Fully Automated Luxury Disk Jockeys

Here’s an interesting observation with regards to automation- with the exception of purely atmospheric concerns, we have basically automated the disk jockey, that is, the DJ, out of a job. Pandora’s music genome project, Google’s music bots, Apple’s Genius playlists, and whatever system Spotify uses, are close enough for most everyday purposes. 

Case in point- my university got it in their heads that students were becoming overwhelmed with finals. This is obviously not a major revelation, but student stress has become something of a moral and political hot issue of late. The purported reason for this is the alarmingly high rate of suicides among college students- something which other universities have started to act on. Canada, for instance, has added more school breaks throughout the year during the weeks when suicide rates peak. Other schools have taken more pragmatic measures, like installing suicide nets under tall bridges. 

Of course, the unspoken reason for this sudden focus on mental health is because the national political administration has made school shootings a matter of mental health prevention, rather than, say, making guns harder to get. My university, like my hometown, lies in the shadow of Newtown, and plenty of students here lost people firsthand. Most of us went to schools that went on lockdown that day. The university itself has had two false alarms, and police teams clad in armor and machine guns already patrol the campus regularly. So naturally, the university is throwing money at mental health initiatives. 

Rather than do something novel, like staggering exam schedules, routine audits to prevent teachers from creating too much work for students, or even abolishing final exams altogether as has been occasionally proposed, the powers that be settled on the “Stress Free Finals Week” Initiative, whereby the school adds more events to the exam week schedule. I’m not sure how adding more social events to a time when students are already pressed to cram is supposed to help, but it’s what they did. 

As a commuter and part time student, most of this happens on the periphery for me. But when, through a series of events, I wound up on campus without anything to do nor a ride home, I decided I may as well drop by. After all, they were allegedly offering free snacks if I could find the location, and being a college student, even though I had just gorged myself on holiday cookies and donuts at the Social Sciences Department Holiday Party, I was already slightly peckish. They were also advertising music.

I got there to find the mid-afternoon equivalent of a continental breakfast- chips, popcorn, donuts, and cookies. Perhaps I had expected, what with all the research on the gut-brain connection, that an event purporting to focus on mental health would have a better selection. But no matter. There was a place to sit away from the sleet outside, and free snacks. The advertised DJ was up front blasting music of questionable taste at a borderline objectionable volume, which is to say, normal for a college campus.

Except the DJ wasn’t actually playing the music. He didn’t interact with any of the equipment on the table during the time I watched, and on several occasions he surrendered any pretense of actually working by leaving the table to raid the snacks, and then sat down at another table to eat while the music handled itself. No one else seemed to think this strange, but it struck me to think that for all I know, he might have just set up a YouTube Music playlist and let the thing run, and earned money for it. Heck, he wouldn’t even have to select the playlist manually- bots can do that part too. 

There are two takeaway observations here. The first is that computer automation is happening here and now, and the first wave of that automation is hitting now. I feel it worth noting that this isn’t just manual labor being made obsolete by mechanized muscle. While it might not exactly be white collar, a modern DJ is a thinking job. Sure, it doesn’t take a genius to hit shuffle on iTunes, but actually selecting songs that match a mood and atmosphere for a given event, following up with an appropriate song, and knowing to match the differing volumes on recordings with the desired speaker volume takes at least some level of heuristic thinking. We’ve made it fairly low-hanging fruit for bots in the way we label songs by genre already, but the fact we’re already here should be worrying for people that are worried about automation-driven mass unemployment. 

The second takeaway is a sort of caveat to the first, namely; even if this guy’s job was automated, he still got paid. An argument can be made that this is a function of bureaucratic inefficiency and an enterprising fellow playing the system in order to get paid to be lazy. And while this would be a fair observation, there’s another interpretation that I think is yet more interesting. Because the way I see it, it’s not like the university misunderstood what they were buying. They advertised having a DJ. They could have found any idiot to hook up an iPhone speaker and press shuffle, but instead they hired someone. 

