Year Without Music
There’s one thing that I want from 2005, and it’s a big-ticket item: Clarity. I readily admit that I don’t have the answers as far as how to achieve clarity, but I do know that the search begins with determining my priorities and sticking to them. My main goal is to spend more time on myself. To elaborate, I want to refine my ambitions, discover new passions and continue to develop my perspective on life. Part of this process is defining what matters most to me, and then discovering how best to incorporate those things into my life.
I hope to slow down my speeding mind, to decelerate my thoughts to the point where I can study them. I don’t want to absorb new information for the sake of staying in the loop or keeping up with the Joneses when I haven’t finished digesting the old information that already clogs up my memory. I need to control the intake if I'm ever going to tame the beast.
So, what effect will these changes have on my musical pursuits, or on this blog specifically? Get this: I plan to go one calendar year without buying more than 12 albums. The results will hopefully be two-fold: 1) Spend the money saved on my self, in the hopes of achieving said goals; and 2) Spend more time appreciating music instead of simply consuming it. The later is a point that will be of interest to readers of this blog. I will not stop writing about music; nor will music cease to play an important part in my life. But, instead of acting like a sponge that sucks up as much of the atmosphere around it as possible, only to be wrenched dry moments later, I hope to alter that approach. Instead of soaking up whatever the media or record shops are pimping in a given month, I want to proceed with extreme caution. I plan to spend plenty of time studying new releases through reviews and whatever sound samples I can get my hands on...before I make a purchase. Hopefully, this will lead to a truer sense of anticipation and appreciation for the new music I do purchase. Also, I want to thoroughly enjoy what I currently have in front of me. (After all, if a person can’t take solace in the 1,500 records he already has, then it’s time to treat the sickness with prescribed medicine.)
I arrived at this conclusion as a result of two recent activities. The first was the process through which I compiled my Best of 2004 list. That was, simply put, a headache. When I took a step back to review everything that I had bought this year in order to compile my list, I realized that I had actually purchased over 50 new albums this year—in addition to at least another 50 old albums. The amount is staggering, both in terms of actual money spent and waste produced. I wasn’t actually spending much time with many of those 50-plus records. I had become a consumer of music; but was I really able to appreciate what I consumed? Not really, and that’s sad since my music journalism hobby demands that I do just that.
The second activity was the reorganization of my record collection. I've gone on about the benefits of doing so already, but it’s proven in the long term to keep me on my toes moreso than I thought possible. I own a lot of great albums already that I should be catching up with on a regular basis. Neglect—taking things for granted—has always been among my poorer suits. And I’d like that to change. Also, as motivation, I’m going to give myself an added perk: if I find an old record that I don’t enjoy anymore, I can sell it or trade it in and use that money to purchase something that I do want. (And that purchase does not count against my annual limit of 12.) It’s a sneaky loophole, but like any plan worth obsessing over, having an “out” can prove beneficial. For those that are in the habit of trading in records and find this loophole to be of obvious worth, let me assure you that I am not the kind of music fanatic that has traditionally parted with his music with ease. So, I don’t expect that I’ll find a whole lot to trade in. But, at least that option is there. Housecleaning is essential, and since this quest for clarity is a lot like a cleansing of my psyche, it’s only fair that I should apply the same principle to my record collection, too. I’ll keep you posted when I sell something so that you know just how much spending money I’ve accrued.
(Note: I do not download music illegally, so I will not be obtaining music through those channels. I do receive the occasional handout from publicists or friends, but I will refrain from seeking those out on my own.)
Long story shorter, if you’re hoping for a Best of 2005 list that’s as ridiculously long (and longwinded) as my Best of 2004 list, you’re going to be disappointed.
I call it my “Year Without Music,” which is of course only a half-truth (or maybe third-truth) since I will still be spending a good deal of time with (and a much smaller amount of money on) music. I do hope you stick around to see how it all pans out. Considering that I attempted to adopt this same approach at the beginning of 2004 and failed miserably, it’s quite possible that I’ll belly flop by March. But, this time around, I’ve got at least one secret weapon at my disposal: the support of M. She’s going to crack the whip or dress my wounds when necessary. So, I suspect my chances of success are better than 20%. Keep your wagers to yourself, please. Or, I might just go all Pete Rose on you.
Have a good New Year’s, and don’t forget to make a donation to a cause that matters. And no, I don’t mean the “Buy The Noiseboy a Record Fund.”
N/P—Simon & Garfunkel, “The Only Living Boy in New York”
I hope to slow down my speeding mind, to decelerate my thoughts to the point where I can study them. I don’t want to absorb new information for the sake of staying in the loop or keeping up with the Joneses when I haven’t finished digesting the old information that already clogs up my memory. I need to control the intake if I'm ever going to tame the beast.
