Party Like It's 2002

How To Collect Music

The internet made me, musically. Discovering music blogs like Music for Maniacs, which curated weird sounds as downloads, brought a whole new world of sound into my bedroom. When I decided to change how I related to the internet in the 2010s, it required re-learning a lot of skills I had as a teenager - and finding they still work, allowing me to pick up exactly where I left off. And my life is much richer for it

I like having access to the immensity of song through the web - it truly makes me happy. Like so many other things about the web, I wouldn't change it for anything, and I cannot imagine the intense poverty of my life without it - and yet, the corporate web wrecks my mood and balance whenever I am touched by it. It is the act of conscious curation - once more making music my hobby, a thing I participate in which gives it its joy.

Why learn how to collect music?

Like so many modern digital platforms, music streaming promises to save you time and effort - and yet, saving you time doing what and for what purpose? I see in it that the time I save is the time I would have spent listening to, thinking about, exploring and encountering music: that is, the work of being into music. Meanwhile, the time saved is - I suppose - for taking on a side hustle.

Streaming services give the illusion of completeness, and in doing so, profoundly erase anything that cannot be seen - they disproportionately favour older songs over new, and well-known artists over obscure. Obviously, they pay nobody. And they funnel you towards artists the company has connections to, and in some cases, artists that do not even exist - a problem that will worsen with AI. The songs are presented and selected to lull you into the same disembodied grazing behaviour as every other platform, of that focused-absence of attention-and-frustration which holds you there as long as possible. Being intentional about the times I look for music, and the times I listen to it, prevents me going down the clickhole in search of what I crave - if I wanted to log off for the entire evening, I could do so, knowing decisions I made about my music in the past will be there for me.

Collecting music makes me happier than streaming it. In this act, there are two main characters: myself and the music. My library reflects my tastes, my pride, my collecting success, my memories - in short, my Self. And it contains works of music - not content, not products, albums. An album folder does something for me, cognitively, that a favourited album stream does not: I perceive it as an object. It puts a pin in time. Having once lost a much cared for playlist when a streaming service shut down - in fact, I have no record of what I listened to the time between, when I relied on streaming music, though I can remember my tastes in 2001 just by scrolling back in the files.

(I like this essay on The Deleted Years - he's right that so many acts of this era were short-lived, a chaotic moment when artists could launch themselves on internet hype without the support that meant permanence. And yet these years are not forgettable because I still have all the songs, which is more than I can say for the 2010s. Did I even listen to music in 2014? I think that was when I got seriously back into the Caretaker, than is, an artist I remembered from 2004.)

Some people are afraid to use the smallweb because the fear loss of access to the illusion of everything. But for media, the smallweb can be especially re-empowering - because it's more leisurely and less overwhelming, it's easier to actually follow up on recommendations, and not just get pulled into the undertow. Music connects you to a time and place, and the intentionality with which you sought it out and heard it (on which theme, see also my essay on The Haunted Web)

For all that streaming has everything, it can feel like nothing at all - funnelling you towards things you already know - because that search-bar-to-anything is simply too much freedom. That freedom-paralysis is then resolved by the algorithm. No choice is involved at either stage. I feel more present and experimental with my files, because I am forced to participate. My taste has expanded through this process. Library music, space disco, psych folk, and I think I'm into new jack swing now?

There's also an important argument around labour - which I've written about at the bottom of the page here

tl;dr

  • more small, independent, marginalised creators
  • more unusual sounds
  • more chance discoveries with things you never knew you liked
  • more present & participating in thinking about what you hear
  • listen to a lot more music because there's so much more to listen to
  • your collection is yours
  • available offline if the power goes out
  • you don't have to interact with the Man whenever you want to spin a tune

& if it seems like that was a bit negative, I can only emphasise my joy now, at the place music has in my life - not just the bands I like, but music as a whole, everything and anything I have yet to discover. Like so much about the smallweb - from hand-making websites to using linux - re-engaging with technology in these old fashioned ways has revealed that at least for me, my memories of better days were not nostalgia - the way I used to do things made me happier, but the way is not lost, merely neglected.

Why own your music?

Digital downloads are the music technology revolution of our generation. Piracy showed its potential, but it had three downsides:

  • it was illegal
  • artists didn't get paid
  • modest risk of viruses etc

Streaming services rose to meet that demand - but crucially, they only solved two problems. Streaming services are safe and legal, but trap artists within new kinds of poverty and corporate greed.

Like many contemporary technologies, streaming is seductively awful. One is unaccountably reluctant to give it up, despite sensing the ways that it is worse. Returning to how I consumed music in the 00s is meaningfully different: I feel different about my music, my day, and my self. Perhaps you will too?

I think the ways these services remove friction, effort and your conscious participation changes how much your mind grips onto them; and it feels good because this frees up energy and focus for other things,

and yet, and yet, if we love music shouldn't we see the value in giving it our energy and focus? Is it actually a good thing that we are freed from this 'work'? Isn't this work, in reality, the hobby of music - not just in the listening, but in the choosing, sorting, considering and pausing with. Spotify is not the washing machine.

