All of us have countless digital profiles. Whether they be for our social lives, for the dentist or for dating. Every aspect of modern life requires a profile comprised of varying degrees of personal information. This rapid digitalisation and distillation of our person, and to an extent our personality, is contributing to a loneliness epidemic. This epidemic, which is predominantly gripping those under 30, has worsened in the wake of the covid lockdowns. As a direct and defiant revolt to this, the resurrection of analog music and print media has come to the fore. Physical media’s resurgence can be attributed to the ability it has to advertise our taste en masse, just as much as its perceived higher “quality” over the digital alternative. It is human nature to want others to know what we like, what makes us tick, it’s how we connect. Whether that be through glossy coffee table books on mid-century modernism or bookshelves stacked with foreign-language fiction that we are yet to read (but tell ourselves we have every intention of doing so one day).
Now, this desire for others to know our tastes could reductively be dismissed as shallow vanity. Nothing more than surrounding yourself with pretty, shiny things, in order to impress others. However, it is that attitude that has brought this loneliness epidemic onto us in the first place. The hypocrisy of criticising individuality in an individualistic society is leaving a generation rudderless. Displaying our interests to friends and strangers, is not simply an exercise in showing off. Instead it is an act of attempted connection. Just as someone complimenting your outfit could lead to any number of follow up conversations. Someone noticing that you possess a copy of Architecture and Morality on vinyl, especially when they may not expect that to be up your alley, could open up avenues of conversation that neither party could’ve ever foreseen.
We are privileged to have access to so much music and information in our pockets, but this has also isolated us. We are told that to play music out of speakers in public is obnoxious, and we read books on the screens of our digital Swiss-army knives. Whilst we have our earphones in and are scrolling through words on our phones, there is no way for anyone else to know what we are listening to or reading. Of course I am not naive enough to dismiss the extreme upside that this also affords us, but it is to the detriment of human connection. The further we delve down this digital rabbit-hole, the smaller our palpable social circles become.
Furthermore, on video-lead social media sites. Clips of strangers asking passers by what they are listening to on their phones are extremely popular. This goes to show that we are nosey folk at heart. We want to know more about the lives of strangers, and vice-versa.
Like posters on the wall. The books we read and the artists that dominate our music libraries, are adverts of our taste. Just like tattoos and clothing, media is another avenue of self expression that is visible to others. The digitalisation of this media, this taste, is like vandalising a billboard.
Tangible media is a tool of self expression. Whether it be a physical record collection in the home, or reading a book on a park bench. We allow others to have a sticky beak at what interests us. It leaves the door ajar for conversation, for connection. Yes, people might say that the reason they own physical media is because they prefer the feel of a paper page. Or that they the enjoy warmer sounds of vinyl, but deep down we all know it is because we love to show off. We want people to see us, to meet like minded people that share our interests. And what better way to do that, than to advertise our interests through an alphabetised DVD collection.
