Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Digital Killed the Radio Star

I may be late to this party, but I'm no less enthusiastic for it. The neatest little program I've found recently is Pandora, which compiles and plays song lists for its user based upon the user's musical preferences. It has been around awhile, but I don't generally listen to music on the computer, so I haven't used it until recently. What makes it truly a killer app is that it is now available for free for the iPhone, the magical little iPod/phone/computer on-the-go. Now I can listen to a semi-random set of songs during my commute that includes music that goes outside my own collection.

(I have spared the world my feelings about the iPhone even though I have had one for a while. Giddiness doesn't translate well to the computer screen.)

I don't know how they manage the rights, but it is the best little radio station ever.

Starting with Toad the Wet Sprocket, in half an hour Pandora has given me the Gin Blossoms, Counting Crows, Jack Johnson, Matt Nathanson, Coldplay and R.E.M. It's everything "sensitive college guy" needs! Of course, this musical suite is accompanied by a complementary set of "we shouldn't date, I wouldn't want to mess up our friendship, y'know?" tokens that are mysteriously distributed to all pretty college girls, who inevitably cash them in while happily having a study session so they can see sensitive college guy's meticulously crafted class notes.

Thankfully, once upon a time I found one pretty college girl who decided not to cash in that chip.

2 comments:

Meg said...

Awwwwwwww!

And, DUDE, you're late on that whole Pandora thing. I've been using it for at least a year! Since when do I beat you on anything having to do with music?

Dave said...

I was thinking of you when I admitted to being slow to pick up on Pandora. I think you have had a link to it for a lot longer than a year, though.

There is a lot having to do with the new technology of music that has left me in the dust. I still buy CDs, at the dizzing rate of about two per year. Nobody makes good music anymore, anyhow. {/grumpy old man}.