A Present from the Music Industry
In the music store where I work, this has been a joyous week. Starting on the 26th, we the employees were able to gaze over all the in-store play CDs... and not have to pick holiday players.
Perusing the players like a kid on Christmas morning, I chose one that I had not heard in a long time: Harmonies for the Haunted, by Stellastarr*. Then it struck me. I own this CD. Why had it been so long since my last listen?
Ah, yes... because it has that freakin' content protection software. Since I do most of my music-listening at my computer, I can't play it. I'll explain why after I take a pause before making the bold statement of this piece... Content protection is protecting nothing, unless you consider negative effects on retail sales a means of protecting content.
Let's back up. The demographic that is me (18-30, college-type) is a person of computers. Most of us at least have access to one, if we don't have one at home. Few of us have stereo systems in the same room as the computer, since we rarely have the money to have multiple stereos. However, our computers have speakers and programs such as iTunes. Since we spend more time typing, playing, or IM-ing than watching TV, it just makes good sense to use our computers as a music-playing device.
The music industry knows this. They also know that these computers often have Internet access, meaning the dreaded specter of... piracy (arrr). Now, I've railed against free downloading for years, and I still will. Guess what? It is theft. You are stealing. Deal with it. Don't try to make it noble or justify it. You. Are. Stealing. OK?
That said, the record companies are taking the most asinine and knee-jerk steps to combat this. One such company is everybody's favorite merger, Sony-BMG. They've started adding content protection software to a few select CDs. In brief, the software functions thusly: You download the software from CD. You read and agree to a lengthy end-user agreement. The software allows you to listen to protected CDs, and make a limited amount of copies. If you decide not to install the software on your ol' compy, you can't listen to the CD on it. Fun.
Many of you in my demographic don't need me to expound upon the problems this process could result in, but here I go. For one, I want to install as little extra software on my computer as possible. Besides issues of memory, I simply do not like the idea of installing a program that I know little about, that is meant to limit what I can do, and is subject to change on the whim of a large faceless company.
Honestly, that last one is enough for me. But there's more. Apparently, some of the original discs with the content protection had some serious issues. The XCP software was creating such a headache, Sony-BMG voluntarily recalled all CDs using it. Not ones to give up on such a grand idea, the company decided to switch to SunnComm's MediaMax. Guess what? Already, they've had to release a patch to deal with resulting "security vulnerabilities." Bravo, Sony-BMG.
Who in their right mind (in my demographic) would want to put that excrement on their computer? As a result, I'm far less inclined to buy such CDs. Stellastarr*'s was my first, and is (ostensibly) my last. I can't be the only one in my demographic who feels this way; not something a record exec wants to hear en masse.
Now, why do I keep qualifying my statements with "in my demographic"? Two reasons. One, many folks in generations older than mine are less inclined to worry about what music companies put on their computers. "Click on 'agree,' and I can play the music? OK." Not everybody over 35 works like that, but it's not uncommon. And if they aren't up in arms about the software, it won't stop them from buying CDs.
And if the companies put this software only on CDs targeted to older demographics, fine. No problem. Since they don't, it leads me to reason two: We're a little more computer-savvy. Or paranoid. So, when they put software on CDs from Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Imogen Heap, Leo Kottke, My Morning Jacket, or Stellastarr*... there's going to be a conflict for the buyer. Do I buy the CD of someone I enjoy, even though I know I won't listen to it whenever I'm at my computer.
Now, a good record exec would hate consumers to have any impediments to making that purchase. What to do? Well, if people with this dilemma are computer-types, let's give them another chance to buy it... at iTunes. Not only can they get Harmonies for the Haunted without the content protection software, but they also get a digital booklet, an exclusive bonus track, and all for a price lower than what most dedicated music retailers can afford to sell it at.
Seriously. If you're anything like me, it simply makes no sense to buy the latest Stellastarr* at the local record store, where I work. Thank you, record companies, for a whole lot of dead stock, right next to the steaming pile of shit you left in our stockings.
Yep, there goes my post-holiday joy. And guess what? The Strokes are on the same record label! Maybe we'll have lower-than-expected sales on the first huge release of '06!