It is so evocative of our weary era that we would celebrate a labour-saving device replacing our time for music lovering, freeing us up for more hustling or sleep. My husband compares it to the appeal of AI Art: no one is crying out to be spared the labour of being creative, and yet one wants the artwork and the sense of having been involved, but lacking the time and energy to actually draw and make your own pictures.

We resist this because we must. When we agree with capital that our energy must be put first towards serving it, it is the dishwater of life. We must claim full agency over those parts of life which are in our control.

How do I discover music?

Whenever you come across media that interests you, jot it down. Create a habit of doing this - in a html file, or a notepad file, a phone note, or any other tool which is simple - whenever you find a recommendation, and another habit of checking it when you are at a loose end. Over time, this creates your own content recommendation system.

It's easy to find things to listen to without the algorithm when you know how to look. Here are some places on the internet to explore:

Review Sites

Music magazines and independent bloggers

Books about Music

Learning about favourite genres, movements or artists lead to new discoveries. Ones I've enjoyed include:

  • Ghosts of my Life - Mark Fisher (hauntology)
  • Electric Eden - Rob Young (pastoral music)
  • Love Saves the Day - Tim Lawrence (disco & dance music)
  • The Show that Never Ends - David Weigel (prog rock)
  • The Tapestry of Delights - Vernon Joynson (UK psych, beat and progressive music between 1963 - 1976)
  • 1001 Albums to Hear before you Die

DJs

The job of a DJ is to curate music, digging up new discoveries or mysterious old things from the past - to have good taste and know how to present it - and the way songs are brought together can be far more revelatory than the randomness of streaming. However, depending on the DJ, some of them hide the names of their songs to keep them obscure.

I use Youtube-DLP downloader on websites such as Soundcloud, Mixcloud, Resident Advisor (or youtube if you like, but the sound quality isn't the best) to make permanent copies of anything I enjoy.

Hobby Websites & Shrines

I always bookmark these even if I don't think I like the genre. They are rare, and who knows when I will need expert advice?

Record Labels & Independent Shops

Small labels that have made songs you liked in the past may have other artists in the same scene or genre - similarly, when I go to little music shops I've found records at before, I always come away with new interests.

Labels I Like

Record stores

Curator Blogs

Back in the old days, we relied on blogs for this. Networks of blogs and individuals would curate and hype up music they loved - often sharing the files as well - opening a world of ideosyncratic tastes and unusual discoveries. When you find them, hold them close and dear.

If you're on websites with fandom, look up fanmixes and try them even if you don't care for the subject.

Websites for Institutions

For example, annual music awards, top record sales lists, the National Recording Registry of the Library of Congress.

p2p filesharing

If you use programs such as Soulseek to find songs, check out the user or full album of what you find - they often have interesting things you've not heard of. Whenever you find something in full FLAC you know you've found the good stuff - music some nerd cared about enough to save in the highest fidelity formats.

Independent Radio Stations

Indie radio stations are expensive and often illegal to run - so what's makes the cut is always pure gold, people with passion and knowledge both.

Ask your friends

DM, post, or in person. Start conversations: ask the chat what their song-of-the-year was. Seek recommendations for a winter playlist. Play Music League. When you see people writing about music, always go and check it out.

Go out

Pubs, clubs, music festivals, open deck nights; anywhere CDs or records are sold, from dedicated shops to second hand bins. The commitment to a sense of physicality in sound can open you to experiences to go about in the world.

How to listen to music

Once you're on the trail of something interesting, go listen to it. You can stream it - because I'm not against access to the sounds, but the way streaming discourages you from participating in discovery. You can buy it. You can pirate it.

Write about what you are loving

If you have a personal website or use a small social, make sure to mention what you've enjoyed - genres you know all the strange releases for, upcoming books by friends, casettes you own, and so on. Make mix-tapes, blog or do mini-updates, make best-of-year lists, log or rate what you listen to, write about how it makes you feel, and play music when people visit - all of these turn music from background sound into a hobby.

A lot of small artists feel trapped on mainstream social media in an attempt to promote their work - so hyping independent artists in our own spaces can help them flourish.

Get A Music Manager

If you collect files, download a program to organise your music files with. Your laptop probably comes with one, which has been deliberately under-featured and stripped back in comparison with the powerful generic software I remember from my youth.

Ones I've tried include:

  • Media Monkey - I like the custom tag features; pleasurable and modern to use; has add-ons, I'm excited to play with the server; but I'd like it to be more customisable in appearance. I used Media Monkey back in the day, & it's nice to see it's still in development and looking great. My overall preference.
  • Clementine - old-fashioned looking (not a criticism), I like its 'Groups' feature allowing me to basically sort my albums into sublibraries; I like being able to have multiple playlist tabs open at once to shuffle songs between them. My Linux preference.
  • Foobar - for tech hobbyists only, with an extremely customisable interface, but learning how to do that is a whole hobby in itself so it's only for people with a strong need for that power or who will enjoy the task for its own sake
  • cmus - text-only music player from the Linux command line. Really satisfying to use, fast and low-resource and makes you feel cool. you already know if you're someone who wants a music player in the terminal

About Audio Formats

I collect mp3s at 320kbps. For me, this is the right trade off between high quality and adequate file size.

