This past Christmas, after an unseemly amount of hint-dropping, I finally became the proud owner of an iPod. It'smade me more anti-social and possibly more unproductive. It might even damage my hearing, as the Who's Pete Townshend - conveniently forgetting the band's deafening drum-kit explosion on national television - claims happened to him from too much earphone wearing. But one thing it most certainly is not doing is dampening my enthusiasm for good music.
This might come as considerable surprise to a team of British researchers at the University of Leicester, who released a study yesterday proclaiming that the iPod era is producing a generation that doesn't seriously appreciate songs or musical performance. Or, as "music psychologist" and research team leader Adrian North put it: "The accessibility of music has meant it is taken for granted and does not require a deep emotional commitment once associated with music appreciation."
There is a grain of truth to the study, which is the result of monitoring 346 Britons over two weeks. For some listeners, iPods turn music into background noise while going about their daily lives; for others, the urge to use them to their fullest capacity means they spend little time on each album, hurriedly moving on to the next. But the notion that downloading has led to music being "cheapened" as a commodity only makes sense if you've never heard of commercial radio or MTV - which, considering North's comparison of modern listening habits with "the 19th century, [when] music was seen as a highly valued treasure," may be the case.
It was only a few years ago that the music world was drowning in "rock is dead" summations - fittingly so, since horrible knock-offs of early '90s alternative bands and nu-metal acts were dominating the airwaves. Today, Creed's Scott Stapp only makes the news for his barfights, nobody cares about Fred Durst's sexual conquests and music snobs are too busy salivating over the latest indie act to complain about the evils of the major record labels.
The thing is, though, turning on the local "alternative" station or tuning in to MuchMusic today isn't much different than it was then - it's still heavy rotation, and bands like Nickelback are still topping the charts.
In those forums, the industry is still feeding us the same schlock. Music remains a commodity, promoted and distributed through the same crass business strategies, and musicians are worthless if they can't move enough units.
The difference is that the commercial universe is no longer the be-all and end-all. Today, discerning music listeners aren't at the mercy of a few label bosses, marketing gurus and program directors.
If they're willing to invest even a small amount of effort, they can go online, confer with other fans and have at their fingertips every imaginable artist in every imaginable genre.
The result is that, more so than generations past, the current one really is appreciating musical performance. It's a remarkable phenomenon to watch bands that would have toiled in obscurity a few years ago playing live to packed houses - not just of certified music geeks, but of teens who, to look at the charts, should be off listening to Kelly Clarkson.
On the same day Adrian North was lamenting modern habits, I was on the phone interviewing Jenny Lewis, the Rilo Kiley frontwoman set to release her debut solo album. It's a lovely, heartfelt piece of country-folk perfection. And a few years ago, it would have passed virtually unnoticed.
Today, without any serious marketing push and unlikely to get any radio play, Lewis has won such a devoted following that, in a certain corner of the music universe, hers is one of the year's most hotly anticipated releases.
She won't sell a ton of discs. But her album is already getting heavy play on iPods continent-wide, and when she tours this spring the kids will be lining up to see her. Try telling them that they don't appreciate musical performance.
