That “Malwebolence” article: The original article; at least 1, 2, 3 seemingly authentic 4chan-member comments on a NYT blog post about the article; NYT’s blog-response-tracking page for the article; 1, 2 Gawker posts about the article; author Mattathias Schwartz’s response to some responses; and a final analysis on The NYT blog “The Medium.”

Beatles musicology.

West Virginia speaks out about Obama: “I don’t like the ‘Hussein’ thing. I’ve had enough of ‘Hussein.’”

Adbusters tries to be insightful about hipsters; people respond.

A day in brands. It looks like she has a pretty good life?

Somebody at Comedy Central reads Kate Beaton?

USS - a portfolio of probabilities. Incidentally used for the cover of a Danava album.

A modest proposal for something we might come to call “Cascading Style Sheets.”

Baby car logos.

The importance of smell.

Contemporary stars mimic classic Hitchcock moments.

I’ve also noticed this Google Reader favicon showing up momentarily as the site loads, though only in Opera. It resembles the large logo on the official Google Reader blog, and I can’t figure out what’s causing it — what is it that Opera is loading before the stylesheet tells it to look elsewhere?

This already exists in the form of a third-party plugin, which I’ve actually used successfully before on another blog. I’ve always found upgrading manually to be easy and problem-free, though incredibly tedious. Because I don’t use many plugins or alter any core WordPress files, I think automating the process will be a safe option for me, one that I’ll trust more in the hands of the core development team. Still, I’m sure I’ll wait till it’s been thoroughly tested in a couple versions before using it on this site.

More than that, I think we derived a certain satisfaction from its impossibility. It’s a daily occurrence to watch your cherished bands get snatched up by the popular media, and this photo was a reminder that some of our enthusiasms are very, very safe.

I first spotted it on the WFMU blog (“I can’t imagine Paris getting more than a few bars into Frown Land before ripping it out of her CD player and throwing it out of her window at some homeless person”), but they of course got it from Gawker (“That is truly a cultural juxtaposition”), who got it from goldenfiddle.

Then when I ran across this image of her holding In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, I had to find the original photos that were manipulated. Finally, I did! Here, here, here, and here. There’s even a thread about it on Snopes.


 

I only wish I knew where it originally appeared. Since goldenfiddle is the oldest reference to it I can find, I blame them for not citing their sources.

And don’t forget Banksy’s take on her album.

Blueboy’s Unisex, on the other hand, will probably always remind me of the winter of 2006-7, as I listened to it for the first time that season, nine additional times within that season (racking up about 150 tracks listened, according to Last.fm), and virtually never again once spring hit.

Ever since I began submitting listening data to Last.fm in November of 2004, I’ve wondered whether I’d ever enjoy direct access to all those numbers. Then came Last.fm Extra Stats, mercifully collecting all my listening data for me in a tab-separated file that can be pulled into Excel and manipulated to my heart’s content. Here, as a small example of the data, are my top ten artists (by tracks listened) from winter 2006-7, along with total listens for each artist (since November 2004) (now that I’m finally getting around to publishing this post, all the following data is very old):

Now for some methodology. We only have two numbers available to us here; let’s call them S (seasonal total) and T (total total). As I said, the psychological impact of a band/record over a given time period depends on both the amount of listening during that period (S) and the percentage of total listening within that period (S/T). Neither figure is good enough on its own; I may have listened to Destroyer 102 times this summer (I did), but that’s insignificant given my 1,500 overall listens. And I may have only listened to The Ladybug Transistor this summer (yielding a 100% concentration), but 3 listens is hardly enough to make an impact.

But, since both figures are positive indicators of impact, we can just multiply them (S²/T). This would give Ladybug Transistor a summer 2007 impact index of 3, and Destroyer, 6.92.

Let’s see how this multiplication affects winter’s top ten artists by tracks played:

Most notably, Ratatat is knocked down a few notches (on account of how consistently I listen to them), The Moldy Peaches go up a few spots — and if we reorder the entire list (of 78 artists) by impact index, a couple more eke into the top ten:

This last table is what we’re really after, theoretically giving us the ten artists who will most strongly remind me of the winter of 2006-7. It seems a bit boring at this point, since it’s pretty close in its results to the standard top-ten-by-listens chart; but the methodology is sound, and under more extreme listening conditions (e.g., a Destroyer obsession), it will prove to be a reliable indicator of impact.

And don’t forget, as time passes and I listen to these artists more, their season-specific impacts will drop. For instance, as things turned out, I listened to Television Personalities heavily over the spring, increasing their T value, and reducing their impact in the above table (which uses old data). As a result of my TVP spring listening, their winter index dropped dramatically from 35 to 7.95 — their spring index, as of October 5, 2007, is 91.95.