On your Phone

If you collect files, every time you feel like it, use your music manager and your phone cable to transfer new music onto and off of your phone for listening on the move. You won't always have everything to hand - but if you truly need something, streaming will still exist for you. But it helps you to sit with albums - things which reward you on a second or third listen, or surprise you in new ways

But the purpose of rotating things on and off your device is to create time. To interact with these objects in a tangible way. The awkwardness is the point: it means you handle the music as you look through your collection and decide what to carry. Music doesn't happen to you, it's a thing you spend time with.

Another trick is to pick up a cheap, old phone. You can get huge amounts of space for a device that won't run modern apps and is therefore a bit worthless, for very little money. So long as it has a functioning charging cable port, you can likely drag-and-drop files onto it, if not using the sync function with a program like Media Monkey. You can add internet or use it without to create an old-school mp3 player. My current one is 125GB and I got it for £20, it scratches my fingers to shit because of the cracked glass and won't run grindr. i am in heaven.

Get headphones and some speakers

The texture of music reveals the sound technology in the moment it was made. Blues responds to the raw immediacy of the single-take wax disc. Prog needed the album (and the album art). Dance music was made by the 12". New Age music demands the lush sonic richness of CD players.

We have got used to the tinny quality of streaming media, an acceptable trade-off for the delight of having access to everything. But it is a pale shade, so when your budget allows, pick up some good entry-level audiophile headphones or plug-in speakers. Read reviews to pick something decent, but even the £50 mark is a significant increase in pleasure over on-board speakers.

If you tend to listen at your desk, a good investment can be big sound system from the 90s, 00s or 10s, which can be picked up 2nd hand for a steal as people give up their CD collections. Then add a 3.5mm cable to connect to your phone, laptop or ipad.

If you've never listened to music like this before, it is otherworldly.

Enjoy Metadata

Browsing, importing, and sorting your music isn't essential but I like spending time with my collection. Depending on my mood, I like...

  • getting the dates and genres correct so I can do better playlists
  • browsing songs to add to theme mixes
  • Adding ratings to songs
  • Adding albums I'm missing from artists or genres I know, in case there's a hidden gem
  • Organising the folders

Pleasure

Owning your music makes you an archivist: there is music in my collection from the 00s which is available nowhere else; it is possible I have the only copy. Media is collectively owned - we feel like our favourite television programs and songs are part of us, and yet repeatedly corporations have been shown they cannot be trusted with our heritage. This is true in the art world, television, music, anything online. Rare things are all-too-frequently saved by individuals who love it, but do not own it - who recognise its value and care enough to put in that work.

Your own music collection gives you a lot more control, all of these add to the pleasure of the hobby.

  • make your music player look however you want, adjusting colours and layout and what data you can see
  • advanced filter and search functions ("give me every song marked Disco-Funk released between 1972-1974!")
  • add-ons to change how it behaves (for example, with MediaMonkey you can install a server for remote streaming, essentially running your own Spotify)
  • Incorporated internet radio stations and RSS feed for catching podcasts
  • adding custom tags (I use this for dynamic playlists - using tags to get all songs immediately, regardless of where the music is now stored without having to add them onto a playlist every time or deal with dead links; and I use them for my DJing, tagging things like their mood and vibe).
  • make a playlist in the app, and then export it to a folder of songs I can send to a friend as a mix-tape, or a list in text format I can publish to my own website - this has a permanence which playlists on streaming services lack.
  • I like being able to have my play-counts and ratings going back to my teens.
  • The act of downloading music and putting it into my collection supports my psychic experience of music; it imposes a limit, a start and a finish, and I find it helps draw my attention in new ways. I like seeing all my album covers and rummaging through them.
  • Requires you to interact with human curation to find new music, but filtering also enables you to hear deeply with your own collection too - for example, things you've downloaded but only listened to once.
  • Keyboard shortcuts are nicer to use than clicking

Some of these, I view as important because I think it is essential to restore 'lonely fun' to the internet. When I were a lad, the appeal of being on the computer all day was already strong - but there was less to 'do' there. Getting a nice desktop with custom icons, a pretty webpage, collecting avatars and icons etc became important because they were ways to extend your fun without needing new content or interaction - which might not come until tomorrow. Perhaps you would tinker with the computer's settings or noodle with some code.

I think this is an essential way the web has worsened, and as ever - the presence of more content is seductively appealing. Isn't that better than wasting time? What I see is the replacement of times which were active and creative with those which are passive, and highly likely to worsen your day. I also think about what 'competition' looks like online now. It's a fairly standard part of human nature to want to be noticed, and in my memory how people stood out was by having the most gorgeous aesthetics, or providing the most useful resources. As those have diminished in importance, what makes people stand out is causing the most drama, and that's especially troubling when that drama has a political veneer - gatling out the most lurid takes on queer microspats to passers by. That is so detrimental - politically and communally - and I often wish these people could be duking it out over whether someone plagiarised their anime dragon design.

The news is hideous, so what better way to spend your downtime than working your way through someone's Greatest New Age Albums Of All Time while ensuring your music player skin looks good with your laptop wallpaper?

See also: