One upside of sorting through old CDs, is the opportunity to restore files that kind of disappeared two or three laptops ago. Another, is content for a recent experiment but that’s still a work in progress :^o.

Something that I also find curious is how tastes have changed. Less so my taste in music, more so my taste in interfaces. The last time that I ripped and organized these CDs, I had my own fairly strong notions of how things should be organized–and it mostly pissed me off. It’s hard to have a very uniform, tightly organized music collection in my experience. And experience has shown that often one method is as good as another until you start to stress specific problems like the maximum number of files in a directory, so meh.

My archival structure is more or less based off Plex’s format with a relatively lax level of adherence, since it’s easier to just import things like a Steam soundtrack as is, and a stack of old CDs is too much effort to value to sit around writing scripts to munge into the desired filesystem structure.

Which kind of brings me to two things that surprise me. One is that Apple Music will happily import audio CDs despite the emphasis on streaming subscription, and it’s a pretty snappy decoder. MPEG-4 containers with AAC-LC is perfectly acceptable to me as a format today due to the level of openness and support, and the iTunes Plus profile of 256K is good as anything shy of giving me a FLAC file. The other thing is that I don’t hate how Apple Music munges my rips, so much as I don’t care how Apple Music munges my rips.

The last time that I really touched anything Apple and music ripping was probably iTunes 6 or 7, which at the time was ‘current’, and let’s just say that XP was still sexy back then. Most of my friends liked iTunes, and not to big a surprise since most had an iPod even if few had Macs. But I was very perturbed by how iTunes wanted to assert its own definition of how to organize my content instead of obeying my system. Combined with being more of an XMMS / Amarok / MPlayer kind of guy, suffice it to say that I was never a fan of iTunes as a media player nor a library manager.

Fast forward to today, and what’s the real big difference there? Well, honestly the way that Apple Music manages imported CDs seems about the same that I remember from almost 20 years ago. The difference? I don’t want to manage my music through a file system. It doesn’t do my life well to organize such things in terms of files and directories built around tracks, albums, and artists and any other hoopla–no, it’s about the data model not about fitting that model to the file system.

It’s actually a lot like my contemporary relationship to notes taking over the past decade, and Android/iOS software in general. I don’t really want a model built around files when a model built around data is more practical. The obvious consequence of course, is that means decent tools. If you can’t do better than find/grep and so on then don’t bother making a fucking interface!

If files are a natural model to a problem: good. At some level most things should be files because we have good tools for working with files and it’s a fundamental aspect of data storage. But raw files are bad at metadata, at search, at relationships, and a host of other things that are more database like or more structured in nature than a stream of bytes. Files are good at storing that information not expressing those concepts, even more so when portability is a consideration. So while I still don’t like the way Apple Music organizes content anymore than I did iTunes, I can appreciate that it provides a reasonable interface particularly for the import part.

And of course the archival path is still tossing the resulting files into my own structure, lol.

While I guess I’ve always had a soft spot for cheesy songs, I’m totally blaming Guardians of the Galaxy that I found myself singing along to this one while waiting on a cup of coffee.

Ooga-chaka ooga-ooga

Ooga-chaka ooga-ooga

Ooga-chaka ooga-ooga

Ooga-chaka ooga-ooga

I can’t stop this feeling

Deep inside of me

Girl, you just don’t realize

What you do to me

When you hold me

In your arms so tight

You let me know

Everything’s all right

I’m hooked on a feeling

I’m high on believing

That you’re in love with me

Lips as sweet as candy

Its taste is on my mind

Girl, you got me thirsty

For another cup of wine

Got a bug from you, girl

But I don’t need no cure

I just stay a victim

If I can for sure

All the good love when we’re all alone

Keep it up girl

Yeah, you turn me on

I’m hooked on a feeling

I’m high on believing

That you’re in love with me

All the good love

When we’re all alone

Keep it up girl

Yeah, you turn me on

I’m hooked on a feeling

I’m high on believing

That you’re in love with me

I’m hooked on a feeling

And I’m high on believing

That you’re in love with me

I said I’m hooked on a feeling

And I’m high on believing

That you’re in love with me

Hooked on a feeling

Hooked on a Feeling 

Rock & Roll Founders

Whole lotta’ good music here, but I have to admit when you open with Bill Haley & The Comets singing (We’re Gonna) Rock Around the Clock Tonight: it’s impossible for my mind not to flash back to Happy Days!
For better or worse growing up as a couch potato has led me to associate certain audios and visuals together. Given the next tune on the playlist is Chuck Berry poppin’ Johnny B. Good, you can guess where my mind flashes to next….

