Remastered

Over at The New Republic, Michael Crowley writes about the possible demise of the "Rock Snob" - the guy who has dedicated many hours to searching-out and acquiring rare musical gems that he will only share with those special people who deserve to the honor, and who feels a certain smug pity for those uneducated in the details of 70's punk geneology: ex. the High Fidelity guys. Rock Snob is doomed because the sense of exclusivity you could get from knowing you're the only one you know with a copy of The Feelies first album is no longer available: "[t]hanks to the iPod, and digital music generally, anyone can milk various friends, acquaintances, and the Internet to quickly build a glorious 10,000-song collection." And even worse, "...when everything's instantly available online, the thrill is gone."

That's basically true, but as my multi-year search for a digital copy of The Colorblind James Experience's first album proves, not everything is available on line, or even on CD. Even in their hometown, even asking members of the band, even digging through the stacks at the record store where I first bought my casette copy of that album, 15 years ago, no luck. There are still gems out there that require patient excavation.

And, if everything is available for sharing, the Rock Snob can still find joy in pointing to the things people should pay attention to, and what they shouldn't waste disk space on - a self-proclaimed filter. After all, not everyone wil have the specialized knowledge and discriminating taste that he does. Or, even better, he can sit smug and quiet, sharing the knowledge of what's hip with those few who already know: elite, self-satisfied, correct.