Depicting this analysis visually could go several ways; somehow I want to see a pie chart. Making one from every artist would be impractical, leaving a circle with a hundred or more slivers. Taking the top ten artists feels insensitive to the quirks of any given season; what if I don’t even listen to ten artists that season, for instance? What if I listen to a thousand? I could select only those artists who have indices greater than, say, 20; but this also feels arbitrary and vulnerable to seasonal quirks.

I think a pretty safe threshold above which to choose artists is at 50% of the sum of all impact values. In other words: the sum of the impact indices of winter’s artists is 783. If I take artists off the top of the list until I have half that, I stop after the fourth artist, The Moldy Peaches. Admittedly, a four-sector pie chart is kinda dull, but I need to be consistent in the creation of these charts so that impacts are accurately represented from season to season.

So, roughly…here are what the last three seasons of 2007 “meant” to me:

What I like about these is that they are not only internally consistent, but consistent with each other; Ariel Pink will remind me of the spring of 2007 more than M.I.A. will remind me of the summer, as represented by a larger sector in his season’s pie. I could similarly generate these with a focus on albums, which would be slightly more specific and alter the results dramatically. I know, for instance, that all my summer 2007 listening to M.I.A. was off her new record, songs that necessarily didn’t contribute to any prior M.I.A. listening — so, Kala, were it to have a sector in an album pie, would have one much larger than the less specific “M.I.A.” one.

Granted, there are more than a few problems with this whole endeavor, and here are the major three:

1. Last.fm does not track things that I listen to on CD/vinyl. This is a serious problem, as the things I purchase tend to be the things I like the most, and go totally unaccounted for.
2. The number of tracks you’ve listened to by an artist is only kind of related to how much time you’ve spent listening to them. 4 tracks can fill 2 CDs (Lift Your Skinny Fists), or you can cram 91 tracks into 40 minutes of music (Irrevocably Overdriven).
3. iPod listens are not properly documented. Even if I remember to report them to Last.fm with AudioPod, multiple listens on a single track only get counted as one — this is particularly damaging on long trips, for instance.

The (S²/T) formula may have further applications, as I’ll touch on in a follow-up to my original post about alphabetization and digital music library navigation.

I write my usual contact and ask if I can make it onto the guest list. That’ll only get me two spots. I go on Craigslist and see that some tickets are going for $150 apiece. I email several people who are pricing them more reasonably, and through a rapid succession of replies establish that I’m to pay $150 for two, in Washington Square, at 7pm. “Let me know if anything changes, please!”, he says. Exclamation point.

In the meantime I haven’t heard back from my colleague about the guest list, when out of nowhere arrives an email from Robbie, who manages promotions for one of the openers and can get me on their list. So, that’s it then, right?, two plus two is four. Unfortunately I don’t have the phone number for the guy I’m meeting in Washington Square, and I haven’t heard from him in hours. So I just have to arrive there at 7 on faith that he’ll, I dunno, be like standing on the corner waving two tickets over his head? Just as we’re about to hop into a cab to go meet him, he emails: “Hey man, I had to get rid of them earlier b/c I am about to leave town. I’m sorry for the late short notice.”

So, fuck, I run back onto Craigslist and find another pair going for $150, I email the guy offering him $170, he agrees, we’re to meet outside The Paradise at 8.

Get there, not on the list, opener doesn’t have a list, make some calls, pay the guy (+$10 for luck), get some calls, drink some beers, wait, wait, plead, fib, wait, get some calls, shit. No guest list. Shit. Sell the tickets at an $80 loss.

Ride despondently down to PA’s where, rather than drowning in hipsters and seeing a middling band at a sold-out show sponsored by WFNX, we see Vialka, who are incredible.

Weeks are flying. I have to stop and remind myself that the summer is technically only a third complete. I am wasting my time drinking sparkling-grapefruit-juice-based cocktails, riding my bike places to buy more sparkling grapefruit juice, and reading a lot about Ghost Box. The label had a feature article in an old copy of The Wire magazine that I once bought because it had Joanna Newsom on the cover. I think I threw it out in March, just before I moved, so I had to order another copy, as well as spend as much as I could afford on the Ghost Box releases most likely to go out of print next. I envy this guy:

I hope that when I turn 30 my taste in music doesn’t become depressingly banal. It probably will. Self-described geek bloggers/Mac disciples always gravitate towards the most inoffensive “indie rock” there is.

