|
|
|
|
|
|
HOME | ABOUT | BIOS | EMAIL |
|
 |
| |
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
COMMUNICATION BREAKDOWN
Led Zeppelin
Led Zeppelin I
Atlantic : 1969
[Buy It]
I FOLLOW YOU
Amadou et Mariam
Welcome to Mali
Nonesuch : 2008
[Buy It]
TOO MANY BIRDS
Bill Callahan
Sometimes I Wish We Were an Eagle
Drag City : 2009
[Buy It]
Lately, everyone's talking about Twitter. Or is that twittering about talking? Regardless, the 140-character-limit monologue (mono-blog?) has gotten us all a flutter. It's the future of communication! The future of the written word! The future of the future!
If it's the future, then it has to be distinct from the past, right? By that standard, Twitter earns its stripes. We've probably always had some interest in endlessly self-indulgent pitter-patter, but now we finally have the tools to give constant shout outs to people--of course, they are essentially constant shout outs to ourselves. And who doesn't like a shout out? During my long, often thankless days gazing at the feeble beacon of my laptop screen, I must admit to the simple pleasure of digital attention. Instant messages. Blog comments. Facebook posts. All these notifications have become a meaningfully meaningless part of daily monotony - a sugar rush, sweet and fleeting.
When I first joined Twitter, I had the odd realization that communication had evolved away from the need for an exchange of information. The back and forth of dialogue was, finally, obsolete. Twitter didn't even pretend to be about adding friends, or making connections - instead it encouraged the one-sided wonder of following people. And as I decided who I should follow, I started thinking about what music would follow me. There aren't any songs specifically about Twitter, of course. No band has gone down that questionable path yet - though no doubt we'll eventually hear ditties about twenty-word errors ups and falling in love one status update at a time.
But plenty of songs are still topical. Take the famed Led Zeppelin song "Communication Breakdown," which has a fairly straightforward message:Hey babe, I got something I think you oughta know
Hey babe, I wanna tell you that I love you so. Indeed, that could easily fit into the short sentences of our digital age. But even in its simplicity there's a breakdown going on. Someone isn't getting that message, even though he's sending it loud and clear. This makes sense: we may be tech-savvy, but we will always be life-sloppy. As an advertising copywriter, I can compress complicated client briefs into headlines, long-winded arguments into pithy emails, and life into blog posts. But when it comes to getting emotion across in real-time, I go strangely mute. And though I have at least ten different ways of getting in touch, I always remain just out of reach.
I suppose to combat my inherent aloofness, I could take a page from Amadou and Mariam's book. In "I Follow You," the pretense of casual contact is completely discarded in favor of vocalizing unabashed determination.When you go to school, baby I follow you
When you go to work, baby I follow you
When you go downtown, baby I follow you
I think of you every day, every night
I think of you everytime, everywhere The word "follow" is a bit uneasy; it suggests a shadowy presence lurking a few steps behind. And yet, somehow this song takes that notion, and injects it with such earnest sentimentality, that there isn't anything disturbing in the urgency of the lyrics. The same is true of Twitter, hopefully: "following" and even "stalking" are common Internet verbs, stripped of their threat because they're kept apart from reality.
Which suits me just fine. I would never really want to admit to my surreptitious interest in those I follow online. I mean, if I were to be more vocal in my longings, what of my pride and reputation? Turns out modern gratification still goes hand in hand with good old-fashioned fear of rejection. After all, what happens if no one responds? If you write something on the Internet, and no one acknowledges it, does it even make a sound? It seems safer not to try. In the end, it's almost a relief to sink back into the anonymity of an online world where no one pays enough attention to know how much attention you're paying. In "Too Many Birds," Bill Callahan nails the wistful comfort of this technological wasteland:Too many birds in one tree
With no place to land It's true. We are all too many lonely souls flapping about aimlessly together on one site or another. All just looking for a place to land, a stand to take, or maybe just a place to be noticed and go unnoticed at the same time. I'm not sure if I'll ever really take to Twitter. Its staccato impermanence doesn't do enough for me--even my short attention span longs for something a little longer. Plus, the hope it peddles is mostly false. Twitter might change the way we communicate slightly, but the glorious insecurities of life and love will always be more than 140 characters or less can possibly capture.
Note: This post represents approximately 35 Tweets.Labels: madeleine, rock and roll
posted by mad
LINK |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
