But what of the iPod?

Obsolescence is inevitable, in the twenty-first century - as is life, as is death. Technology might as well be slotted into such categories, anyway: what for how centric around texting, gaming, watching, our lives now are and will be, until the fiery grasp of global warming proves too much for Mother Nature to bear, or God's announcement of Judgement Day come early. With technology's constant presence in human existence as we know it, however, comes its constant development.

So it was that, as I took my dad's 'antique' piece of classic, music-oriented technology out of a box long since encrusted with a sheen of dust a few days ago, a saccharine thought revealed itself to me: 'ASHES TO ASHES, DUST TO DUST.' To which, of course, the rest of my brain responded 'how dramatic' and moved swiftly on. Yet. The meaning - regardless of false poignancy - is true, in that, and there's no nice way of putting this...the iPod is dead.

YES, did mourners gather in their masses, once-followers of the forlorn device's once-revolutionary musical possibilities, all faces marked with the stains of cascaded tears. The Apple HQ was surrounded, and justifiably so: as the bygone era that this pocket-sized catalyst for such technological developments as music streaming represented reached its conclusion, so could it not pass without due acknowledgment of its considerable importance.

And yes, I'm having you on. Taking the mickey, pulling your leg, however you'd like to phrase it, but for good reason. OF COURSE nobody batted an eyelid at the news of the iPod's demise after 20 years of production - it's highly likely that the majority of us turned to each other and asked, "they've been making them all this time?" Because who could have predicted the sheer pace at which it came and went, like a young child's birthday present: adored for weeks, months at a push, before meeting its maker at the bottom of a landfill. Better yet, who noticed its disappearance in the first place? Don't think you're the only one who didn't - none of us did. And who could blame us? Our eyes were no longer fixated on that thin screen with its insufferable dial (most likely a main factor in the device's slow death, I imagine), but on a larger, multi-talented and more 'intelligent' force: the 'smartphone'.

What a smart old thing it is. Now ubiquitous in most modern households - all fingers, not excluding your baby's grubby mitts and your grandpa's talons, have once approached a 'HOME' button - the smartphone upon first release was as revolutionary as revolutionary gets: presenting to the consumer an opportunity to play games; send messages; access social media; and perform many such activities, all at once.

Of course, the smartphone also boasted one, pivotal capability: it could play music.

This simple element provided to users by the smartphone is, ultimately, what set the death of the iPod firmly in stone; the idea of being able to stick on a favourite playlist while simultaneously scanning social media or playing Candy Crush instantly superseding that of only listening to music. To this perhaps unavoidable progression, one might conclude that we as a society are 'all the better' in our newfound ability to multitask in such an efficient way, and that the obsolescence of the iPod is just - no, a trophy, symbolic of the ever-changing nature of technology, its ceaseless pursuit of amelioration on display for all to see - but I am not 'one'. Let me tell you why.

Family matters

As I recounted not too long ago, the grey iPod of my dad's - coloured partially by design, and by dust - was lying bereft of attention in a box containing the tech of yesteryear; the JVC, a palm-sized camera, even a Stylophone; gadgets all having once played an important, if not long-term, role in our family life over the years. The fact that the device in question too resided in the container of forgotten family treasures underpins one of my reasons - albeit a biased one - for missing it. This iPod represented a deep-rooted, personal relationship between my family and music; between myself and music. Scrolling through the many tunes housed inside that little device, and making the most of its, I'll reiterate, excruciating dial all the while, I unknowingly embarked upon a journey of rediscovery. From 90s dance classics - Ray of Light, the crowning glory of the bunch - to the Mod Rockers of the 60s, traversing across the sea of the old and the new in the process, there rippled in my wake thousands of tracks; attached to every one a vision of another time; a past road trip, holiday, party. You may well deem my linking of childhood reminiscence with the greatness of a device rendered ephemeral uninspired, but I truly view the iPod as having been an instrumental force in the formation of my overall music taste, as a result of its temporary presence in my life. As will countless others.

The view into the fabled box of obsolescence!

This piece of technology was the first opportunity for music consumers to store their favourite songs on a scale grander than ever before: no longer were the days of saving a smattering of songs, as dictated by the restrictions of predecessors the CD and the cassette, for the iPod now permitted the downloading of entire discographies through iTunes. Cashing in on the new possibilities on offer in the late noughties were my parents who, just like the rest of the nation at the time, proceeded to download every banger they'd ever heard. Never before had such a blending of genres, musicians and styles been possible, and on a device so slight. It is this that, among other aspects, spurs me on to highlight the enormous impact on our present-day music consumption in which the iPod had - and to depressingly little fanfare, I feel. Anyway, onto the next tirade, dear friends!

The perils of progression

I think that, regardless of your opinions on the topic of this article, most of us can agree on the idea that watching TV is enjoyable. There's always something for everyone - for the young'un, the hungover student, the old aged pensioner - and, at key points in the year (Christmas), it's the binding agent with 100% success in quelling, if temporarily, the atmosphere of utter boredom that which only one event can create (Christmas).

I mean, hark back to the days of old, for a second: the meagre offering of 3 channels was enough to captivate a nation and gather the family around for the day's showing of Bullseye or Family Fortunes. In comparison with today's televisual experience - scooting past the obvious technological differences - the TV of the 70s and 80s was undoubtedly more successful in that endeavour; to contrast a life of 3 channels and little else to do, with an abundance of channels broadcast across the globe and bucketloads of new gadgets and gizmos at one's disposal, is to understand why.

Those were the days...

Clearly, I have too may words with which to prolong this post, forevermore! That's why I'm simply rounding off my point by outlining it in that previous sentence: we have too much choice. Embodying (and perpetuating) this idea is the smartphone, with its many channels for communication and amusement, its sole purpose being to captivate us for as long as possible. We could be idealistic about the impact of such choice, shovelled into our eyes, ears and minds on the daily, on our music consumption: that, although using the smartphone is like riding a merry-go-round of sound and fluorescence, while on drugs, one can still focus intently on what they're listening to. 

That's idealism, though. Fact is, one can be 'focused' on a song for 5 minutes, or for 5 seconds, before pressing 'SKIP' and opening Instagram. Don't tell me that you don't, like me, wind up scrolling endlessly on the music apps themselves, scavenging for new, algorithmically-suggested bangers for you to sink your gnashers into. Getting down to the nitty-gritty, we can't NOT multitask on smartphones. The iPod, however...(and you can BOO ME ALL YOU WANT, I'm making the point), this here thin slither of joy provided the bare minimum of distractions. Bog-standard games. A half-decent camera. Fun clicky noises. Lacklustre though its other functions were, it was for a refreshingly sensical reason: the iPod had one priority, one overriding purpose, and that was to facilitate the seamless consumption of music.

It's this clear, no-nonsense form of tech that I feel has gone unappreciated in its simplicity, BECAUSE of its simplicity. In a way, I yearn for the years in which we were not so enthralled by the amalgamation of choice fed to us by increasingly complex technologies...but any more of this drab speak, and I'll be plunging my phone into the toaster!

Conclusion 

This article couldn't change the course of technology - which appears to be embarking on an upwards trajectory of squeezing the consumer dry of money and time - nor could anything at all. The future might as well be ran by AI, for it'll no doubt be curating its outcomes this very second. Still, I sought (and continue to seek) to bring to the iPod's legacy a touch of reverence through all of the little it brought to music consumption; a purely good thing, in the context of today's overcomplication of simply STICKING A TUNE ON!

Folks, you can all come to your own conclusions, but I should hope, having seen all of the evidence that has been presented to you, that you too are now reaching for your 'antique' piece of classic, music-oriented technology, taking in those sweet, sweet songs, and - the killer - without distraction!