There was a cartoon a while back that supposed that in the future, rather than automation causing a total revolution in man’s relationship with work, that we would simple start to put more value into more obscure and esoteric commodities. The example provided was a computer running on “artisanal bits” – that is, a Turing-complete setup of humans holding up signs for ones and zeroes. The implication is that increasing wealth inequality will drive more artificial distinctions in patterns of consumption. Rich people become pickier the richer they get, and since they’re rich, they can drive demand for more niche products to provide work for the masses.

This hypothesis would fit with current observations. Not only would it explain why institutions are still willing to hire human DJs in the age of music bots, but it would explain why trends like organic foods, fair trade textiles, and so on seem to be gaining economic ground. It’s an interesting counter argument to the notion that we’re shaping up for mass unemployment.

I still think this is a horribly optimistic outlook. After all, if the owning minority can’t be bothered to pay living wages in the process of making their wealth in the first place, why would they feel a need to employ a substantial number of people after the fact? There’s also a fundamental limit on how much a single person can consume*, and the number of people who can be gainfully employed in service of a single person’s whims has a functional limit, after which employment stops being accurately described as work, and is more like private welfare. Which makes this not so much a repudiation of the problem of the problem of automation induced mass unemployment, as another possible solution. Still, it’s a thing to keep in mind, and for me, a good reminder to pay attention to what’s actually happening around me as well as what models and experts say should happen.

*Technically, this isn’t true. A person with infinite money could easily spend infinite money by purchasing items for which the prices are artificially inflated through imposed scarcity, speculative bubbles, and other economic buzzwords. But these reflect peculiarities in the market, and not the number of people involved in their production, or the quality of their work. 

Project Crimson Update

With the end of my four month free trial looming, I am once again returning to reflecting on the successes and failures of Project Crimson, that is, my scheme to phase out buying MP3s in favor of using Google’s paid music subscription service. The rationale behind this was that it costs more to buy a single CD each month than it does to pay for a one month subscription to download however much music I feel like.

I was a bit worried that I wouldn’t actually use this on a day to day basis. I was wrong. I immensely enjoy having music to listen to while going about other tasks, and I especially enjoy having the ability to pull from a vast database in order to create a soundtrack for a specific task, such as being able to create a playlist of running cadences for my exercise routine, or what have you.

I have somewhere in the ballpark of three hundred songs currently compiled in one form or another on my various devices among the various google music applications. To claim that each of these is a song that I would otherwise purchase, and therefore another dollar saved, is slightly duplicitous, as my standards for downloading a song for free are understandably lower than my standards for spending money directly on individual songs.

As I said during the opening of this project, my purchasing of music is heavily biased towards those times when I am about to travel, because that is when I will be unable to access free online streaming, and hence when I will need to have whatever music I want to have be downloaded. At the beginning of summer I was looking at a shortlist that included somewhere in the ballpark of $100 worth of music; hence why I was willing to bend my rules against spending money on “Internet luxuries” like a premium account.

And for the record: Google’s music subscription is undoubtedly a luxury. Despite how much I have come to enjoy it, is not like paying for broadband or a cell phone, which, although strictly speaking, remain optional, are made effectively compulsory because of the way society now organizes itself. It is a luxury, like cable, or Netflix, or a newspaper subscription. All nice things to have, but also things that can, in most circumstances, be axed from a tight budget without life-changing implications.

Perhaps this is why I have such trouble coming to terms with Google’s music subscription service, even though I unreservedly enjoy it and think it improves my day to day life. I have always been taught to be scrupulous about expenses, particularly luxuries. I learnt from a young age that money is a finite and scarce resource, and squandering it is not just irresponsible, but morally repugnant.

On the other hand, I have never hesitated to spend when I felt there was an articulable need, and I have relatively few qualms about spending a little extra for a better product after I have been convinced to buy in the first place. I am content to pay extra, for example, for a better fitting or looking pair of jeans provided that they serve my purpose. At restaurants, once I have decided to eat, I am seldom bothered by the relative costs of menu items unless it comes down to a tie on taste. I am able to accept that life has expenses, and that in these expenses there are inevitable tradeoffs that involve the choice between a better experience and a better price.

