So I pick up Incubus’s Science CD last night. They’re a pretty good band, IMO, and I haven’t purchased a CD in a while (had to go pick up the new Sleater Kinney anyway).
Interesting cover.
{Dives Home after purchasing several other CDs}
So I listen to my replacement of Propaghandi: How to Clean Everything. —
—What? Of course I buy replacement CDs. I buy CDs all the time. I like the jacket work, and for the bands that decide they want you to read their lyrics I really enjoy listening to an album and reading along.—
Anyway. Then I pop in the SK album. Nice stuff, but you can tell they’re following the lead the set in their last release (All Hands on the Bad One… delicious, but still no Call the Doctor). I can tell that it, like the last one, is going to grow on me after a few listens to the point where it isn’t even the same music I’m listening to as when I purchased it. Some good music is just like that, you know?
I love music. As much as I appreciate analytic philosophy, reading math posts, and trying hard to make some decent logical arguments on my own, there is nothing quite like the experience of good music. Thankfully, too, or I’d be even more broke from buying all that stuff, too.
Ah, GWAR. Yeah, I had to replace my copy of Scumdogs of the Universe. The tape I had was old and not functional anymore, and I just moved and decided to abandon my cassette player anyway. And I had missed listening to the whining of old Oderus, threatening me with all sorts of sexual and scatalogical behaviors. He’s cool like that.
Well, time to head off to sleep, and we can skip that part—nothing exciting happened, I assure you.
This morning I figure I’d get some work done in my room, so I open the wrapper of the Incubus album and smell the insert… blech. CDs never smell like tapes used to, but still I check anyway… hoping against hopes, perhaps.
I pop it in my computer—did I mention I don’t own a CD player?—and I am greeted by some program that automatically starts running. “Great,” I tell myself, “some stupid ass ‘audio player’ that sucks ass like the one on the Kittie CD Spit.” I close it out right away and open up my dBPowerAmp audio player, a really fanstatic example of the species IMO, and choose “Add Music” to browse to the CD. This option just lets you pick directories and it automatically grabs all the audio files in that folder or in any subfolders. I see the hourglass cursor for a moment, then… nothing.
I open windows explorer and find that it doesn’t recognize this as an audio CD at all.
Well, I rip all my CDs anyway so I can save on space, I got a lot of junk and organized CDs take up a ton of space that I just don’t have, so I rip 'em and pack 'em. So, whatever, I’ll just grab the audio from the speaker feed instead of getting right off the disc. No big deal at all, I think.
So I right-click in Explorer and Autoplay the CD again to get their crappy little player.
“Ah,” I tell myself, “a video.” Kittie had done something similar… cute girls. Good song. So I watch some of this video on an unbelievably small square of my monitor. Song was decent. I exit out of the video and hit the button that tells me is to “Play the CD”.
[click]
{blink}
[click]
{blink}
{{pause}}
[clickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclick]
“FUCKING BULLSHIT”
Well, looks like they finally found a way to protect music: make sure no one can listen to it. What a load of fucking shite.
I’m done with it. Fuck Sony Music: if I see another thing released from them, I ain’t buying it. If anyone has had similar experiences with other companies tell me so I can shit on them, too. Fuck that.
I exchanged the album, with some hassle, for a GetUpKids album. Works like a charm, sounds like music is supposed to: AUDIBLE.
