Decorated time and the death of the album

Losing my love of music

Back in 2021/22 I almost completely stopped voluntarily listening to music. Not out of protest or as some kind of mindfulness practice, but because the sheer amount of music available to me, combined with my mental health at the time (like a lot of people, the post Covid years were dark ones), meant that I couldn’t listen to a song all the way through without skipping it. It was compulsive. Even songs I liked didn’t make it all the way through to the end. Out of frustration I just quit completely, turning to podcasts, audiobooks and long, obsessive YouTube deep dives - anything to fill the airwaves. Again, this wasn’t really a conscious decision. I just knew that listening to music was stressing me out, which is the opposite effect I was looking for. 

Now, don’t get me wrong, I LOVE a YouTube deep dive. Especially anything related to pop-culture or a rogue conspiracy theory. This was also a new interest of mine at the time, and I felt satisfied by that form of content consumption for a while. I now have many interesting facts about why (allegedly) so many of the Nickelodeon stars went off the rails, and now I know the names of all of the Kardashians (even Rob) - I also have many slightly unhinged theories and tales about what might be lurking in the deep sea.

The guilty player: the playlist

Being an older member of Gen-Z, I remember a time before Spotify, when I had a handful of CDs that I would listen to on repeat. My taste in music at 10 years old was fairly eclectic, despite my limited choice: Linkin Park, Emeli Sande, Blondie, The Script. I loved David Bowie like my mum… oh and any song from the NOW 72 CD (if you know you know). My dad, being a music lover, would burn me CD mixes for every birthday, giving me a taste of curatorial freedom.

Following this, there was a brief amount of playlist experimentation when I got my first iPod (the 2nd generation Nano), but this was pretty limited to the songs I already knew and loved.

I remember hearing about Spotify for the first time and being jealous of my friends who had subscriptions. I finally committed to the £5.99 monthly student subscription around the age of 16. This is where things went downhill. At that point I pretty much abandoned albums altogether, exclusively listening to and discovering new music in playlist form. I stopped viewing artists as individual creators, and instead would mix them into my music soup. Curating playlists was a way of expressing myself, as it is for many people, creating soundscapes based on mood, activity or genre. I did discover a lot of artists this way, and although Spotify has become the antagonist of modern musicians, and overall bad guy in the global and political landscape, a lot of the musicians I love today I found through Spotify suggestions or other people’s playlists.

Over time though, the unlimited choices led to - you guessed it - decision fatigue. No song was right, no sound was exactly what I wanted to listen to. My love for music died a slow and tragic death. 

Deep-dives, audio-books and the disappearance of decorated time

Now, as I mentioned earlier, my ears weren’t completely abandoned by sound. Instead of skipping through hundreds of songs every day, I turned to other things to fill the void. Hello conspiracy podcasts, true crime, pop culture and YouTube docs on all the creepy crawly things that exist in our world. If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that if there’s something to know, I want to know it. 

I spent the next year or so watching and listening to anything and everything that would give me a new fact or piece of gossip to share with my friends the next time I saw them. Who’s dating who; did we REALLY land on the moon; and WHAT’S THE DEAL with that giant squid that has only been captured on camera twice. I consumed a lot. Mostly passively, occasionally giving it my full attention. 

Dipping my toe back into the world of music

By the time 2023 came around I was planning a big trip abroad. Four months in Asia after getting a degree during the pandemic and then spending the next year working as a swimming instructor to save up money. This was my way back in, and it was welcomed. A few months before leaving I came across a really interesting quote by Jean-Michel Basquiat:

"Art is how we decorate space, music is how we decorate time" 

I can honestly say this idea changed everything for me. I realised that songs I listened to 10 years before would bring me right back to the time and place where I heard it; and that all the time I had spent avoiding music had turned into a sort of memory mush. 

There are a number of studies that explore this concept. Research shows that music is one of the strongest triggers for auto-biographical memories, and actually conjures memories with much more detail than visual cues (looking at a photo of someone’s face for example). I’m sure a lot of you have seen videos of people living with dementia appearing to come back to themselves when the right song is played. 

This insight meant that my trip was painted with sounds that still, 3 years later, take me back to that spot. That and the fact that driving a bike along the coast of a Thai Island, listening to Nia Archives’ ‘Baianá’, is a MUCH better vibe than hearing someone yap on about something I definitely won’t remember in a week's time.

Bring back the album

After coming back from my travels, I got a job in a record shop in Glasgow, Some Great Reward. This was the final nail in the coffin, and has changed the way I listen to music for good. Now, although records are making somewhat of a comeback with the younger generation, I didn’t start my record collection until I got this job. 

