Chris_PianoThis isn’t some sort of CD sales in the tank discussion, nor will I repeat the word Napster after this introduction. I’m not interested in the tired debate of the state of the record companies and the broken business model. Those topics are well-trodden, and frankly, extremely boring. I’m a consumer of music, sure, but additionally, I’m a musician seeking to market his own music in a landscape that has expanded to immeasurable depths, but is it all for the better?

I fancy myself an artist. I create music–write it, record it, play it, share it. I’m a member of a band that maybe you’ve heard of but likely haven’t. We just finished recording our first full-length album after a couple of smaller “warm-up” efforts. In the coming months, as we take stock in where we are and where we go from here, I’ve become obsessed with the avenues by which music reaches its listeners.

Let me reveal some biases. I’m of the old-school frame of mind that albums matter, regardless of whether it’s vinyl, a CD, or some form of digital download. No matter how hard I try, I can’t abandon the traditional method of releasing songs as a group whose whole is greater than the sum of its parts. But to avoid sounding too much like the old man yelling at the neighbor kids to get off his damn lawn, I get it. It’s not like it used to be. Lots of people prefer to pick and choose songs on iTunes et al., and really I’m fine with it. What worries me far more is the medium through which they listen.

In many ways the physical product has become superfluous, but as consumers eschew the clumsy packaging in favor of the ease of transport (believe me, my iPod is bursting at its seams), an unfortunate byproduct is gaining steam–poor sound quality. Above all else, I’m astounded by how little the casual music listener cares about sound quality. Say what you will about the death of the CD, but at the very least, that disc forces its listener to put it into a player with speakers or headphones that reproduces a fair if not nearly exact representation of what the artist intended. A lackadaisical attitude on the part of the listener that began with the birth of the .mp3 and found oxygen via the invention of the iPod has stretched to incredible heights.

As mobile phones become increasingly all-encompassing, but continue to run at connection speeds that pale to standard high-speed internet, or amplify sound with speakers comparable to that of a string between tin cans, why on earth should an artist devote so much time, energy, money, and passion to recorded work?

Have you seen that HP commercial starring Alicia Keys in which she’s pumping some new something or other that lets one “hear music the way the artist intended”? I share her lament, but sorry folks at HP, I’m not convinced of the marketing tactic that there are enough people out there dying to hear music the way the artist intended or else they’d be doing it already. It’s called a stereo, and in 2011, they’re not exactly flying off the shelves.

Case in point: my brother and I have been doing some home improvement work on location the last couple of weeks. It’s the kind of environment in which a radio would be blasting nearby to shoot a bit of life into the handymen. Well, said radio couldn’t produce a decent signal, so in lieu of silence, we’ve turned to listening to music by way of his cell phone. Yes, of course! The cell phone! The next logical step in that transition. It’s a marvel of technology without a doubt to be able to punch a few buttons and have Pandora do what the old radio in the corner couldn’t, and that’s provide some music. Of course, our situation offered few alternatives, but there are assuredly plenty of people who use this technological wonder as their primary source. It’s a far cry from truly hearing what you’re listening to, is it not?

Another: my girlfriend, who is a music fan and has excellent taste, listens primarily via the speakers on her netbook, which is something of a crime that a more thoughtful boyfriend would have remedied with an improved solution long before now.

Back to that silly Alicia Keys anecdote. I’ve been especially fascinated with the nature of how people will hear our album. As we spend weeks and months tweaking every little detail to ensure not a single second of a single song is misrepresented, is it truly that important? With every scrutinized note, can we be confident that others will hear it the way we intended?

The answer to the first question is an emphatic yes. This album is a representation of ourselves as musicians, as people, and as artists. One of our many goals is to have this album mean something to others, but without question, it first must mean absolutely everything to us. Anything less just won’t cut it.

The second question is the problem. I suppose the easy solution is to worry only about what we can control, but hell, I’ve never had the will power to live by that logic in the past, so why start now? The saving grace lies in those who are leading the charge against the grain. Vinyl sales have risen from the dead to become something more than just a novelty. The fourth annual Record Store Day was held at independent record stores nationwide last weekend in honor of celebrating “the art of music.” Hundreds of bands ranging from obscure-hipster-groups-only-the-skinniest-of-jean-wearers-know-about to Lady Gaga released special edition material to mark the occasion.

The message here shouldn’t be some soap box cry about the good ol’ days or gobbling up vintage Hall and Oates 7″ B-sides in some arms race to prove one’s level of fandom. Instead, it’s good to know there are some people out there trying to do something cool to help encourage music fans to slow down in an era that’s anything but slow-paced. Next time you pick up a new CD or download one of iTunes’ top songs, give it a real listen. You will likely hear something you didn’t notice before.

Then, buy 100 copies of Borrow Tomorrow’s new album, and give one to all your friends. Yahtzee!

cj