the convenience that arises from technological advancement.
AIN’T NOTHING LIKE THE REAL THING?
This evolution of how we enjoy music extends beyond recordings to also physical concerts. With ever faster internet speeds available to us, it is now possible to savour entire performances without leaving home. Following the restrictions imposed on public events due to COVID-19, many performing arts ensembles found themselves giving ‘live’ online shows. Even before that, one no longer needed to go to Berlin to savour the famed Berlin Philharmonic in action: their much- marketed Digital Concert Hall allows you a ticket in on the action, sans price of air passage.
But is it the same thing, after all?
Does a night out at the symphony mean merely the music? For me it used to also mean a pre-concert dinner with friends, perhaps drinks and some chat about the programme during the intermission, grabbing an autograph from a much-anticipated guest artist. The sum total of these moments formed my own cumulative experience of concert- going. It could be this same experience that we are surrendering now, thanks to innovation. Presumably watching BLACKPINK on YouTube is not a convincing substitute for catching them ‘live’. But are there also others out there who might forgo a night out to hear the local orchestra, now that they can get some of the acknowledged world’s best on their personal music players? Sadly, the answer might actually be – yes.
“THIS IS WHAT YOU LIKE.”
Inevitably, technology has meant that more things previously achieved through human effort are now being done using artificial ‘intelligence’. Few merchandising platforms do not attempt to identify your tastes and cross-promote ‘similar’ products or content. Music is no exception.
“You might like this,” promises many a streaming homepage. “Others also bought this,” claims another website. What may once have been a recommendation from a friendly music store clerk or the result of a chance discussion in the aisles with a fellow enthusiast has been replaced by something uncomfortably un-human – an algorithm used to track and predict consumer behaviour. Could Amazon ever know that I love a particular song because it was something my late father used to play on the guitar? Or which film soundtrack brings back bittersweet memories because that was the first movie I went to see with a (once) special someone?
Can a robot conductor bring the human touch?
During a live concert of Keiichiro Shibuya’s opera Scary Beauty in Sharjah of the United Arab Emirates in February 2020, a robot with a humanoid face conducted the human orchestra. Japanese composer Shibuya wrote the music, but the android controlled the tempo and volume of the live show, and even sang at times. Source: Sharjah Art Foundation
Even something as inscrutable, as personal, as the art of composing music has been met with the intervention of technology. We carry with us the popular image of a struggling writer or frustrated composer, holed up in an attic, tearing his hair out because the creative juices refuse to flow. Fret no more – now there are online music composition solutions like MuseNet, which can save you all that unnecessary heartache. Choose from preset styles and instrumentation, throw in a composer or two whose work you want to emulate, tweak and touch up, and – presto! – Aretha Franklin in the style of Mozart.
If only creating art were as simple as utilising pre-fabricated templates, there would never have been those who broke the mould for no logical reason: no 19th-century Romantics in music, who decided that emotions and expression were as important as note sequences; no Pointillists in art, who demonstrated how small coloured dots could form big beautiful pictures; no poets who cast convention to the wind and chose to write in unprecedented free verse. We can only hope that high tech tools remain just that – tools, that we use to help us enhance our innate human abilities to create things different from what came before, things born out of life experience, out of emotion and expression. Technology itself is, after all, a revolution born of the human brain. It cannot replace that part of us which is human.
Music before sunrise
Céline (Julie Delpy) and Jess (Ethan Hawke) browsing in a music store near the beginning of their long, sleepless night of earnest conversation in the film Before Sunrise (1995). A romantic relationship that blossoms in the aisles of a record store is a recurring scenario in popular culture. Source: pitchfork.com
We can only hope that high tech tools remain just that – tools, that we use to help us enhance our innate human abilities to create things different from what came before, things born out of life experience, out of emotion and expression.
BUT THE BAND PLAYS ON…
The relentless tide of technology spares few. One is swept along by it, often in spite of oneself.
We no longer listen to music the same way as before. We are now spoilt for choice and spared the effort. Everything is at the touch of a button. But our lives have changed too, in ways that validate these new ways of consuming the same product.
I no longer dream of a huge stereo system in the living room – there’s isn’t enough space in my 21st- century apartment. Or maybe it’s simply because I don’t sit and enjoy music at home anymore – most of my listening is done ‘on the go’. I no longer collect cassettes or CDs. My music is online, somewhere; it doesn’t belong to me per se, but for a modest monthly fee, I rent the experience.
But I still have a passion for music. That part of me remains.
The highest-fidelity audio experience
In recent years, high-resolution music has moved from a niche to a standard side-offering in music streaming. Many of the major streaming services offer a lossless Hi-Fi tier alongside their standard quality tiers. However, most people do not have the audio technology to make it worthwhile. Unless one is going for an intense listening experience, the quality difference is hard to notice for general enjoyment. Photo: iStock
High on Fidelity
The term “high fidelity” first gained popularity in the 1950s as a marketing tool promoting the concept of faithful sound reproduction. Up until then, the quality of recorded sound, as evidenced primarily by 78- rpm (“revolutions per minute”) records, had been unremarkable. The new emphasis on audio quality had much to do with the arrival of stereophonic sound – “stereo”, or the recording of audio using two or more channels to create a sensation of three-dimensional sound.
By the 1970s it was common to find enthusiasts painstakingly creating their ideal home “Hi-Fi” systems from individual components: a basic setup would usually consist of a record player (or “turntable”), radio tuner, amplifier and cassette deck, paired with carefully chosen speakers and stands. Modifications for the perfect sound could be as complex as using a particular type of speaker wire, or as primitive as positioning a coin under the turntable’s feet to ensure it was at a perfect horizontal.
Compact Discs promised an even higher level of audio quality: digital playback meant the elimination of unwanted noise inherent in playing from physical media. CDs could also be “ripped” – the music extracted as digital files for playing back on computers and mobile devices (such as the then-newly unveiled Apple iPod). But mobile playback brought with it a new, inevitable requirement: storage efficiency. So when digital music first hit the scene, it came at the price of reduced sound quality. Audio file data had to be compressed, with considerable data loss which ironically detracted from what CDs had brought to the table. The famous (infamous, to some) MP3 file format could store large numbers of music files on any given device, making it a practical choice for everyday use, at a compromised quality. With streaming and listening on-the-go, data usage is an additional factor for consideration.
The present-day situation remains largely unchanged, and the convenience-versus-quality debate will undoubtedly continue. Streaming looks set to be the way to go. (Spotify reported a year-on-year revenue increase of 16.3% for 2020 – to the tune of €1.1 billion.1) Though some music streaming services now offer “high-resolution” options, as listening becomes more mobile-centric and less rooted in physical spaces, listeners’ priorities have also shifted: some may now ditch plans for the home listening studio, or think twice about the five-thousand-dollar wired headphones that do not block out the noise of the morning commute. The obvious acceptance of on-demand listening for millions of users worldwide seems to indicate that this is fast becoming the new norm in music consumption.
FOO CHEN LOONG
Foo Chen Loong is Communications Manager at The HEAD Foundation. He was previously a producer and broadcaster with Mediacorp’s Symphony 92.4FM, and subsequently led the Marketing and Communications Department at the Singapore Symphony Orchestra for 11 years.
DECEMBER 2021 | ISSUE 9
Tomorrow's Technology Today
