Dear friends,
This week, I finally got around to reading the late Mark Fisher’s seminal book Capitalist Realism. To me, it served as a much needed wakeup call how thoroughly embedded we all are in the ideologies of late stage capitalism. I’ve been thinking about Fisher’s ideas in conjunction with Liz Pelly’s searing takedown of Spotify. Specifically, I think these tech conglomerates have successfully sold us a type of pseudo communalism. We’re all supposedly listening together in a space where we can share music and see what each other are listening to each day. But, these communal spaces are owned by people who groom and shape our music tastes with precision. Before, one would have to acquire all the music they wanted to listen to and curate it themselves. You’d have to buy physical media like vinyls, cassettes, or cd’s. We were still operating in relationships of exchange with larger labels, but at least we owned the music we paid for and at least the artists got a theoretically fair cut of that.
Spotify has inserted itself into this commodity exchange of music. No one owns anything, except of course the CEO’s. Fisher specifically does an excellent job of pointing out how, in late stage capitalism, there is no central exchange with which we all interact. Capital is constantly disguising itself. He writes “the closest thing we have to ruling powers now are nebulous, unaccountable interests exercising corporate irresponsibility” (63). Spotify is an excellent example of this. It was founded in 2006, and now boasts 345 million users. It has exceeded a threshold of absolute power and control over the music industry. If any artist is to gain any traction or power, they are forced to try and rack up plays on Spotify. None of us really consented to Spotify becoming the juggernaut it is. We didn’t consciously trade in our physical music collections for the convenience of having an all powerful corporation control our music marketplace. However, it has become so powerful that it answers effectively to no one. And it has used that power to rack up profits and not pay artists fair compensation.
Streaming’s model echoes the advertising motifs of earlier eras. There has always been an emphasis on convenience. If one thinks about something like the Sony Walkman, it was effectively marketed as a tiny stereo. Something you could carry with you and see the world in a new light. Ads like this draw upon the communalism of listening to music. In it, we see a man left out of a social gathering at which everyone has their own soundtrack and dance going on. Within this individual listening arises a sort of paradoxical group bond. Yes, each person is aurally separated by headphones, but each of them is participating in their music together. This ad is frankly hilarious considering the ways in which headphones have pushed us not towards solidarity or empathy, but into our own individual listening pods where we are not to be disturbed. Spotify too boats this type of oxymoronic community whereby individual listeners are consuming media in their own little cocoons while also participating in an imagined listening community. Just as we used to trade cd’s or cassettes (or even make our own mixes), we can now share Spotify playlists.
But, beyond the lack of compensation for artists, services like Spotify have a deleterious effect on our consumption habits and desires. As we have more access, we lose an intimate connection with our music. In exchange for $9.99 a month, we have access to a supposedly unlimited library of music. But, we are also being groomed by an algorithm to consume in predictable and profitable habits. Rather than buy an artist’s album and listen as they see fit, we are increasingly turning to Discover weeklys. These playlists decontextualize art and morph it all into homogenous emotional blankets. What used to be a rock album is now a sonic motivational poster to which you can workout. Or what used to be a purposefully composed ambient album is a soothing piece of musical wallpaper at the coffeeshop. What is appealing about this music is not it’s artistic merit, but it’s ability to soothe and make us feel better. Not to say that this hasn’t always been a part of music appeal, but we haven’t always discarded any care about an artist in favor of a nebulous concept of “chill” above all else. One of the most disappointing experiences of the Spotify era is when a song is playing that piques my interest. When I ask about who the artist is, I’m frequently let down by a simple “oh yea it was on my discover weekly” without any desire to find out more. The only thing of interest about the song is that it’s “chill”.