Assholes.
Perusing the players like a kid on Christmas morning, I chose one that I had not heard in a long time: Harmonies for the Haunted, by Stellastarr*. Then it struck me. I own this CD. Why had it been so long since my last listen?
Ah, yes... because it has that freakin' content protection software. Since I do most of my music-listening at my computer, I can't play it. I'll explain why after I take a pause before making the bold statement of this piece... Content protection is protecting nothing, unless you consider negative effects on retail sales a means of protecting content.
Let's back up. The demographic that is me (18-30, college-type) is a person of computers. Most of us at least have access to one, if we don't have one at home. Few of us have stereo systems in the same room as the computer, since we rarely have the money to have multiple stereos. However, our computers have speakers and programs such as iTunes. Since we spend more time typing, playing, or IM-ing than watching TV, it just makes good sense to use our computers as a music-playing device.
The music industry knows this. They also know that these computers often have Internet access, meaning the dreaded specter of... piracy (arrr). Now, I've railed against free downloading for years, and I still will. Guess what? It is theft. You are stealing. Deal with it. Don't try to make it noble or justify it. You. Are. Stealing. OK?
That said, the record companies are taking the most asinine and knee-jerk steps to combat this. One such company is everybody's favorite merger, Sony-BMG. They've started adding content protection software to a few select CDs. In brief, the software functions thusly: You download the software from CD. You read and agree to a lengthy end-user agreement. The software allows you to listen to protected CDs, and make a limited amount of copies. If you decide not to install the software on your ol' compy, you can't listen to the CD on it. Fun.
Many of you in my demographic don't need me to expound upon the problems this process could result in, but here I go. For one, I want to install as little extra software on my computer as possible. Besides issues of memory, I simply do not like the idea of installing a program that I know little about, that is meant to limit what I can do, and is subject to change on the whim of a large faceless company.
Honestly, that last one is enough for me. But there's more. Apparently, some of the original discs with the content protection had some serious issues. The XCP software was creating such a headache, Sony-BMG voluntarily recalled all CDs using it. Not ones to give up on such a grand idea, the company decided to switch to SunnComm's MediaMax. Guess what? Already, they've had to release a patch to deal with resulting "security vulnerabilities." Bravo, Sony-BMG.
Who in their right mind (in my demographic) would want to put that excrement on their computer? As a result, I'm far less inclined to buy such CDs. Stellastarr*'s was my first, and is (ostensibly) my last. I can't be the only one in my demographic who feels this way; not something a record exec wants to hear en masse.
Now, why do I keep qualifying my statements with "in my demographic"? Two reasons. One, many folks in generations older than mine are less inclined to worry about what music companies put on their computers. "Click on 'agree,' and I can play the music? OK." Not everybody over 35 works like that, but it's not uncommon. And if they aren't up in arms about the software, it won't stop them from buying CDs.
And if the companies put this software only on CDs targeted to older demographics, fine. No problem. Since they don't, it leads me to reason two: We're a little more computer-savvy. Or paranoid. So, when they put software on CDs from Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Imogen Heap, Leo Kottke, My Morning Jacket, or Stellastarr*... there's going to be a conflict for the buyer. Do I buy the CD of someone I enjoy, even though I know I won't listen to it whenever I'm at my computer.
Now, a good record exec would hate consumers to have any impediments to making that purchase. What to do? Well, if people with this dilemma are computer-types, let's give them another chance to buy it... at iTunes. Not only can they get Harmonies for the Haunted without the content protection software, but they also get a digital booklet, an exclusive bonus track, and all for a price lower than what most dedicated music retailers can afford to sell it at.
Seriously. If you're anything like me, it simply makes no sense to buy the latest Stellastarr* at the local record store, where I work. Thank you, record companies, for a whole lot of dead stock, right next to the steaming pile of shit you left in our stockings.
Yep, there goes my post-holiday joy. And guess what? The Strokes are on the same record label! Maybe we'll have lower-than-expected sales on the first huge release of '06!
Assholes.
