I read that Adele's latest album has recently secured its one millionth sale via download, which got me to thinking about how we are starting to consume our cds and books.
It seems anomalous to me that in a time of growing materialism two of the things that I hold dearest, words & music, are quickly becoming electronic commodities, ciphers of their physical selves. A 100,000 word novel can be downloaded in moments to your pamphlet-thin Kindle where it is stored in a virtual library. A newspaper hived off to your iPad, where it will fight for your attention alongside your photo albums, myriad apps and slick Internet interface. Meanwhile your record collection can be held on your laptop. Of course, with the advent of Spotify you could argue that you need not bother with a hard drive loaded with mp3s any longer. That being the case, why bother with your own record collection any longer?
It''s all very convenient, but I find something cold in all this efficiency - as if the technology is becoming more important than the art being delivered.
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