Rant: Unplugged Is Underrated

You don’t go to concerts anymore or listen to authentic albums. You’ve been downloading music for years. First, Napster, then Aimster, then LimeWire. Now, you get all your friends’ albums via YouSendIt.com and watch live shows on YouTube. You’re so cheap some of the albums in your iTunes have been burned more than Cheech or Chong. Not counting the Vietnam vet plopped on the curb playing an imaginary kazoo, you haven’t heard live music since Phish broke up. No, live albums do not count. No, FM radio does not count. No, the clip of Radiohead at last year’s Bonnaroo your buddy recorded on his BlackBerry does not count.

It’s okay that the last time you broke your nose or someone else’s in a mosh pit you still had braces. It’s okay you can barely remember whether Coldplay always used distortion on their albums or if it’s just the bootleg. It’s even okay that it’s been years since you’ve woken up with your ears still ringing after a concert. Those decibel levels are dangerous. But, it’s not okay that you don’t plan to do anything about it. It’s not okay that you don’t care to hear “Master of Puppets” as purely as could be recorded or performed live. AM is not the same as FM is not the same as mp3 is not the same as mp4 is not the same as CD is not the same as vinyl is not the same as live. It’s never just music.

Thrashing about in a circle of sweaty, flabby punks at Warped Tour, that’s connecting to the music. Listening to a vinyl record that plays “Johnny B.Goode” so clear you can tell just how hard Chuck Berry fingers the minor E, that’s connecting to the music. Standing so close to the speakers during a Slayer concert that you can barely tell whether you’re having heart palpitations or it’s just the double-bass, that’s connecting to the music. Even listening to a CD reissue of Brian Wilson’s Smile is connecting to the music. Downloading the tape-recorded version of Chinese Democracy onto your iPod to drown out your droning air conditioner is not connecting to the music. USB cannot stream “Soul Sacrifice” into you; you need to mainline the vinyl grooves of Santana.

Instead of tangling yourself in a technological web of second-hand facsimiles, do like William Miller in Almost Famous: Light a candle and drop the needle on Tommy. It will set you free.