What do you do? (By the way, that album should be called “Single Fantasy” because every other track is Yoko. Or there’s one sad, already broken junior investment banker who’s been working 70 hours a week just trying to go home and sleep when one of Yoko Ono’s “songs” from “Double Fantasy” starts blaring. Or you’re driving around a group of UCLA bros and Lisa Loeb’s “Stay” comes on. Suddenly NWA’s “Fuck Tha Police” pops on when you’re with the only female customer over 60 to ever ride in your car. When you’re getting paid to drive people around, however, all the limitations of your music become readily available. Why did you hobble yourselves right out of the gate? -You, and Chubawumba.) Why not shoot for being Prince, if you’re gonna do that? Why pretend to be Hoobastank? (If you’re reading this, no offense, you have a funny sounding jokey name.
You become Joni Mitchell, Mick Jagger, Jeff Tweedy. You feel one with your favorite artists, you feel they’re only speaking to you. When you’re listening to your music for your own pleasure, no one can touch you. There’s a lot of great stuff, but a lot of total shite. Maybe most people don’t have that much music. Once the ipod achieved it’s zenith, it could hold 160 GBs. And ten years ago, that was a pretty much endful 10GBs of storage. I know, it sounds antiquated now, as everyone’s moved onto to Spotify and Pandora, etc…and music ownership is now but a faded notion like “The Greatest Generation” or dial up.īut just a decade ago, it would have been a crazy, ungraspable dream to take a smallish device that had endless music and hook it up to a USB cord in a little box above your glove compartment. When I first started driving for Uber, I thought I’d have fun driving around listening to my ipod.
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