I found myself searching through my music collection tonight for just the right song to fit my mood. I had to reach back to find it in the Rolling Stones’ Waiting On A Friend. The odds of my turning on the radio and finding a DJ in the same mood as I am are about as likely as Britney Spears being a virgin. Some guy programming a music computer in San Antonio days in advance can’t possibly know what I’d like to hear right now. That sucks.
As much as I bitch about the music industry (and as much as they damn well deserve it), I can’t deny that I just can’t do without their product. I’m hooked – a music junkie – and I’m having the hardest time quitting.
I own a ridiculous number of compact discs: three-hundred-plus shiny metal discs. They span the musical spectrum, from rock to, uh… rock. But different kinds of rock. Most of them are from bands you’ve probably never heard of. Many get played once or twice and then go into retirement.
I used to buy a CD about every other week, my musical cravings driven by the Music Choice cable radio service I used to subscribe to. Music Choice does what the local stations could never do: they play new, wild, unproven music. It was gloriously raw and unpredictable, and I didn’t take my headphones off for three years.
But one day the spell was broken. I’m not sure what made it happen really. Maybe the music just wasn’t as interesting, or I got tired of braving billowing cigarette smoke just to see a band play live. No matter what the cause, I hung up my headphones and turned my attention to other things.
My CD collection has largely stayed the same as that day I kicked my music habit. Oh sure, I still dutifully grab one or two for the road, but it’s really been a while since music really moved me. And I really miss that.
The day the music died was Thursday, February 8th, 1996: the day President Clinton signed the Telecommunications Act of 1996. According to some, the law was designed to spur competition in telecommunications. At least that’s what we were sold. What we got instead was massive consolidation:
The law as it existed prior to passage of the new Act contained certain restrictions on the ownership of broadcast stations in order to protect localism and the diversity of voices reaching people through the media. The new Act contains provisions that loosen those restrictions. The Act eliminates a national ownership cap for radio stations that the FCC had established and modifies local radio ownership limits.
In other words, the act essentially killed local radio. The big chains gobbled up stations with the higher profits brought forth through slash-and-burn practices and remote programming — the ultimate cause of local radio death. It’s like the Super Wal-Mart moving in and killing the funky little local shops downtown. Yeah, its shiny and all, but its mighty damn boring, too.
The libertarian in me cringes at government control, but what’s more painful is the loss of freedom of speech that the reduced ownership brought. The only voices you’ll hear are only the ones a very small handful of people want you to hear. And that includes music, too. Goodbye to any chance that promising local artist had to get her record heard.
I miss radio. I miss finding good music. If it wasn’t for the kindness of friends sharing their MP3 collections, I would never hear any music worth buying. The music industry died in the same manner of many of its stars: it overindulged itself to death. In spite of this, my ears are holding out hope that something new will take its place.
I want to be moved again.