Skipping
For some reason, my podcasts started skipping. I’d get deja vu about having just heard a line and think I was going crazy, as though the Matrix was resetting itself. Something was up with the buffering. It took me back to elementary school when Ms. McIntosh would play The Statue Game in music class.
In hindsight, I could imagine this song being played alongside Barney in Guantanamo Bay. The record must have been played so often that at times during that song, it would skip and play the same word over and over.
Every record was prone to skipping. At my home, my favourite record was Gershwin’s An American In Paris. When I first learned how to use a record player, it was the one that I’d put on because it was one of those pieces that could be visualized as a short film. For me, it conjured construction scenes with cranes hauling i-beams high above a skyline. When I hear the song today, I can still anticipate the part where the record player would skip until a gave it a nudge.
Skipping creates one of those very strange effects where we get so much dissonance that it can be confusing. And it’s a sensation we must have only experienced starting with the record player, or perhaps some percussive music that someone might have experienced over time.
What weird confusing sensations will new technologies unlock? Maybe there are ones that can actually serve us rather than just confuse?
