I sat down to hear an album and discovered I was also checking a message, reading a headline and deciding whether a photograph deserved a response. The album became the sound accompanying several other activities. Nothing had asked my permission to change the plan; I had simply kept admitting additional things into it.
So I put the phone in another room for one record. This was not a grand digital cleansing ceremony. It was an attempt to let the chosen activity happen for long enough to become recognizable.
The opening track felt different when I knew I would hear the next one too. I noticed the transition. I noticed a quieter section I usually filled with another screen. A track I tended to skip made more sense in its place in the sequence.
I am not claiming that every album demands this arrangement. Music can accompany work, travel and a very necessary washing-up session. This particular evening was supposed to be listening time. The second screen had quietly replaced it with something else.
The room helped. A comfortable chair, a drink within reach and no need to stand up every three minutes made the interval easier to protect. The setup was modest enough that I could repeat it without an elaborate preparatory mood.
At the end, I fetched the phone. The messages were still there. The album had been there too, which was the difference.
Sometimes I want several things happening at once. Sometimes I want to hear how a record ends. It is useful to decide which evening I am having before an illuminated rectangle volunteers to choose for me.
A thought worth keeping?