Ugh, and I hope I never ever turn into a “witty blogger,” that demographic makes me nauseous, one of those Hold Steady-listening, Colbert-worshipping, Pixar-loving, Guitar Hero-boasting, identity-cultivating, opinion-spewing, lowbrow-championing, tweet-twittering, Kottke-wannabeing, Peter Pan complex-having man-children who are only capable of making cheekily self-deprecating jokes about their own narcissism and who like name their iPhones and shit and say “FTW” and “[adj.]. [noun]. Ever” and “the Intertubes,” circle-jerking all over the blogosphere OH MAN DIE.

It’s like this anonymity through adopting a singular voice, that same tone, those same interests; half the blogs on Technorati, it’s that same picture-in-the-corner, “The personal weblog of,” “Random thoughts from a geeky guy,” everybody wants to need a soapbox but nobody needs one. I’m guilty of it too because it infects you, that tone, cadence, inflection, the way you write when you know anybody might be reading what you write, the suffocating stiltedness of it. Your audience isn’t your friends, and it isn’t the populace at large, so it’s this midpoint between the personal and the impersonal, with that safe, dry humor that just makes you look like a twat. Being proud of every nuance of the personality you’re trying to manufacture through associations with pop-culture signifiers. Somebody please know what I’m talking about. From now on I promise to be absolutely humorless, so there are you happy.

Last night, for instance, I was in Paris with my brother, and we were both preparing to fly back to the US. He returned a day before I did, and when it was my time to leave, I found that I had simply far too much stuff to pack before my flight, piles of boxes littering the house I’d been staying in. It was more like moving.

Other times, that large house is featured prominently. I wander through it aimlessly; it is usually very late at night, almost dawn. People are scattered among the rooms, sometimes sleeping, sometimes sitting in cramped, winding staircases, and there are large, semi-circular balconies that look down upon spacious foyers.

The subways are complex, oblique, and almost ride-like, similar to the Downtown Crossing T stop. The villains are faceless and their threats are vague.

It’s just new to me to keep revisiting the same fictional places.

Summer drink: two ice cubes, vodka, sparkling grapefruit juice, splash of cranberry. It’s pink.

Advantages of sorted lists include:

• one can easily find the first n elements (e.g. the 5 smallest countries) and the last n elements (e.g. the 3 largest countries)
• one can easily find the elements in a given range (e.g. countries with an area between .. and .. square km)
• one can easily search for an element, and conclude whether it is in the list

The first two advantages are things you almost never need to do with music libraries. And the third has been supplanted by now-ubiquitous search boxes: if you know what you’re looking for, you search; and if you don’t, an alphabetized list is not the way to find it.

Web visionary Ted Nelson (<mst3k>Dr. Ted Nelson?</mst3k>) has been paraphrased as pointing out that “electronic documents have been designed to mimic their paper antecedents,” and that “this is where everything went wrong: electronic documents could and should behave entirely differently from paper ones.” If the folder metaphor is inadequate for digital documents, no wonder it’s so pitiful at handling music. The proximity between pieces of music in a library should least of all be based on the first letter in a band’s name — it’s as arbitrary as sorting them by the vocalist’s month of birth — yet this is how it’s universally done.

Music library organization needs to be re-thought from the ground up. We need to consider how it is that people used to listen to music before it was all on their iTunes. How are your CDs organized (or disorganized) on your shelf? How are they organized in your head? What is it that prompts you to listen to what you listen to when you listen to it? And how can we use computers to adopt and enhance these ways of thinking, rather than forcing us to think like computers?

The most natural method for organizing music (if you can escape alphabetical thinking for a moment) is by similarity. Last.fm does this, and it is invaluable. When you are at an artist’s page at Last.fm, you feel that you are in that artist’s “neighborhood,” with links to similar bands, tags, listeners, and related groups. The Last.fm architecture was designed to manifest organic, bottom-up communities around bands and genres. This is an experience that cannot currently be replicated in any music player, at least not easily (with the possible exception of Amarok). But because Last.fm’s data is extraordinarily accessible, there are virtually no obstacles to incorporating this sense of “musical neighborhoods” into a piece of software.

If you don’t already have an artist in mind whose neighborhood you’d like to browse, you probably at least have some idea of the kind of mood you’re after, and there are several approaches here. One (perhaps the least viable) is using Last.fm’s tags. These are actually less often concerned with mood than they are with genre, a taxonomy well-known as being inconsistent and, I would argue, misguided: When I want to listen to Lullatone, it’s not because I want to listen to electronic music; it’s because I want to listen to “whimsical,” “delicate,” “innocent,” “sparkling” music. Who cares what genre it is?