Fisher draws a lot on the work of Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari in mapping out how capitalism recreates our desires. When we give way to algorithmic playlists, we risk deadening our own appetite for noise, feedback, personality, surprise, and many of the other elements that probably leads people to listen to the shows on Real Deep Radio. Yes, streaming allows us to consume more music easier than ever before. But it also grooms us to desire a narrower and narrower subset of music that is merely meant to cater to our feelings and emotions. It makes us less patient to an artist's work and less willing to sit through things in search of greater reward. I feel this too sometimes. The convenience of having playlists catered to my every mood has sometimes shortened my patience when I’m not in control of what’s playing. Listening to Real Deep Radio is sometimes strange for me. It’s strange to not have the power to select a playlist. But, checking this instinct has lead me to discover more wonderful, weird, and magical music than I have in years. I’m grateful to be a part of a space that re-contextualizes art and values things that challenge us. DJ’s here share themselves and the strange and less talked about musical spaces in which they spend their time. They’re constantly turning me onto things that are old, neglected, abrasive, obscure, soulful, and just plain fun. So, again, thank you for being with us. Thanks for imagining a community of passionate music listeners can still exist and thrive in these fractured and alienating times. Your passion and enthusiasm keeps me coming back each week.
Yours,
Adam (and Kevin and Hugh)
SCHEDULE
all times EST, tune in at https://mixlr.com/real_deep_radio/
Sunday, 2/21
8:30-9:30PM – Toxic Dogs with Ivana Ng
An ode to Ivana's radio show in her college days, Toxic Dogs is an exploration of avant-garde jazz from around the world, with the occasional soul, funk and R&B. This is music for deep listening, introspection, and joyous movement.
Monday, 2/22
7-8PM – Only Bad Music with DJ Trash Bag
This week’s episode brings you some comfort food to help guide you through a seemingly endless February. Songs about pizza, burgers, and cornbread are here to make you feel like we’re all together, sharing a meal filled with love while so far apart.
Wednesday, 2/24
8-10PM – Early Electronic with Adam Brill
Friday, 2/26
7-9PM - Deep Trough with Lucas Knapp, Jack Washburn & Hugh Wilikofsky
Three little piggies going back2back2back trading track4track4track, trying to collectively weave a coherent but eclectic mix with no preparation whatsoever. If someone derails the vibes they will be shamed on air and the vibes will be reset. Turn on, tune in, call us out; slop in the trough with us.
Saturday, 2/27
8-10AM – Hypnopompia Morning Show with Michael Cormier
Music to soundtrack the fragile moments right before reaching for your phone and realizing the world has gone on without you while you slept.
8-9:30PM – Hot Wax Vol. 3 with Jon Loeb
This Saturday will be a special edition of Hot Wax celebrating the life of the great jazz pianist and astral traveler Chick Corea who passed away on February Ninth.
RECOMMENDED
ADAM: I’m normally skeptical of soundtracks, particularly those to videogames. I find they frequently are made for the game and have a certain banality on their own. Listening to them outside the concept of a film or a game feels more like indulging in fan service. However, this week, I discovered the soundtracks for the Streets of Rage games. Composed by Yuzo Koshiro, these soundtracks pull from a lot of the club music that was popular in the early 90’s. But, they’re also forward looking flawlessly composed electronic bangers that feel fun, kinetic, and utterly timeless. Speaking of timeless, I also listened to Bernard Szajner’s album Some Deaths Take Forever. It’s mind-blowing to me that this masterclass in industrial techno beats was made in 1980. It’s also apparently Carl Craig’s favorite album. This week, I also went back and revisited one of my old favorites from high school in Suede’s sophomore album Dog Man Star. Despite having one of the fastest selling debut albums of all time, Suede are curiously overlooked. But, their sophomore album takes the hookiness of their self titled and amps up the melodrama. It’s a pleasant surprise how well it holds up. Well, I guess it shouldn’t be surprising as their guitarist, Bernard Butler, is every bit as skilled as Johnny Marr.
KEVIN: At this point, it’s no secret that there’s a great depth of material from Arthur Russell waiting for us to dive in. One collection that I think is chronically overlooked is First Thought Best Thought, which collects several of Russell’s instrumental compositions. I’m particularly attached to both the parts that are just called “instrumentals.” These are perfectly written pieces of minimal pop-rock, and there’s a loose, almost amateurish quality to their performance that makes them seem endlessly explorable.