I grew up around a lot of music and records. My dad, who was a DJ in his teens and 20s, has a record collection too big to count, but never pushed this onto me. Understandably, it’s not the same thing it once was. Records aren’t the most practical way of listening to music, and compared to a £10 monthly subscription to Spotify, Apple or Tidal, they aren’t cheap. It wasn’t really something I had ever considered. 

Working at SGR though, I gained a new found appreciation for vinyl. Today it’s one of the only meaningful ways you can financially support artists, especially independent artists, alongside other merch, Bandcamp buys and gigs. I have a lot of friends who make music full-time, and the amount made off streaming platforms is seriously offensive. If you have the cash to support them, and have a record or CD player, it really is the way to go.

One of the special things about listening to a record is that you can’t just skip tracks with a button. You have to experience the music as intended by the artist. Front to back, specially curated with intention. Even newer artists have tried to push back against singles and playlisting. In 2024, Billie Eilish released Hit Me Hard and Soft, without any singles in the lead up to the release:

 “I don’t like singles from albums. Every single time an artist I love puts out a single without the context of the album, I’m just already prone to hating on it. I really don’t like when things are out of context.”

For the first time in over 10 years I began listening to albums as bodies of work, instead of isolating my favourite tracks and surrounding them with other artists and songs I myself deemed appropriate. Now, of course I don’t buy the vinyl version of every album I listen to; I’m not made of money (and until very recently I didn't even own my own record player). But when I discover a song I like out in the ether, I make a conscious effort to seek out its home, EP or Album. In turn, listening to music has become a much more intentional experience. If it’s something I really love, I’ll save up and head back to SGR to pick up the hard copy.

Final Thoughts

Since I started this journey, I really do believe the phases of my life are carved out much more clearly. I remember discovering Chappel Roan and falling in love with her most recent album ‘The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess” in the lead up to my 25th birthday. Playing it so much that my friend bought me the vinyl as a gift (thank you David). This got me back into pop music after a number of years of rejecting it (sometimes it is nice just to be ‘one of the girls’).

I remember when Doechii dropped her album ‘Alligator Bites Never Heal’, listening with my friends and trying (and failing) to learn the lyrics. Later we saw her play at Glastonbury and were all pretty starstruck.

Then last year, one of my best friends, Pippa Blundell, released her first album, ‘Common Thread’. I remember the first time she played it to all our friends on holiday in Spain. At least seven of us crammed on the day bed outside, giving our full attention to this new thing she was bringing into the world. (You should definitely check it out and of course, listen to the full album - even better if you buy it on Bandcamp, Vinyl or CD to put your money straight in the artist's pocket where it belongs).

I remember listening to Outerstate by Kessoncoda with my dad and discovering from the sleeve notes that the cellist playing had actually taught my brother in school. 

I know exactly where I was when Bad Bunny released DTMF. I listened to it back to front in my bathroom thinking ‘how convenient that this has come out right when I’m trying to learn Spanish’ - only later did I realise that Bad Bunny is NOT a recommended artist to help you with your Spanish, not as a beginner anyway.

For most of the songs I love, I remember exactly where I was when I first heard it, or at least it has a few significant memories attached to it. Laying on a beach listening to Arc De Soleil; hearing Cain Culto’s song KFC Santeria and then falling in love with his entire discography while waiting for a train, especially his EP, Ordination I. 

As I’m writing this, I’m listening to the album Embers by God Is An Astronaut, on my new record player that was handed down to me, and my new hi-fi, also a hand-me-down. I can’t listen to this album without thinking about my final week working at SGR, back in 2024, when I took a copy home for myself after being completely taken with it. Having played it on repeat in those last days, I feel a weird sentimentality to it that goes beyond the music itself. 

If you take anything away from this, it's that music really does decorate time, and it’s completely up to you how you want to style it. But however you spend your time, make sure you decorate it with your favourite sounds. You’ll be grateful for it one day.

References

Belfi AM, Karlan B, Tranel D. Music evokes vivid autobiographical memories. Memory. 2016 Aug;24(7) Epub 2015 Aug 10

Music Mentioned:

Albums

Linkin Park - Meteora - 2003

Emeli Sandé - Our Version of Events - 2012

Blondie - Parallel Lines - 1978

The Script - Science & Faith - 2010

David Bowie - Hunky Dory - 1971

Now 72 / Now That’s What I Call Music 72 - Various Artists - 2009

Billie Eilish - Hit Me Hard and Soft - 2024

Chappel Roan - The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess - 2023

Doechii - Alligator Bites Never Heal - 2024

Pippa Blundell - Common Thread - 2025

Kessoncoda - Outerstate - 2024

Bad Bunny - ‘Debí Tirar Más Fotos’ - 2025

Cain Culto - Ordination I - 2022

Singles

Nia Archives - Baianá - 2022

Arc De Soleil - The Thief in Marrakesh  - 2019 

Cain Culto - KFC Santeria - 2025