This is by no means a new phenomenon, as this February Washington Post article shows. In fact, when you think about it, Generation iPod is using the speed and capacity of today's digital music players to perfect a process that was begun by thirtysomethings and some folks who are just a little older.
We turned cassette tapes into personal statements back in the pre-digital era, though the music we shared at the time might raise a few eyebrows nowadays. (The Human League? Who are they?) Only a few years ago, mix tapes were still great forms of personal greetings, something that we used as a personal resume to give people just a little taste of the way we spent our private time.
| ___About Random Access___ Random Access is a daily column by Robert MacMillan that explores the latest trends in technology and how they are changing daily life. Random Access won't tell you why a new gizmo will revolutionize your ad server. It will tell you about episodes from daily life -- exasperated waiters who use blogs to vent about their customers, whole runs of salmon injected with nanoparticles for individual tracking in Norwegian fjords and the growing number of DJs who are sick of being sidelined in favor of iPods. (Only one of these stories is fake.) Most of what you see will be culled from news sources and blogs from around the world, though we will supplement Random Access with original files on the novel, unusual, bizarre and reactionary happenings in the world of technology and society. E-mail: Send links and comments. | | |
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We spent our time poring over just the right mix without having to spill over into a second 90-minute tape. Do I put on "Girlfriend in a Coma" or "How Soon Is Now..." "Girlfriend is four minutes shorter... that'll fit on the end of the tape." We discriminated in our choices like a hyper-manic Rob in the 2000 film "High Fidelity," especially when the tape was designed as a tool of attraction.
With the arrival of the iPod (and all the other digital music players), we have the benefit of not having to discriminate. We can still make great mixes if we want, but on the other hand, we can just send the whole collection and let the recipients sort it out. I love the idea of putting my entire music collection on such a convenient device, but part of me would rather get the well-thought-out mix that the cassette forced us to make.
Singing From the Grave
It's reader feedback time. Last Thursday I highlighted a Los Angeles Times article about how music producers are resurrecting dead singers by digitally breaking apart and reassembling their voices to make them "sing" songs that never passed their lips.
I sided with country music singers like Vince Gill who aren't so hot on messing with the dearly departed. But at the same time I was intrigued. If you had the chance, who would you bring back from the dead and what would you have that star sing? Well, some readers shared their thoughts:
* Francisco Guerrero of San Francisco: "I've always thought that if I ever could make something like this work I would have Elvis Presley sing 'Wicked Game' by Chris Isaak. That would be one hell of a song, to have the King sing it."
* Philippe Herndon opined that "Conway Twitty's vocals were no more of a personal voice than John Bonham's beats, James Jamerson's bass lines, or Curtis Mayfield's wah-wah stabs." He suggested that "those a capella performances of the Beach Boys' 'Pet Sounds' are just begging to be looped, cut, pasted, and thrown over beats."
* Greg Lee: "How about Jimi Hendrix doing anything Back Street Boys? Bob Marley doing Eminem ... Tammy Wynette doing Pink?"
* Justin Wahe: "I'd like to have Screaming Jay Hawkins sing 'Chocolate Jesus' by Tom Waits. Or maybe 'Red Right Hand' by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds."
* Jack Halsbond came up with a good one for suggesting Elvis Presley replacing Jim Morrison on "Riders on the Storm," as well as the winner for weirdest idea -- Dean Martin singing "Werewolves of London."
* Reader Steven Chandler of Dodgeville, Wisc., wondered why we should continue graverobbing when there are plenty of great singers out there today who don't benefit from good marketing because they aren't necessarily camera-friendly: "I think I'm going to start a record label called Not So Pretty But Damn We Can Sing -- and we'll match our best against anything you can produce with electronic/computer wizardry!!"
Rest Stop Love
Doesn't that just sound too sleazy to print? A posting on the Slashdot.org Web site says that the Texas House State Affairs Committee plans to vote on a bill that would require the state to filter wireless Internet access at rest stops in the Lone Star State. The person who posted this item wrote, "This bill protects truckers at highway rest stops and campers in their RVs at campsites from adult content. Sounds both wasteful and unconstitutional."
Speaking of truck drivers, the San Jose Mercury News reports on a Mountain View, Calif.-based startup called Xora that has developed software for big rig haulers to keep digital logs of their load weights, maintenance records and hours spent behind the wheel. Why bother to replace the dead-wood versions? Apparently, some truckers keep two sets of books, one for the record and one for what they really are up to, the Merc reported: "Xora's technology also will note if a truck moved while the driver was supposed to be sleeping. Truckers who break the rules by carrying multiple logs would have a tougher time because Xora's electronic sign-on, sign-off system makes it tougher to cook the books... . The system also will alert drivers -- and their home offices -- when someone is nearing their maximum daily hours of driving."
Bringing Up Baby Via Cellphone
The New York Times reported today on "mobi-toons," video programming displayed on cellphones that can be used to pacify wailing babies. The Walt Disney Co. and Warner Bros. are working on this project, as are "Teletubbie" creator Anne Wood, the BBC and the crew behind "Sesame Street." The technology was on display at the MIPTV international television conference in Cannes.
Send links and comments to robertDOTmacmillanATwashingtonpost.com.
