As we press forward, always on and toward the future, looking to what is ahead and unknown to solve today’s puzzles, we often forget to remember the past and things that were before; things that might not be searchable via Google. I was reminded of this idea twice this week: how the internet has spawned into an ultimate, multi-faceted reference source that has essentially triggered the foreclosure of the print publishing industry.
The first was a post from a blog called Victorian Horror that talks about our new album. The author, Victoria, says: “Aww, the Dears. I stumbled upon them about four years ago when I first moved to Chicago. I was on one of my CD buying sprees where I trusted the blurb at the record store, or just bought it unheard based on the 4-star “Q Magazine” rating on the sticker. Those were the days, when discovering new music came with a risk….the prospect that you may have just laid down $16.00 for a crap album! This was before I had bought my computer of course…a more innocent time!”
And the second: One Man’s Quest to Digitize and Publicize Rare Records, 78 by 78, tells the story of recordings on their way to being “lost” forever: record labels that don’t exist potentially may not care to digitize old masters. Masters that tell of a culture that once existed, proliferated, and dictated in certain ways how we think, interact and appreciate music today.
The past inhibiting the future and the future inhibiting the past. Which do we preserve? Which informs our lives in a more meaningful – though minute – way?