Listening

A few months ago I started posting songs on Facebook. I've done that before, but this evolved from an occasional post (often with some thematic connection to events of the day) into a daily post of songs I liked for one reason or another, or which I thought might resonate with my FB friends. But which I still liked. I spared everyone commentary, beyond "Good morning," and let the songs speak for themselves.

I also wanted to avoid too much duplication of artists and songs, which led to my keeping a list, one page of which you can see above.

 I've done more than 100 songs so far (which you can see and hear via Rich Heldenfels on Facebook) and some duplication has crept in, but it has been fun to reach into my memory banks and old files for contenders. Songs I liked in high school, songs I liked in college and young adulthood, songs I like now (hello, Lizzo!), songs I had on vinyl and tape and CD and on iTunes (although my iTunes account went weird some time back, wiping out a bunch of playlists, saved only my ancient iPod). 

This led to my revisiting a dozen or so old mix tapes I have held onto, thinking that at some point I would transfer the content to digital, Right. I am reminded of how Simon Callow wrote of Orson Welles's "countless fleeting projects that came to naught." I can't tell you how many stories I meant to do when a reporter, and just never got to. 

Which brings me to Spotify.

I had not gotten around to the service until recently, and then only for the free version. (I have my cheap side.) But it has been cool enough, not only in the seeing of others' playlists but in the creating of my own.

Well, semi-creating. Most of the playlists I have posted so far are as closely constructed from those old mix tapes (and marked accordingly) as the Spotify catalog allows. For example:

 If there was any disenchantment in the process, it was the discovery of gaps in what at first looked like EVERY SONG ANYONE COULD EVER WANT. So what had been 90-minute tapes became 70-minute playlists, or ones that substituted tracks -- which made me feel as if I had become one of those DVD distributors who plugged in cheap soundtrack music because they wouldn't pay for the original songs. After all, those songs in their original configuration are part of my life, and even a little difference in the hearing slaps at the memories. (So does listening to sparkling digital renditions of songs I had recorded from old 45s and scratchy LPs, the latter being the ones I still hear in my head.)

There's also a competitive urge. Here are my modest little lists, none more than two hours, and others are posting marathons. So I expect to be creating lists -- well, after I assemble a few mix CDs, anyway.

And if you want to hear what I was up to a lot in the '80s, the playlists are by Brenfels.