I traded Spotify with an MP3 player for a week. Life outside the algorithm was rough

1 week ago 13

I stared at the thing sitting atop my dresser with dread. For an entire week, I was going to use an MP3 player to listen to music. I’d never tried one before. In elementary school, I used various iterations of iPods, and since my Bieber-obsessed tween years, I’ve almost exclusively relied on streaming services for music and podcasts. Thanks to my Spotify Premium subscription, I’ve listened to 64,186 minutes of music in recent years.

Since the company’s debut in the US 15 years ago, Spotify has made listening to music frictionless. The streaming platform possesses roughly 31% of the world’s music subscribers, making it practically interchangeable with the music streaming industry itself. Its powerful algorithm defines how so many of us listen to music (and podcasts and audiobooks), thanks to features like Smart Shuffle, the AI DJ X and the mood-based Daylist all recommending creepily accurate songs based on your listening history. You can also sort playlists by mood (sad boy anthems), micro-genre (indie twang) and most recently, even by BPM.

A person using a SnowSky/FiiO Echo MP3 player

I was going to say goodbye to all of that. For my fellow gen Z, going analog has lately shifted from a practice reserved for neo-luddites to the mainstream. From the analog bag trend to the resurgence of CDs, people are searching for alternatives to the daily average of six mindless hours many spend staring at their smartphones.

I maybe spent five hours a day playing Spotify and couldn’t imagine how a detox would go. Not streaming music is “an experience that might have more friction”, said Liz Pelly, music journalist and author of Mood Machine, “but ultimately probably has a lot more payoff in the connection that you develop with music”.

For this Spotify-free week, I was armed with a mini MP3 player off of Amazon that reviewers praised as “great for beginners”. It had 15 hours of battery life, compatibility with more than six audio formats and an aesthetically pleasing retro look. I’d listen with classic wired Apple earphones, which are making a comeback, too.

Hopefully, they’d help me get comfortable living in a world where I didn’t have millions of songs and podcasts at my fingertips.

At a glance

My MP3 player:
SnowSky/FiiO Echo Bluetooth MP3 Player

$59.99 at Amazon

My record player:
Victrola Bluetooth Suitcase Record Player

$40.30 at Amazon

My wired earphones:
Apple EarPods

$15.99 at Amazon

Monday

Now playing: Wolves from the album For Emma, Forever Ago by Bon Iver

7am On Monday mornings, I like to go for a run before work. Instead of my perfectly curated running playlist, though, I’d have to make do with the two albums I’d downloaded from the iTunes store the night before.

I had set a week’s budget of up to $50 for song downloads, so I couldn’t go overboard. I hadn’t downloaded anything from iTunes in more than 10 years. Once I got the hang of hooking up the MP3 player to my laptop with a USB-C adaptor, though, the download time went by in a flash.

I ran with quirky pop star Audrey Hobert’s album, Who’s the Clown ($9.99 on iTunes), playing through my wired headphones. I reasoned that her upbeat tunes could serve as a decent substitute for my usual playlist. The lightweight MP3 player, stashed in the pocket of my leggings, was hardly noticeable during my run, and its sound quality was clearer than my iPhone. But the volume control buttons were hard to navigate – and I reached the end of the 35-minute album before finishing my run.

Back home, it was time to log on for a day of remote work, during which I almost always listened to music to block out the noises outside my New York apartment. I’d bought a record player earlier this month that I hadn’t used as much as I thought I would, because it wasn’t as enticing as streaming’s endless options. Now, I had the perfect excuse.

Instead of a Spotify playlist with a niche title like Rainy day moody Parisian jazz, I settled for one of the two records that I owned, Bon Iver’s 2007 album, For Emma, Forever Ago. It had enough “rainy day moody” energy to work as a substitute.

2pm I migrated my work to a nearby coffee shop, where I self-consciously whipped out my MP3 player, queuing up the one album I’d downloaded without lyrics: It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, by Vince Guaraldi ($7.41 on iTunes). I’ve listened to Guaraldi’s calming, jazzy albums since my grandma introduced me to his music as a child.

