Recently, on seeing a valiant fellow traveller's rewards on the journey thus far, I have thought about the place that time has to play in listening to music. I might be the only one who likes to place a substantial gap between listens to albums, for the simple reason that I feel like it gives the material some chance to percolate. This is done on the back-burner, and I know that it's done when a line or melody comes to me at some odd time, usually with me being completely unable to place the source. I take this to mean that I have somehow subconsciously assimilated the material, and that I am ready for another listen.

Putting this into writing, I realize how strange this must be - even weirder than my principle of listening to entire albums. One unfortunate consequence is that the amount of albums I can say I have listened to is rather small, by all accounts. However, that is a rather banal metric of listening - what is more important, and more interesting, is whether this addition of time is artificial, or whether it does help create some space for the music to grow. I suspect that as always, the answer is wholly dependent on the individual; given my particular wirings, and my past foibles, I am fairly confident that for me the experience is more enriching.

But even so, I cannot fully shake off the ghouls that ask why it is I listen to so little, yet profess to love so much. Part of my struggle with this question is the admittedly juvenile, but somehow resilient equation of volume with "knowledge", or some such vapid notion. The internet* has helped provide some grounding for my suspicion about how anomalous my listening habits must be in this regard. last.fm, for instance, coolly tells me of countless people who in a month listen to as much as I have the past year. Now, who exactly it is I need to prove knoweldge to, I am not sure - is it similar to the obsession that drives collectors in the first place? Why, for instance, do I feel compelled to complete certain parts of my catalogue (aside from borderline OCD, that is - and I do not mean that in an entirely flippant manner)? A natural explanation is the imaginary creation of an uber-critic or collector who watches over the collection as it forms, passing judgement on weak spots that are evident to all. Why this fictional creation should be given any time at all is another matter...

It seems only natural that I should respond to these volume-heavy listeners with a broad dismissal of them not "understanding" or "appreciating" as much as I do, but frankly that's a bit of nonsense. I cannot deny that more than a few of them really do seem to have a deeper knowledge and love than the caricature of this type of listener I'd like to imagine. For them, however, time seems to play little to no place - back to back listens of albums are no problem, whereas for me they are nigh impossible, as the second listen would simply wash over me - I'd hear the same thing I heard the first time. I find I need time to collect my thoughts and feelings before that next listen, in order for it to hit home harder.

So what then is the insecurity that makes me feel as though I ought to be listening as much as these other people? It is, I think, a consequence of me getting a little too caught up in the game. With this sort of attitude, music loses its personal charm and "true meaning", but instead becomes the end of some inane competition. Who listens to the most, who knows the most, who has the most eclectic tastes...all rubbish, really. I am glad that in my calmer moments (I'd count this as one), I'm able to stay true to the motivation for time-separated listens (giving more meaning to something that deserves it), but I do wish that it were able to put a stop to these nagging doubts about inadequacy. It's easy enough to blame the internet for this too, but that doesn't even fool me!

I suppose that like most things when it comes this subject, I am not entirely sure whether my theories are fabrications of my mind, or if I genuinely believe them. Of course, it doesn't matter whether they are or not, but some sort of confidence in my technique would nonetheless be reassuring. It would save you the trouble of wading through such half-baked posts too.

* Ironically enough, I sometimes feel that the internet has provided a mechanism that can sometimes rob the fun out of certain endeavours. I owe virtually everything in my catalogue to the advice of the internet, but I suppose I am also referring to both the ease of information and, of course, the ease of downloading - something I have deliberately avoided out of some potentially archaic (yet, conveniently, legally supported!) set of principles. Like many an old coot before me, there is a pleasure associated with going through some effort in waiting for a CD, finding it and then purchasing it. It is also a very useful way of curbing excessive listening, you know!