Little Stories

We love telling our little stories. We condense and embellish events. We forget and reinterpret memories. We draw a line through the chaotic. Taking one piece here and another there. A collage emerges. No wasted space. Just color and movement. We tell little stories for without them it is just an endless stream of happenstance.

A little story I've been telling lately is a sequel to my music discovery story.

I saved up and bought a pair of "good" headphones: AIAIAI TMA-2s. A modular system marketed to musicians for performance and music creation. They can be plugged in like an analog set and deliver high-fidelity, balanced sound (useful for video editing), but due to the modularity of the system, I was also able to purchase a bluetooth component for my pair (useful for casual listening with my phone). I love swiss army knives.

I've been to concerts, used cheap earbuds, car stereos, built-in phone speakers, etc., and never cared to notice the difference. The main motivations for this purchase were pandemic concerns: zoom meetings and a way to enjoy a movie or video game full blast without bothering my roommate. Music was my last consideration.

But as I assembled my new headphones and connected them to my smartphone for the first time, I wondered how much they could really elevate music. Were the audiophiles just blowing smoke. So I pulled up the song that introduced me to the world of music: Unmarked Helicopters by The Jezabels.*

The first time I listened to this track was on a chunky, white plastic iMac via a YouTube video sponsored by Red Bull. That setup was enough to arrest my attention and finally prompt serious exploration of music. I've listened to this song hundreds of times since.

Would you believe me if I said listening to Unmarked Helicopters through these cans was like hearing it again for the first time?

I sank back into my couch, shivers running down my spine, and had a little transcendent experience. This song, which I'd heard before only as a single, excited brushstroke, was now a landscape painted by a dozen different brushes. I could hear each facet of the song: the warm hiss of the sound bed, the clear vocals, the guitar dancing around the booming echo of the drums, and the piano jumping to the fore then running away.

I'm listening to it again now and getting chills. The song rendered through these headphones is no longer a breath in the air, but has taken on flesh to dwell with me in this moment.

Am I now an audiophile? Nah. But the perceived value I gained from this purchase has gone up dramatically. It's reinforced the worth of investing in well-made tools. Using them to create or appreciate art guarantees a delightful spark of joy without fail.

*The song was actually A Little Piece by The Jezables. It’s startling how memories wear and are patched with falsehoods. I was certain it was Unmarked Helicopters until I linked to the YouTube video and, there in the description, was the truth. But it’s a better story this way.