Which brings me to the price point. Ten dollars a month is I think an interesting price point. It is just enough that I would consider it non-negligible. Ten dollars a month translates to a coffee every two or three weeks depending on the specifics of the order, which is just often enough that I can see it in concrete terms as a regular habit. It also translates to a hundred and twenty a year, which is just enough that I feel uncomfortable carrying around the cash in person and would probably make an extra trip to the bank, if I didn’t spend it on a nice Lego set as a Christmas gift. So, although the expense certainly doesn’t break the bank, it is just large enough to be awkward.

There is one metric I haven’t mentioned that probably plays a larger role in determining both the price offered, and whether or not individuals choose to purchase Google’s music subscription: the monetary value of my time otherwise lost to advertising. This is supposed to be the core feature of their subscription model, and I’m sure is the thing that most informs their pricing. There is a number somewhere that says how many hours of video I watch or listen (but mostly for my purposes listen), and there is a number that says exactly how many advertisements I would have been subjected to during this time. I don’t know whether it is possible for me as a consumer to find this number, at least in the United States.

In any case, using some very wild ballpark guesses, I come up with somewhere around three hours a month. This does assume that every time I could get an advertisement, I do, and that it’s one of the ones that takes up time when I’m listening rather than merely popping up somewhere on my screen. Then again, Google seems to have gotten it in their server that I’m one of those demographics that advertisers want to target, so there are times when I end up seeing more ads than video. Ten dollars to reclaim three hours of good, usable, first-world time is a shockingly good deal. It’s better than minimum wage anywhere I’ve ever lived.

Except there’s that troublesome word “usable”. The economics of opportunity cost assume that I’d be doing, or want to be doing, something else that’s worth that ten dollars. Comparing the cost per hour to minimum wage only works if I have a job that makes at least minimum wage (I don’t) and that I’d be doing it during the time saved (I wouldn’t). Moreover it assumes that these tasks are mutually exclusive. This is true sometimes, but not always, depending on precisely how annoying and distracting the advertisement is. But for the most part, I am free to work with my hands, eyes, and most of my brain on another tab on my computer while advertisements play in the background. This is, after all, what I already do with music.

Since I have already gone over most of the arguments in favor of Google’s subscription service, I will also mention one more that is somewhat compelling in my case: supporting the creative economy. For the people who make the online content, including both music and videos, that my enjoyment depends on, the new subscription model provides a boost in both income and stability that is, while not massive, certainly noticeable. It adds money to the pot. And while there are far better ways of supporting individual creators (like Patreon, hint hint), knowing that my consumer spending is economically enabling and incentivizing the kind of free, accessible, and diverse content that I most enjoy.

After all of this wavering, my inclination is to probably just keep paying for my subscription. After all, I enjoy it. I enjoy having it. I don’t have a particularly pressing need for those ten dollars a month, and I can always cancel if that changes. I am still on the fence about this conclusion. But for the time being, I have come to the tentative conclusion to keep using it.

Song of Myself

Music has always played an important role in my life, and I have always found comfort in it during some of my darkest hours. In particular, I have often listened to songs that I feel reflect me as a person, regardless of whether I like them a great deal as songs, during times of crisis, as a means to remind myself who I am and what I fight for. This has led me to what I think is an interesting artistic experiment: putting together a playlist that represents, not necessarily my tastes for listening to today, but me as a person through my personal history.

To put it another way: if I was hosting an Olympics, what would the opening ceremony look, and more importantly, sound, like? Or, if I were designing a Voyager probe record to give a person I’ve never met a taste of what me means, what would it focus on?

I could easily spend a great deal of time compiling, editing, and rearranging a truly epic playlist that would last several hours. But that misses the point of this exercise. Because, while my interest in listening to my own soundtrack bight be effectively infinite, that of other people is not. The goal here is not to compile a soundtrack, but to gather a few selections that convey the zeitgeist of my past.