Compared with Spotify’s interface, queuing up music on the MP3 player wasn’t as intuitive. Navigating to the file I wanted to play and understanding the screen display went fine. But it was hard to choose songs to play next. Though I could, I hadn’t created playlists, meaning I had to manually select each song that wasn’t a part of the two albums in there. And the MP3 player’s confusingly similar control buttons made switching albums tough.

All that said: I thought I’d miss my random conglomeration of white noise and jazz, but to my surprise, I enjoyed listening to the album in full, feeling a deeper sense of connection to an artist I’d loved for decades.

6pm I always listen to a podcast on my evening walk. As someone whose brain never goes quiet, I knew it would quickly jump to my never-ending to-do list or self-criticisms if I strolled through Manhattan’s streets in silence. Audrey Hobert to the rescue.

Tuesday

Now playing: Sue Me from the album Who’s the Clown by Audrey Hobert

Cover art for Who’s the Clown by Audrey Hobert

7am On the subway to work, I’d usually catch up on one of the many podcasts I subscribe to. But you can’t buy podcast episodes on iTunes – it turns out a podcast’s RSS feed is the easiest way to download its episodes. (Thankfully, that’s free.)

So I was tied to the singular news episode I’d downloaded the night before: NPR’s Up First. The 26-minute episode wasn’t long enough to get me the entire way to the office, so Audrey took me the rest of the way.

12pm If I was at my desk, there was a 99% chance I was wearing my noise-cancelling headphones to help me focus. But now, I couldn’t rely on Spotify playlists like White Noise 10 Hours or gut wrenchingly beautiful pieces of classical music. Instead, I listened to the Great Pumpkin album again on my MP3 player. With its auto-looping feature, I replayed the album so many times that the songs were beginning to blur together.

8pm My new nightly ritual: deciding which podcast’s RSS feed to download for next morning’s commute. I didn’t have a radio, so this was the only way I could think of to get my news on the go. At least the process took only a few minutes.

Wednesday

Now playing: Linus and Lucy from the album It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charle Brown by Vince Guaraldi

Black-and-white portrait of Vince Guaraldi sitting at a piano

7am I woke up literally longing for my Beats headphones. I was losing my mind. While getting ready for work, I’d taken to watching 30-minute YouTube vlogs of content creators’ morning routines in an attempt to emulate my favorite chatty podcasts without downloads available.

11am I opted to work for much of the day in silence. I hadn’t gotten any more podcasts, and I didn’t have the energy to figure out what music I was in the mood for. Working in silence was uncharted territory. I eventually needed to drown out background chatter at the office with yet another play of Vince Guaraldi Trio.

While checking Instagram, I saw that one of my favorite artists, the folky singer-songwriter Noah Kahan, was releasing a new single in a couple of days. My brain itched to play his old albums in celebration. Instead, I played the track preview he shared more times than I’d like to admit.

6pm When I arrived home, my roommate had white noise playing in the living room. She doesn’t know how good she has it, I thought. I inched closer to her laptop, desperate to listen to something that wasn’t Vince Guaraldi.

Thursday

Now Playing: Music by Men from the album Everybody Scream by Florence + the Machine

Cover art of Florence + the Machine’s album Everybody Scream

7am I felt smug. For my walk to work, I’d planned the night before, downloading a long episode of the Guardian’s podcast, Today in Focus, to get me through my entire commute.

To my horror, when I went to click play, the file type said it was incompatible. The MP3 player didn’t offer any information on troubleshooting the issue either. I resigned myself to silence for my entire commute to work. It was one of the rare days I took the subway into the office, so I had plenty of background noise (although most of it unpleasant) to keep me company.

12pm At work, I switched between my trusty Vince Guaraldi Trio jazz and other songs I’d downloaded, including Music By Men, a quippy indie rock tune ($1.29 on iTunes) from Florence + the Machine’s latest album.

