If there's one thing on which I pride myself, it's self-awareness. Granted, I've been vividly reminded just this week that knowing your shortcomings does not constitute a free pass for them... but that's a whole different issue. I've always seen myself as profoundly aware of my limitations (although, if I weren't aware of my limitations... would I realize it?) -- which shouldn't be news to anyone who reads this space "regularly". I haven't been too reluctant to share my foibles here.
For example, a few years back I wrote a prediction of what would happen if I ever got an iPod: Perhaps more to the point, I just don't need something else that needs to be "managed". I'm sure it's supposed to be a selling point when they say how many zillion songs an iPod will hold, but all I can think is, "When will I have time to find the sites and find the songs and download them all?" And oh by the way, continue paying and paying. It used to be that if I wanted a collection of cool tunes, I'd go to Caldor or Ames and slap down $4.98 for the latest K-Tel album. A zillion songs times 99 cents is a daunting prospect.
Well, of course I did end up with an iPod, and I was able to distract myself for a year or more with all the music I already owned -- actually, I've hit 2 years of recording and I stillhaven't gotten everything I own digitized (although I've gotten all the good stuff, I think). But I've also been very intentional about not getting sucked into downloads; I've been afraid that I'd end up that alcoholic who just takes one little drink... and wakes up in the gutter 3 days later. I went for months not even spending iTunes cards, except to make CDs for the family. And frankly, right now I have $17.82 in my iTunes account and I've been a bit overwhelmed by the prospect of choosing 18 songs out of Every Song in the Universe.
So I guess I can't really explain what happened to me a few weeks back when I saw an ad in Entertainment Weekly for a free 7-day trial for emusic.com: 25 free downloads. Although I knew I would still grapple with the needle/haystack conundrum, there was something about the message that spoke to me -- it could have been the word "free". In fact, when I finally gave in and went to check it out, I even found that they had upped the offer to 35 free.
This would take planning on the order of the lead-up to D-Day. I painstakingly went through the database building a list of 35 target songs. I wanted to have the whole list plotted before beginning the 7-day term, so I could get in & get out with no danger of spilling into non-free time.
I started my quest with the songs I featured in that original pre-iPod post, and was delighted to see several of them listed; also a bit frustrated to see that some of the artists I sought were missing, or didn't include the albums/songs I needed, or the songs were there but listed as album-only. Nevertheless, with a little adjusting and scraping and resetting of sights, I was able to build a very enticing list of tracks.
So I found a 7-day window that I thought would afford me a chance to do the job before the clock ran out on me, and joined. Of course, I had to provide a Major Credit Card -- for identification purposes only. After the reg process was over, I started my shopping spree.
As I went back to the songs I had already scouted, I discovered that on top of all the other restrictions I had made my way around, some of my target songs were labeled, "We're sorry, but this item can only be downloaded using paid credits." I grabbed what I could and decided I'd better regroup... only to find that some of the songs I had already downloaded that claimed to be by original artists really weren't, and others were "rerecorded" versions that didn't sound much like the version I heard in my head that was the experience I was seeking to duplicate.
Brief pause -- make your own "voices in his head" joke.
So I went back through the database yet again, even more painstakingly. I reviewed my current collection to see if I was "missing" anything from my favorite artists, and I used the Genius feature in iTunes to suggest connections I might have forgotten (keep in mind, a lot of the music I was after is from what you might call Another Era -- although like most people my age, I prefer the term "classic" to "oldies").
Finally, I had a decent list of 35 assembled, but I also had a Shadow List of songs I really wanted that were closed off behind the "paid credits" door. So I concluded: what's the harm in one month of subscription music? The basic account provides 24 songs for $11.99 (i.e. 50 cents each, half of iTunes pricing). I knew I could make a very worthwhile list of 24 more, for a total of 59 for $12: basically 20 cents each.
So I finished off the free downloads, automatically triggering my first paid month. I had enough good stuff waitlisted that, even though I was still disappointed by some songs that were missing altogether, I was able to quickly knock off what I felt to be good value.
All that remained was the formality of canceling my account so I could be free of further charges, which I was planning to so "sometime this week"... until not long after, when checking my email revealed a message from emusic: "We've just added 10,000 new albums to our database! Click here to view..." etc.
In the immortal words of Carrie Bradshaw, "I couldn't help but wonder..."
So back I went into the database and, page by page, clicked through the entire list of recently-added, something like 900 pages, not counting my frequent detours into artist listings that looked promising (some of which were the very omissions that put me behind the 8-ball to begin with).
To make a long story almost exactly the same length, but maybe a little narrower, when the meter clicks over for 24 more songs (and 12 more bucks) in February, I'll be standing there with list in hand saying, "Please sir, I want some more."
No doubt there's some fresh sleight-of-hand awaiting me -- now you hear it, now you don't. Never fear, I'm planning to bring to bear on this problem the same resolve, determination, and strength of character that enabled me to join the Columbia House Record Club in 1978, and only stay in it until... last year, when the now-BMG club folded.
OK, technically, they really just transferred me to yourmusic.com, but I hardly ever go search the entire database. Three times a year, tops.
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