iPod Therefore I Am: Thinking Inside the White Box

In our youth, we use music as a fashion accessory. Proudly displaying rack after rack of CD's or spending more on our car's audio system than the car itself so that we can blare our tastes to all within earshot. As we get older, we realize we are no longer living in a dorm room and move our CD's from jewel cases into an album case and our LP's sit with the turntable gathering dust in the basement. It's not that we lost our love for music; we just lost the time to devote to it. Then suddenly a souped-up Altoid's case arrives that allows us to fall in love with music all over again, and with the same vigor as in our teenage years.

The iPod came into my life and now the first CD I ever bought (The Cavedog's Joyride for Shut-ins), a cassette-transferred copy of the Violent Femmes' "Add it up," the latest Devotchka CD, and an iTunes downloaded Paul Anka version of "Smells like Teen Spirit" are all available at the click of the wheel. I can instantly travel back and forth through the soundtrack of my life or share with my friends the eclectic mix of tastes that have congealed to form the man I am today. Dylan Jones examines the impact that the iPod has had on our love of music in iPod Therefore I Am: Thinking Inside the White Box.

Jones' book alternates chapters between a history of Apple and the creation of the iPod with chapters about Jones' passion for music. He retells the now well known tale of Apple's creation and the exploits of its famous co-founder, Steve Jobs. What may not be as well known is the deep connection that Steve Jobs feels towards music (Bob Dylan, to be specific) which has helped to drive Apple's pursuit of music-related technology. It is also impressive to learn that the iPod went from vague idea (create a portable electronic music device) to production model in less than a year. Jones spends a considerable amount of time discussing Jonathan Ives, Vice President of Industrial Design, whose role it is to make all things Apple aesthetically pleasing. Clearly, Jones believes that as good as Apple's technology may be, it is Ives' design sensibilities that make Apple products so popular with consumers.

The amount of material about Apple and the iPod might only warrant an extended magazine article, so to reach book-length, Jones includes chapters on music in general. Although it is padding, it is quite intelligent padding as Dylan Jones has years of experience as a music critic and magazine editor. However, it is all only tangentially related to the iPod, mostly only through Dylan Jones' reasoning as to what songs to include on his own iPod. He spends an entire chapter discussing Bryan Ferry (a.k.a. the coolest man in rock n' roll) and Roxy music. Although I am a big fan of Bryan Ferry and intrigued to learn how much of his music reflected his interest in 1950's Americana, its relevance to the iPod is solely the number of Ferry tracks on Jones' own iPod.

A chapter discussing Jones' years in art school during the heyday of the London punk scene meanders and twists its way around to deciding the best song about London to include on your iPod (The Clash's "London Calling," in case you're interested). Another chapter declares the CD the defining image of the 80's. Strange. I find the 80's much more synonymous with the cassette as most of us didn't obtain our first CD players until the late 80's and more likely early 90's. Although Jones' music ponderings can be entertaining, they still have the feel of a cheap knock off of Nick Hornby's Songbook.