6pm Wearing my wired headphones was the only way to listen to my MP3 player. But the frosty weather meant I was wearing two hoods, a puffy coat and a scarf. My headphones kept getting tangled up in those layers, refusing to stay put while I walked home.

Friday

Now Playing: Come a Little Closer from the album Melophobia by Cage the Elephant

Cover art for Come a Little Closer by Cage the Elephant

7am I somehow made it through an eight-mile run with only Audrey Hobert to keep me company. I was beginning to associate her music with running in freezing weather, which made listening to her album a little less exciting.

When it was time to work from home, I selected my Bon Iver record again as the soundtrack to the mundane task of responding to emails. At this point, I admit I felt a bit holier than thou, imagining all the other people mindlessly scrolling through their Spotify feeds, letting its algorithm do their work for them.

1pm I headed into the office. I worked without background music for much of the day – which was surprisingly easier than I thought it would be. And when I needed an energy boost to power through the rest of my work day, I selected Come a Little Closer ($1.29 on iTunes), the only song I’d bought from one of my favorite bands, Cage the Elephant. Choosing one song had made me feel like a mom picking her favorite child. In the end, I opted for Come a Little Closer because I adore the track’s bridge and electric guitar sounds.

6pm By this point, I was used to venturing out sans podcast or playlist, and attuned to Manhattan’s blaring horns and noisy pedestrians. Usually, I’d decide between calling my mom or playing an hour-long podcast (sorry, mom). This time, there was no competition.

Saturday

Now Playing: Phoebe from the album Who’s the Clown by Audrey Hobert

8am I was brave this morning – I went to Trader Joe’s without my MP3 player. I wanted a break from constantly looping the same songs. This led to fewer grocery cart traffic jams than prior trips, where I’d have music blasting through my ears.

3pm While cleaning my apartment, I decided on more Audrey Hobert, her conversational lyrics keeping me company while I mopped the floors – until my already tangled headphones fell out one too many times and I gave up.

9pm I spent much of my evening watching Heated Rivalry on HBO Max. Ilya and Shane’s steamy melodrama was a welcome reprieve from the past six days of this experiment.

Sunday

Now Playing: Chains from the album Rumours by Fleetwood Mac

11am For half an hour, I listened to nothing on my blustery walk to brunch with my friends. I’d forgotten to download a podcast to my MP3 player. But I was growing used to sitting with my thoughts, sometimes actually preferring silence to my limited music and podcasts.

2pm Back home, I played the only other record I owned, Fleetwood Mac’s album Rumours. It was another gloomy winter day, and I always turn to their groovy music when I want a bit of a mood boost.

I still craved the ease of throwing on whatever song I wanted on Spotify, but it wasn’t as strong as it was earlier in the week. In a mere seven days, I had gotten more used to analog life than I realized was possible.

7pm I had spent the past week rotating between five artists, two albums and seven podcast episodes. Forced to select a song or album with intention, I missed listening to something that fit my exact mood. But I’d noticed a wholesome side-effect: learning how much I enjoyed jazz, as I often opted for Vince Guaraldi over Audrey Hopbert to get me through a day’s work.

Was I going to quit music streaming forever? Probably not. Its convenience and endless chances for discovery are luxuries I’m still not ready to give up. But I am looking into the interesting streaming alternatives out there, like Tidal, a platform also known for supporting musicians, and Radio Garden, where you can listen to radio stations across the globe. Or just listening to full-length albums on my record player more often. The older generations had a point: Spotify isn’t the only way to listen to music.

“Do you want to watch the Grammys, so that you can listen to other music?” my roommate asked this evening. Of all days, today happened to coincide with the 68th annual Grammy awards. To my own surprise, I said no.

In our Do not disturb series, the Filter US recommends products and activities that help you reduce your screen time and live a more mindful life. Have a recommendation – or disagree with our review? Email [email protected]

Read Entire Article