By Ronald N. Guy Jr.
Quarterbacks Aaron Rodgers, Tom Brady and Ben Roethlisberger
might be fans of vinyl records, or at least sworn adversaries of the compact
disc (CD). With that introduction…
The CD dealt a serious blow to human civilization. An overstatement? Probably. Completely false?
Absolutely not. Its sin? The CD, that sleek invention from the depths
of the place where dark souls are said to reside, made real-time music surfing
possible and, in the process, forever disfigured how we listen to music.
Prior to the disc, music resided on cassettes, 8-tracks and
vinyl records, formats that forced more a deliberate, patient listen. If you
wanted to jump around to hit songs, you could, but it involved toggling between
four often disjointed programs (8-tracks), an inexact fast-forward or rewind
(cassettes) or getting up off the couch and manipulating the needle
(records).
The “consequence”, as I’ll sarcastically call it, was that
the listener tended to experience the entire album. What a concept!
Recognizing the inconvenience of pre-CD media, hit songs were often
placed at the beginning of a side, prime territory for a quick find or replay;
I appreciated artists that didn’t follow the marketer’s script, the ones that
slotted their singles in awkward places, thereby ensuring total album
consumption and creating an opportunity to discover hidden gems. I’m tipping my cap to Kix, the
Maryland-based band, who placed the song The Itch at the end of side one
of their debut album and the Rolling Stones for tucking Tumbling Dice at
the end of the first Exile on Main Street record.
And then there were the artists who buried great songs in
inauspicious places, little rewards of sorts for dedicated listeners. “Rocket Queen”, the last song on Appetite for Destruction by Guns N’ Roses is incredible. Prince put the fabulously raunchy “Darling
Nikki” last on side one of Purple
Rain. Bob Dylan’s ended his iconic Highway 61 Revisited album
with the absolutely amazing “Desolation Row”.
If the CD didn’t completely kill such album experiences, the
MP3 and digital media seem certain to choke out its last breaths of life. The single rules now: three minutes of
overproduced, hyper-marketed sound from computers and bedazzled pop stars that
can be downloaded for instant satisfaction and played until it promotes
nausea. Who has the patience to spin a
record?
The aforementioned Rodgers, age 30, isn’t old enough to
remember cassettes, but he has cracked back on society’s impatience. In response to early-season criticism,
Rodgers, one of the coolest and best quarterbacks in the NFL, spelled out a
five-letter retort to irritated Packers fans: R-E-L-A-X. The Packers have done just fine since. The agitation isn’t confined to the land of
cheese. A few weeks ago, New England
and Pittsburgh were struggling. Brady
and Roethlisberger, despite their five Super Bowl titles, allegedly couldn’t
play anymore. Patriots coach Bill
Belichick had lost his hoodie-fueled brilliance; Steelers coach Mike Tomlin was
on the hot seat. Well, since the gripes
reached a crescendo, no team has been hotter than the Patriots and
Roethlisberger tossed six touchdown passes in consecutive games. Premature panic? You think?
The death of the album and quick criticism of the NFL’s best
quarterbacks is bothersome, but its root cause – pervasive impatience and an
intolerance of any frustration or discomfort – has significant reach. We have to have it all – hit songs or wins
on Sunday – right now. The grass
elsewhere is assumed to be greener the minute the blades under our feet
discolor. The bird in the hand, despite
its accomplishments, is obsessively critiqued while the unknown two in the bush
are romanticized. Shortcomings and bad
moments create labels that cannot be removed.
No one – not even Super Bowl winning quarterbacks – are permitted the
latitude to fail, to grow and to overcome.
To heck with the process, the journey, evolution or the opportunity to
reveal something – a character trait, a team quality or a great song – that’s
not immediately apparent.
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