In the mix
By: JACKY BRAMMER
STAFF WRITER
Tape clubs seem like a thing of the past.
But in an age when anyone can find any song on the Internet, they are in a sense a last bastion of rock knowledge.
Like some kind of musical illuminati, the die-hard music fans who make up these clubs swap burned compilations on a rotating monthly schedule. They trade music in a way that today's up-and-coming rock aficionados would never dream of doing - by hand.
The practice harkens to an era when fans traveled miles across America just to get bootleg copies of pirated concert material. Inherent in it is the idea that music is more than just bits and bytes, and it requires more than the peripheral interest that today's rock elitists are required to give to it.
The technology of music is changing, but the culture surrounding it adapts. While CDs have replaced tapes, it seems there is still no substitute for crafting a personal mix.
"There's nothing like making a CD for yourself and hitting the road," says Sean McCrossin, owner of CD Alley on West Franklin Street, where those who want more than the standard radio fare can rummage through dusty crates and thumb the corners of vintage record sleeves.
With the explosion of online downloading sites and portable MP3 players, the advancement of technology has helped rather than hurt these enthusiasts.
"People have easier access to music," McCrossin says. "One of the great things about file sharing is you can become your own DJ.
"You can create your own soundtrack for the day."
Vanishing specialty
While the culture of music trading - portrayed in movies such as "High Fidelity" - is still going strong, the institution that spawned it, the local record store, seems to be fading out.
Schoolkids Records and CD Alley are still going strong in Chapel Hill, but they are the exception rather than the rule.
"Nowadays no one goes to a store just to buy a CD," says Debashis Aikat, professor and media futurist at UNC.
"Today, you can customize your music experience. Today, music is interactive. Today, the music lover has the power."
Now it seems anyone can be a rock elitist.
With the click of a mouse, a casual music listener can find the same rare track that people used to drive across the country seeking.
"In many ways what we are seeing is a revolution," Aikat says. "Music is more affordable. It's cheaper. The music is available to a larger audience ... a black market of music is emerging."
Will this mean the end of the music industry as we know it?
In the long run, no. In music, technology has moved consistently and continually ahead of the industry.
In the 1890s the roll of the composer supposedly was made obsolete by the invention of piano rolls.
As phonographs became increasingly popular in the early part of the 20th century, people feared the concept of the band would lose purpose.
The phonograph was replaced by radio in the 1940s, and the Internet took the reins in the 1990s.
Yet at each point the music has survived.
"By now, the music industry should be used to being overrun by technology," says Paul Jones, UNC professor and director of the online digital archive ibiblio.org.
Rather than bucking the trend, the industry should embrace the change and get with the times, Jones says.
"At each turn, more people have heard music and the industry has gotten bigger and made much more money."
And despite the slow start, the trend toward digital music is being accepted by the industry and fans, and some are cashing in.
During the summer the European iTunes Music Store topped 50 million songs in its first year of downloading.
The Japanese version sold 1 million songs in its first four days of operation in August.
As of July 18, iTunes Music Store had sold more than 500 million songs.
Also, according to Big Champagne, an online media measurement company out of California, p2p activity has doubled since 2003.
Music accounts for more than 70 percent of the Internet sharing activity -and those are just the legal statistics.
Rock snob prediction
But to the collector there is more to music than just music.
McCrossin, of CD Alley, says he believes some people want the actual record itself and not just a digital facsimile of the music.
"It gives them an actual reason to walk into a record store," he says. "I'm sure they could download it. But they want the artifact itself."
"Half the fun is the pursuit - not even knowing what you're looking for," he added.
"I'm not in it for the instant gratification."
This kind of attachment to the record only increases through years of companionship and toil.
"The artifact itself - I'm the one that rolled a joint on it or spilled some beer on it, so I'm kind of partial," McCrossin says.
"The little dints and scratches are something I did," he says.
"I spent the time collecting it. - They're a nice way to go back and look at and remember where you were at specific moments in time to help you recall memories."
Others have concerns about the extremes of fan fixation.
"Whatever someone decides to hoard is what makes them unique, what makes their collection unique," Jones says.
"Music and video is about content. People claiming to make a physical claim have mistaken the nature of art."
But everyone involved is confident that the culture of specialists and experts will survive - for a while, at least.
"My guess is you'll see specialty stores survive that fill a particular niche and a community service," Jones said.
"People will still need rock snobs," Aikat says.
"We still need car snobs – I, of course, mean mechanics. We still need computer geeks. Why do we have all these help lines? People have to call these lines."
So where does this leave those "antiquated" tape clubs?
In the same place as before, with plenty of new material to share and spread.
"Any way people can be exposed to new music is good," McCrossin says.
"I definitely think that sharing is good. We have the technology. Why not put it to use?"
Contact the A&E Editor at artsdesk@unc.edu.
