plays well with others.
I will of course begin by wishing everyone a happy Judgment Day. Followed by some lame joke about the wi-fi signal in heaven.
That aside, I’ve been thinking about albums. Collections. Compilations.
Last year’s Kanye album to me is a Thanksgiving weekend road trip. Turning onto the bedazzled Vegas strip as “All of the Lights” begins booming out the subs in Justine’s Aerio and Jordan and I fight over leftover Chipotle chips.
Derek Webb’s “Mockingbird” album brings me back to high school drives to Boca to give guitar lessons, then Coral Springs for volleyball practice. Long stretches of State Road 7 were all I needed for my brain to start mulling over lyrics and what I really thought of Jesus.
There’s something lost when every song is a “single.” The pick-and-choose iTunes world is turning musical albums into a gimmick for hipsters or a lost art for the classically trained.
Sure, there are some songs you don’t like as well as others, but once the super-catchy opening track starts losing its punch, there’s more. Some songs even grow on you.
And the best part is that when you’ve listened enough, you expect the second song to start after the first. It seems funny if it doesn’t. Like something’s been interrupted.
You don’t just read one chapter of a book. You don’t have just one semester of college.
There’s a reason the good and less-good ones are all lumped together, which you might not realize until you come to the end of the whole thing.
I graduate in a week.