Q.E.D.

Now. Let's rip apart the underlying philosophy, shall we? Keller writes,

Many people who don't have the same passion for the mix as I do simply copy entire collections of MP3s to CD or onto their iPod, not caring what order the songs. . . . "On the subways you see people with iPods. They have, what, a thousand songs on them. Ten thousand, even. They stare random-glared into oblivion. [R]obots with shitty music taste and too much money to spend on music-listening hardware and shoes, in that order," is how Sal Tuzzeo Jr., a music writer, describes the phenomenon. Fewer people who are connected to the music they listen to translates into a less critical and picky audience for the crapola that the record companies and radio stations promote. The quality of music overall goes downhill.

Where did I first read this argument? Oh right... Allan Bloom. I bet these tools haven't even read that chapter in "The Closing of the American Mind" where Bloom pukes out endless fatuous theories about the cultural deadness and "masturbatory fantasies" of Demon Rock and Roll, ultimately concluding

As long as [kids these days] have the Walkman on, they cannot hear what the great tradition has to say. And, after its prolonged use, when they take it off, they find they are deaf."

I guess fogies of any age sound alike.

Whatever. Any merit that Keller's lament might have is pretty much invalidated by mistakenly assuming that ooh, just everyone! gets off on music. Untrue: most people use music as a way to decorate the moment without much depth of thought. And that's fine. Pop music is meant to be enjoyed: the obsessions may be safely left to the geeks like Keller, who seems not to realize his geek nature. Sorry to break it to ya this way, Poindexter.

I'm sorry. This article didn't really need a takedown, but it just makes me so...AAAAAUUUURGH! Sorry for wasting your time. I'm going to go listen to an Italian import I bought off the street in England of a show Stevie Ray Vaughn did in Miami Beach in 1982.

[note]Full disclosure: my wife still remembers to remind me of the unfortunate "Funkadelic" incident every time I start a mix. See, I spent three days with editing software trying to finesse a transition between Funkadelic's "(Not Just) Knee Deep" and De La Soul's "Me Myself & I," which used Funkadelic as the bedrock sample. Three days of me playing five seconds of music over and over again, tweaking the crossfade by milliseconds at a time. With no headphones. In a small apartment. Trouble.

Oh yeah, the mix tape isn't dead. It's just gone pro.