I’ve been dubbed the unofficial grandpa of my friend group, all because I’ve stayed true to a 90s norm.
I pay for my music—you heard it right. Every one of my nearly 1,000 songs were purchased for a debatably overpriced $1.29. Well, now we’ve got Spotify and Apple Music—which offer memberships for reasonable monthly fees—but my downloading days began with glorified Walkman iPods.
Whenever I get caught over-playing a guilty-pleasure tune—usually some sort of Britney-esque throwback—I always get asked, “Why don’t you retire the old stuff?”
Besides the fact that repetition is the driving force to every collegiate day I face, and it’s been ingrained in my personal life, I overplay my music because it’s mine. And, surprisingly, that’s something not many millennials can truthfully say. I work hard to earn money every summer and I want to take advantage of the purchases I spend that money on—even if my music-based purchases usually surround some embarrassingly cheesy pop track.
Being raised in the digital age, we’ve become accustomed to the often illegal means for acquiring content readily available to us. With the help of peer-to-peer sharing software and YouTube conversions, we can download songs with the literal tap of a mouse’s left button—giving us access to what we want, whenever we want it.
Simply put, it’s a dangerous concept.
Because of this digital revolution, the lines of ownership appear blurred, so we’ve begun living a life accepting of hands-free stealing.
In fact, according to Tech Times, a recent study showed that around 57 million Americans are illegally downloading music—an astounding finding.
Luckily, I was scared nearly iPod-less in middle school, after my conservative parents told me of a local man being arrested for downloading over 1,000 songs via LimeWire; my parents knew little about the fairly new concept of “illegal downloading” but did know it was morally wrong and inherently illegal.
Hearing this story was nothing short of traumatizing. At that point in my life, I wholeheartedly believed my 12-year-old self would end up in Apple jail—all for irresponsibly downloading the Camp Rock soundtrack onto my lime green iPod nano. I just didn’t want to take the risk.
Now, LimeWire is a thing of the past and illegal downloading outlets are more congenial than ever. My friends and family have a multitude of songs, from disco to rap, pop to rock—with a little bit of alternative in that musical mix somewhere. The attitude towards music has shifted from a respect for art to a desire to have it all. Why not download a sub-par pop album we’ll likely never listen to because, after all, it’s free?
What we forget is that this sort of hands-free stealing isn’t any different from shoplifting at the local grocery store. Whether we’re sliding a few extra energy drinks through the self-checkout area or packing our iPod full of easily attainable albums, we’re still taking something rightfully owned by another. Further, crime isn’t defined by the likeliness of punishment; just because the chances of law enforcement intervening is slim doesn’t mean it’s not morally abhorrent.
People often refute this argument, saying entertainers make enough money as it is: What’s the loss of a few million to an entertainer like Beyonce who’s racked up a net worth of nearly $54.5 million?
As I see it, entertainers work hard for their money just like Mrs. so-and-so who taught us elementary English or the local bank teller, working a 9 to 5 job. Sure, they’re afforded some high-paying endorsement deals because of their celebrity, but they’re still putting in the work. The harsh reality: Artists spend months of sleepless nights toiling in the studio to make content they’ll likely remain unpaid for by a contingent of the population.
Imagine a complete stranger stealing a portion of our parent’s paychecks growing up, no matter how minuscule or grandiose they might have been. It’s a sickening thought because stealing is indisputably flawed.
We’re paid for the labor we furnish, so, even if it means paying an irksome, monthly Spotify or Apple Music membership fee, paying for the tracks that stock our music-playing device is righteous. After all, isn’t that a moral status we should all be striving for?
This feature was originally adapted, with permission, from Liam’s page on https://www.theodysseyonline.com/pay-music