Spotify: “King of the Cloud”, or a court jester in training?

(Originally posted on "Return to the Pessimist's Commode" on July 17th, 2011)



I’m enjoying my time in the cloud; it’s a place where virtually every popular song, every popular album that’s been digitized within the past decade has been archived for the consumer’s immediate consumption. There are dangers, yes, but the potential for this technology far outstrips any concerns that I may have regarding the ability of the “tastemakers” of our world to control various aspects of popular culture.


One such forerunner in the race to prove the sheer dominance of the “Singularity” is the Swedish-based, music-oriented cloud service “Spotify”. Recently making its debut in the U.S. after accumulating great success across the pond, I was fortunate enough to acquire an invitation this past week and sample its wares; what I came away with is a peculiar mixture of lofty enthusiasm and adverse disappointment.


Invitations (limited, “free” trials of the service) can be acquired via the official website of the service, usually taking anywhere between a few days to a week to arrive, depending on the volume of those requesting a sneak peek. Once in, you have the option of opting in to one of three services, two of which are available to the general public as of currently: “Free”, which allows users up to ten listening hours a month with limited streaming capabilities; “Unlimited”, granting consumers with unlimited access to albums — so long as they remain relegated to desktop streaming — and finally, “Premium”, which is the pièce de résistance of the service: unlimited streaming, along with mobile integration.

There are, however, a few qualms: unless you’ve a consistent wireless signal and stellar internet service, you may find that this supposed perk is not really worth your while, as there are constant stream interruptions and the quality of sound isn’t exactly parallel to that experienced via the desktop client. One of my main sources of musical consumption is my iPod touch, and not being able to have a smooth and discrepancy-free session with the mobile “Spotify” application left me feeling a tad high and dry, particularly having purchased a “Premium” account for ten dollars a month.


Still, the “Spotify” experience improves a great deal when you’re listening on a PC or Mac. The interface closely mirrors that of Apple’s ubiquitous iTunes: playlists are displayed in a simple-yet-intuitive fashion, and the user has ultimate access to the entirety of his/her collection at the drop of a hat. Playlists are compiled seamlessly — drag-and-drop — and can be comprised of both native (files stored on hard drives) and online tracks, without so much of a hint of latency. I did notice an occasional drop in stream quality, especially with more popular tracks, but I’d assume this was due to increased server traffic above all else.


One perk that I did find quite useful was “Premium” users’ ability to store files on their hard drive(s) for immediate offline access. The process is simple and straightforward, requiring only that the user “star” or favorite the desired track/album and subsequently right-click to save. Though I haven’t downloaded many tracks to my computer as of yet, I thoroughly enjoyed the amazing quality and hope that future iterations of both the mobile and desktop clients allow for an even more streamlined integration of the offline and online experience.


There are countless tracks available to users immediately after obtaining a “Spotify” account, but some of the more obscure acts in music are grossly underrepresented. Sure, I dig early R.E.M as much as the next man, but what about fellow Augusta luminaries Dreams So Real? Aretha’s nice, but I especially admire Tata Vega and Doris Duke. Suffice it to say, I was a bit put off by this unfortunate dearth of lesser-known artists, but if “Spotify” can expand their library over the course of the next year, perhaps my opinion will change. As of now, I find “Rhapsody” and “Slacker” to be leaps and bounds ahead in this department, which is a shame as I prefer “Spotify“‘s far superior (and familiar) interface over the aforementioned sites. I don’t know if this is due to licensing issues or what the issue may be, but again, it’s maddening.


With Apple’s cloud service to begin rolling out to consumers this autumn, it’s difficult to predict who will be the king of the hill as far as online music streaming goes, but if “Spotify” can work out the few software and server kinks, not to mention expand upon its already vast library of artists, it could prove a worthy contender. For the time being, it’s a valiant effort, but nowhere near royalty.

Freebies Galore!

In a rare bout of shameless self-promotion, I figured I'd take a moment out of my oh-so-eventful day (this statement is made without the slightest inkling of sarcasm....*ahem*) and hawk some of my wares. They're not for sale, per se, but I'd very much appreciate it if you, good readers, would take some time to give them a gander when time permits.

What I present to you are two EPs that I cut over the course of two months on an iPad without so much as a hint of how to record a professional-sounding album; luckily for me, "GarageBand" is such an intuitive and easy-to-use program that I was up and running within a matter of minutes. These collections of songs and sound experimentation are in no way of the highest caliber, but I feel compelled to share them with the world.

That said, I'll post a link to both projects. The best part? They're both available to any and all interested parties, free of charge. Everyone loves something for nothing, right?

The EPs are available here: http://quietsundaylibrary.bandcamp.com/

Happy hoarding!

Darwin's Theory (1978)

In much the same vein as Kenny Dope’s Kay-Dee label’s recent “Mellow Madness” release, “Darwin’s Theory” is a slick-but-organic hearkening back to the embryonic days of what’s come to be known as “Rare Groove” and “Boogie”. Chock full of fast-paced dance groovers, this collection of tunes didn’t see the light of day until it was “rescued” from the hands of its owner, session guitarist and pastor Darwin Jones, most notable for his work with the likes of Sly Stone and Ike Turner.

The story of “Darwin’s Theory” begins in the mid-western, metropolitan purgatory of Tulsa, OK. Looking to branch out from his musical stasis, Darwin Jones set forth west to seek fame, fortune and a change of scenery. Eventually, as most young, impressionable youth do, he wound up in Los Angeles, doing odd jobs and landing sessions with the aforementioned luminaries. He left such an impression on Mr. Stone and his engineer that, surprisingly, he was given the keys to the proverbial kingdom — Sly’s then state-of-the-art recording studio located within his residence. Jones wasted no time assembling a band comprised of old Tulsa compatriots and ex-bandmates and set forth to record, in my estimation, one of the best unknown dance LPs in existence.

Recorded throughout the course of late 1977/early 1978, “Darwin’s Theory” effectively bridges the gap from discotheque to modern soul. An equal assortment of ballads and up-tempo floor-fillers, which was typical of the period, there’s very little in the way of innovation. Still, what this collection of recordings lacks in ambition it more than makes up for in spirited fun, and cuts such as “Keep On Smiling”, “If You Dance Tonight” and “Funky Sounds” will see to it that even the most vehemently anti-disco contingency is stomping its feet and snapping its fingers. The sole single to see release prior to the issuing of this LP on Lotus Land some thirty-three years later, “Accept the Truth”, is a slow-burning, mellow groover, replete with the excessive flourishes indicative of its era: lush string arrangements, a bubbly, complex bassline and wailing, slightly off-kilter vocals that recall the Wonder-esque croon of notorious soul act Wee’s equally controversial frontman Norman Whiteside.

“Darwin’s Theory” is a great documentation of an era steeped in decadence and debauchery, but not without its fair share of artistic indulgence and creativity. Though this album isn’t as ambitious in its scope as Wee’s “You Can Fly On My Aeroplane”, it’s just as interesting if not for the underlying theme of one man’s quest to break away from his humble, constricting beginnings and forge an attempt to leave a lasting musical legacy. That legacy never came to pass, but this intriguing artifact is worthy of several spins nonetheless. 

My verdict: ****


"Keep On Smiling"

"If You Dance Tonight"

Purchase the album in its entirety.