So, what effect will these changes have on my musical pursuits, or on this blog specifically? Get this: I plan to go one calendar year without buying more than 12 albums. The results will hopefully be two-fold: 1) Spend the money saved on my self, in the hopes of achieving said goals; and 2) Spend more time appreciating music instead of simply consuming it. The later is a point that will be of interest to readers of this blog. I will not stop writing about music; nor will music cease to play an important part in my life. But, instead of acting like a sponge that sucks up as much of the atmosphere around it as possible, only to be wrenched dry moments later, I hope to alter that approach. Instead of soaking up whatever the media or record shops are pimping in a given month, I want to proceed with extreme caution. I plan to spend plenty of time studying new releases through reviews and whatever sound samples I can get my hands on...before I make a purchase. Hopefully, this will lead to a truer sense of anticipation and appreciation for the new music I do purchase. Also, I want to thoroughly enjoy what I currently have in front of me. (After all, if a person can’t take solace in the 1,500 records he already has, then it’s time to treat the sickness with prescribed medicine.)
I arrived at this conclusion as a result of two recent activities. The first was the process through which I compiled my Best of 2004 list. That was, simply put, a headache. When I took a step back to review everything that I had bought this year in order to compile my list, I realized that I had actually purchased over 50 new albums this year—in addition to at least another 50 old albums. The amount is staggering, both in terms of actual money spent and waste produced. I wasn’t actually spending much time with many of those 50-plus records. I had become a consumer of music; but was I really able to appreciate what I consumed? Not really, and that’s sad since my music journalism hobby demands that I do just that.
The second activity was the reorganization of my record collection. I've gone on about the benefits of doing so already, but it’s proven in the long term to keep me on my toes moreso than I thought possible. I own a lot of great albums already that I should be catching up with on a regular basis. Neglect—taking things for granted—has always been among my poorer suits. And I’d like that to change. Also, as motivation, I’m going to give myself an added perk: if I find an old record that I don’t enjoy anymore, I can sell it or trade it in and use that money to purchase something that I do want. (And that purchase does not count against my annual limit of 12.) It’s a sneaky loophole, but like any plan worth obsessing over, having an “out” can prove beneficial. For those that are in the habit of trading in records and find this loophole to be of obvious worth, let me assure you that I am not the kind of music fanatic that has traditionally parted with his music with ease. So, I don’t expect that I’ll find a whole lot to trade in. But, at least that option is there. Housecleaning is essential, and since this quest for clarity is a lot like a cleansing of my psyche, it’s only fair that I should apply the same principle to my record collection, too. I’ll keep you posted when I sell something so that you know just how much spending money I’ve accrued.
(Note: I do not download music illegally, so I will not be obtaining music through those channels. I do receive the occasional handout from publicists or friends, but I will refrain from seeking those out on my own.)
Long story shorter, if you’re hoping for a Best of 2005 list that’s as ridiculously long (and longwinded) as my Best of 2004 list, you’re going to be disappointed.
I call it my “Year Without Music,” which is of course only a half-truth (or maybe third-truth) since I will still be spending a good deal of time with (and a much smaller amount of money on) music. I do hope you stick around to see how it all pans out. Considering that I attempted to adopt this same approach at the beginning of 2004 and failed miserably, it’s quite possible that I’ll belly flop by March. But, this time around, I’ve got at least one secret weapon at my disposal: the support of M. She’s going to crack the whip or dress my wounds when necessary. So, I suspect my chances of success are better than 20%. Keep your wagers to yourself, please. Or, I might just go all Pete Rose on you.
Have a good New Year’s, and don’t forget to make a donation to a cause that matters. And no, I don’t mean the “Buy The Noiseboy a Record Fund.”
N/P—Simon & Garfunkel, “The Only Living Boy in New York”
Good luck on that. You'll probably appreciate your music even more. Collecting music is like collecting white elephants. What you want are elephants that can work for you and not just stand around and look pretty.
By 
, at 7:58 PM
I just watched Garden State on Saturday, so "The Only Living Boy in New York" is almost an eerie coincidence! Pretty decent soundtrack.
A
By , at 2:02 AM
7:58 PMGood luck on that. You'll probably appreciate your music even more. Collecting music is like collecting white elephants. What you want are elephants that can work for you and not just stand around and look pretty.
2:02 AM
I just watched Garden State on Saturday, so "The Only Living Boy in New York" is almost an eerie coincidence! Pretty decent soundtrack.
A