Sand in My Boots, Morgan Wallen

 She asked me where I was from

I said “Somewhere you never been to”

Little town outside of Knoxville

Hidden by some dogwood trees

She tried talkin’ with my accent

We held hands and waded into

That blue water

She left her flip-flops by my Red Wings on the beach

Yeah, but now I’m dodging potholes in my sunburnt Silverado

Like a heart-broke Desperado, headed right back to my roots

Somethin’ bout the way she kissed me tells me she’d love Eastern Tennessee

Yeah, but all I brought back with me was some sand in my boots

I said “Let’s go shoot tequila”

So we walked back to that beach bar

She said “Don’t cowboy’s drink whiskey?” huh

So we drank bottom shelf

She said “Damn, that sky looks perfect”

I said, “Girl you’ve never seen stars like the ones back home”

And she said “Maybe I should see them for myself”

Yeah but, now I’m dodging potholes in my sunburnt Silverado

Like a heart-broke Desperado, headed right back to my roots

Somethin’ bout the way she kissed me tells me she’d love Eastern Tennessee

Yeah, but all I brought back with me was some sand in my boots

I said “Meet me in the mornin'”

And she told me I was crazy

Yeah, but I still thought that maybe she’d show up

Ah, but now I’m dodging potholes in my sunburnt Silverado

Like a heart-broke Desperado, headed right back to my roots

Somethin’ bout the way she kissed me tells me she’d love Eastern Tennessee

Yeah, but all I brought back with me was some sand in my boots

Yeah, but all I brought back with me was some sand in my boots

Sand in My Boots, Morgan Wallen

The problem with songs stuck in your head is they can be rather loud, but if you’re lucky they’re also good songs.

Another head hangs lowly

Child is slowly taken

And the violence, caused such silence

Who are we mistaken?

But you see, it’s not me

It’s not my family

In your head, in your head, they are fighting

With their tanks, and their bombs

And their bombs, and their guns

In your head, in your head they are crying

In your head, in your head

Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie

What’s in your head, in your head

Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie, oh

Do, do, do, do

Do, do, do, do

Do, do, do, do

Do, do, do, do

Another mother’s breaking

Heart is taking over

When the violence causes silence

We must be mistaken

It’s the same old theme

Since nineteen-sixteen

In your head, in your head, they’re still fighting

With their tanks, and their bombs

And their bombs, and their guns

In your head, in your head, they are dying

In your head, in your head

Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie

What’s in your head, in your head

Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie

Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh, ay, oh, ya ya

Zombie-ie-ie….oh

There as a thing my mother used to mention every now and then, I loosely remember it as 

They’re coming to take me away,
Haha, they’re coming to take me away,
Ho ho, hee hee, ha ha,
To the Happy Home with Trees and Flowers
And Chirping Birds, …

I always figured this was a poem or a limerick from her youth. Except I could swear there was a mention of cows and chickens somewhere. In looking it up, I’m just going to guess she had a LP of Napoleon XIV somewhere.

Actually, that would make some sense if its circa ’66. Perhaps in more ways than one.

Whether I spend it on gaming, or programming, or anything else. I find it’s a fairly narrow window betweent hat point where the dogs start deciding it’s time for bed, and they decide me getting on the computer before bed isn’t a valid excuse for it being too early for bed.

Shortly after Misty’s nightly meds the dogs usually want to get ready for bed. When they decide if I’m not in bed yet there’s going to be treats to pay is rarely long after :/.

Actually Willow always kind of wants treats but she knows after bed her odds of success go waaay down.

On the flip side in that narrow window for getting things done, I’ve got speakers and some nice music on the Country Jukebox. But of course it’s long past the point of going to bed before the dogs get anymore antsy, lol.

Alligators and ear worms

Thanks to my choice in feeds, and Google’s sans of seeding radio, I’ve had this song stuck in my head.

In 1814 we took a little trip
Along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississip
We took a little bacon and we took a little beans
And we caught the bloody British in a town in New Orleans
We fired our guns and the British kep a-comin’
There wasn’t nigh as many as there was a while ago
We fired once more and they begin to runnin’
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico
We looked down a river
And we see’d the British come
And there must have been a hundred of’em
Beatin’ on the drums
They stepped so high
And they made their bugles ring
We stood by our cotton bales
And didn’t say a thing
We fired our guns and the British kep a-comin’
There wasn’t nigh as many as there was a while ago
We fired once more and they begin to runnin’
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico
Old Hickory said we could take ’em by surprise
If we didn’t fire our muskets
‘Till we looked ’em in the eyes
We held our fire
‘Till we see’d their faces well
Then we opened up our squirrel guns
And really gave ’em – well we
Fired our guns and the British kep a-comin’
There wasn’t nigh as many as there was a while ago
We fired once more and they begin to runnin’
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico
Yeah, they ran through the briars
And they ran through the brambles
And they ran through the bushes
Where the rabbit couldn’t go
They ran so fast
That the hounds couldn’t catch ’em
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico
We fired our cannon ’til the barrel melted down
So we grabbed an alligator and we fought another round
We filled his head with cannon balls, and powdered his behind
And when we touched the powder off the gator lost his mind
We fired our guns and the British kep a-comin’
There wasn’t nigh as many as there was a while ago
We fired once more and they begin to runnin’
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico
Yeah, they ran through the briars
And they ran through the brambles
And they ran through the bushes
Where the rabbit couldn’t go
They ran so fast
That the hounds couldn’t catch ’em
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico
Hut-two-three-four
Sound off, three-four
Hut-two-three-four
Sound off, three-four
Hut-two-three-four
Hut-two-three-four.
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Johnny Horton
Battle of New Orleans lyrics © Emi Catalog Partnership

And some random chuckles involving alligators and cannon balls….