Hipstomp's Journal

Subject:	super seven one
Time:	9:23 pm.

I don't know how it happens, I guess you're sitting around your friend's house and he or she puts some good music on and a little spark ignites in the pleasure center part of your brain. It's probably just the booze or the nicotine but you don't know that so you ask who the track is by. They show you some tracks on their computer and by the time you head back for the subway half their hard drive is on your iPod.

People send you CDs, well they used to send me CDs anyway and I'd rip them all without thinking in between raiding drives. The ditty by this French band is good, maybe the other 39 are worth listening to.

Soon you've got forty gigs worth of tracks. Three of those gigs rock, another three flat-out suck and the shit in between is stone mediocre. And your iPod gets heavier. If a megabyte was an ounce, I could drop mine on the floor and it would crash right through, and I'd hear subsequent crashes and look down through the jagged floorboards at four storeys' worth of holes to see the ground-floor shopkeeper staring back up at me like What the fuck.

I just got rid of all my Hanne Hukkelberg and I feel great. Killed the Sondre Lerche too, anything with a falsetto voice and a violin goes in the shitter. Anything with an accordion that isn't ska goes in the shitter. We have to have rules in order to function as a society. Also had to kill most of the Coralie Clement, though I kept "Samba de Mon Coeur Qui Bat," check it out. It's no "Aquarela Do Brazil" (Elis Regina) but I might need it someday.

Must be tough being a musician, especially if you're seeking approval. You put a band together, spend years trying to get a contract, then you go through some horrendously bad breakup of a five-year relationship or whatever traumatic life experience led you to write this song, then some punk like me who didn't even pay for the track you slaved over deletes it because it's taking up 2.5 MB on my iPod. Sorry boss, maybe we'll all be friends on the other side. If it makes you feel any better, print out this blog entry and burn it.

"Aquarela Do Brazil" is a desert-islander, like there are Jericho-style mushroom clouds on the horizon and civilization's all gone but you're sitting in the shade of a palm tree on a tropical beach and this track is playing so it's all good. Twenty-eight gigs and counting down.

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