AllMediaGuide began a project called Tapestry some time ago, an application of their vast mood/situation/genre dataset. It is an ideal solution for browsing music, and its integration into desktop software would be hugely rewarding. It’s possible to simulate Tapestry with foobar2000 and some elbow grease, but the results are not as robust as they could be.

Again, if you already know what you’re looking for, it would be difficult to find it through these channels; but this is what search is for.

We also need to consider the less objective and more personal reasons that music becomes relevant in specific contexts, analogously to the way in which CDs become disordered on one’s shelf. I, for instance, usually have about 20 albums littering the top of my receiver and speakers. These include, roughly, (a) stuff I just bought, (b) stuff I just listened to, and (c) stuff I haven’t bothered putting away because I know I’ll listen to it again soon.

The main obstacle to browsing in this way is a prevalent shortcoming whose symptoms are far-reaching: the fact that music players “think” in terms of songs, not in terms of albums — or even in terms of artists, for that matter: My music software doesn’t know that these 38 songs are all by Electrelane; it just knows that their artist metadata is alphabetically adjacent. Sure, you can sort iTunes libraries by data such as “last listened” and “added”; and you can use CoverFlow to simulate a pale approximation of a flesh-and-blood record collection; but the only way you can sort albums or artists is alphabetically. I’ve written about the ways in which MP3Toys addresses this problem, and it remains a commendable pioneer in music management, but its difficulties (a steep learning curve, a buggy interface, a rapid release schedule) outweigh its advantages.

Browsing your own music library is a very impersonal experience, despite enormous potential for personalization. Rich info visualization “toys” such as Last.fm Extra Stats and LastGraph are seen as novelties, but would, in fact, be revolutionary as library browsing environments. There is nothing to prevent this from development, either; even users who are not plugged into Last.fm could have their listening history stored locally by their music software, which could then be used to generate small, cached, infinite-resolution SVG histograms, browsable by zooming, panning, and clicking. Far from being cumbersome and CPU-intensive, it would actually be rather elegant.

Continuing on the theme of chronology, what about a simple calendar charts view, with varying granularity by day, week, month, quarter? Presentationally, these charts could even be made easily to resemble vertical stacks of CDs, with spine art generated from a cropped cover image and overlaid text. This would arguably be eye-candy, of course, but just imagine how it would “feel” to see your music this way. If there’s one thing Apple’s been consistently right about, it’s that functionality is not at odds with a pleasant user experience, but rather that they are meant to be mutually supportive.

When I was helping to establish some playstamp tagging standards with the foobar community in 2005, it was jokingly suggested that when songs are played they be tagged with the current weather. Despite the sarcasm, I couldn’t help but think, “What a great idea!” I know my listening habits are affected by the weather, and I can’t imagine other people are not the same. There is, after all, a frequently-used “rainy day” tag at Last.fm.

What about a histogram based not on play count, but on hotness values over time? What about artist similarity webs based not on Last.fm data, but on proximity of play times within your personal history? What about taking lessons from the DONTCLICK.IT project, BumpTop, and the pile metaphor for unprecedentedly fluid user interfaces?

All the ingredients are there. Everyone is rapidly moving towards an exclusively digital music collection, and the technology is embarrassingly outmoded. Music has become a major component of computing, at levels once reserved for word processing and gaming. Our relationship with our digital music collections is poised for reinvention, a looming difficulty that has been made invisible by custom and habit. Digital music management is hell, and users have complacently accepted this.

The obvious solution at this point is Songbird. Songbird’s media views (present since 0.5) allow more easily than ever for custom browsing environments. Previously the only way to alter your music browsing environment was to switch programs entirely; besides which, nearly all available programs simply mimic the well-known disk/directory views or iTunes’ browser pane view (which is just a glorification of a disk/directory view anyway). Songbird, on the other hand, boasts an unprecedented extensibility, coupled with media attention, ease-of-use, and the Mozilla platform, for which people have been developing extensions for ages (in computer years).

The prospects are thrilling and the potential for innovation is virtually limitless. Promisingly, there are some glimpses of where things might be headed for Songbird media views: Catalogue View demonstrates a novel visual presentation of your library, though it doesn’t do much in the way of organizational presentation; and Metrics Media Page is the beginnings of the kind of infovis view that could be (but currently isn’t) adapted to allow for actual navigation. Nevertheless, I have a bad feeling that this opportunity will be missed, as the status quo continues to obfuscate these possibilities.