This is my first attempt at this. I have chosen four songs, each of which represents roughly five years of my life. I have compiled a playlist available for listening here (Yes, I have a YouTube account/channel; I use it to make my own playlists for listening. Nothing special). The songs and my takeaway from them are described below.


1997-2002: Rhapsody in Blue

If I had to pick a single piece to represent my life, it would probably have to be Rhapsody in Blue, by George Gershwin. This piece was my favorite musical piece for a long time, and I remember during our visits with my grandparents when my grandfather would put on his classical records, and I would be thrilled when this song came on.

Rhapsody in Blue is perhaps best known as the United jingle, which is part of why I loved it so much. It represented flying, travel, adventure, and being treated like a member of high society as we flew in business class. I also reveled in knowing the name of a song that everyone else knew merely as a jingle. The energy and strong melody of the piece still captivate me to this day, and remind me of the feeling of childhood delight with each new adventure and horizon.

2002 – 2007: Pack all Your Troubles Arr. Mark Northfield

Aside from being one of my favorite arrangements of any song, this particular arrangement captures many of the conflicting feelings I have towards the first part of my schooling. I was indeed happy to be in a learning environment where I could soak up knowledge, but at the same time I often found the classes themselves dreadfully dull. Additionally, while I was initially quite happy with my social group, within a couple of years I had gone from being at the center of all playground affairs to being a frequently bullied pariah.

This song juxtaposes the cheerful, upbeat World War I song with a musical soundscape of a battlefield of the same time period, becoming more chaotic and pessimistic as time goes on. This also reflects my general experience in primary school, as my social life, my overall happiness, and my physical health all deteriorated over this time from a point of relative contentment to a point of absolute crisis. (2007 was the first year in which I genuinely remember nearly dying, and the first time I was confronted with a bona-fide disability.)

2007-2012: Time, Forward!

If 2007 was a breaking point in my life, then the years following were a period of picking up the pieces, and learning how to adapt to my new reality. Time, Forward, by Georgy Sviridov, captures much the same feeling, which makes sense considering it is frequently used to represent, the Soviet 20s, including at the Sochi games. This period in my life was chaotic and turbulent, and of the things I have come to regret saying, doing, or believing, most of them happened during this period. Yet it was also a formative time, cementing the medical habits that would ensure my survival, and meeting several new friends.

During this time was when my family moved back to the United States. With a fresh start in a new hemisphere, and several new disabilities and diagnoses to juggle, I was determined above all not to allow myself to be bullied and victimized the way I had been during primary school. I threw myself into schoolwork, and tried to avoid any display of vulnerability whatsoever. This, I discovered, did not make me any more popular or liked than I had been during primary school, which yielded a great deal of angst and conflict.

2012 – 2017: Dance of the Knights

You’ll notice that this song is both pseudo-classical, in the same vein as Rhapsody in Blue, while still being known as a work of Prokofiev, a Russian, and later Soviet, composer. In this respect, it is somewhere between the 2007-2012 period, and the 1997-2002 period, which I reckon is a reasonably accurate assessment of the past five years. The great highs and lows between late primary and early high school, which often involved grave medical threats to my life, have thankfully (hopefully) given way to a more predictably unpredictable set of obstacles; not only medically, but socially and psychologically, as my friends and I have grown up and learned to handle drama better.

The commonalities between the earlier pieces also reflect the change in priorities that I have worked very hard to (re)cultivate after seeing the distress that my existentialist focus on schoolwork brought me. I have in the past few years, begun to reprioritize those things that I believe are more likely to bring me happiness over mere success, harkening back to the things I held dear, and found so intriguing in Rhapsody in Blue in early childhood. At the same time, the piece, partly as a result of its context in Romeo and Juliet, has a distinctly mature, adult air to it; something which I struggle with internally, but which I am nevertheless thrust into regularly as I age.


If anyone else is interested in trying this project/challenge, please, go ahead and let me know. I can imagine that this could make a good group prompt, and I would be very interested to compare others’ playlists with my own.