It’s All Too Much! ...And That’s Okay: A tale of the internet, media, and consumerism
written by Samuel Winnie
2019 GLFCAM Anita and Leslie Bassett Fellow, Cycle 9
One of life’s most poignant curiosities is how every once in a while, something as trivial and seemingly insignificant as a short conversation can later have a substantial impact on your life. This exact scenario happened to me back in early July of 2018. I was with a friend at a rally in Washington D.C. and we were casually talking about music and media in general in our downtime. At one point, the jovial nature of our conversation took a surprising turn. Driven by an acute fear of missing out, my friend exclaimed: “It’s all too much!”
After a brief moment of bewilderment on my part, my friend explained the rationale behind their desire to be familiar with all of the great content that exists in the world. Theirs was a futile attempt at trying to absorb as much as humanly possible. This rather quickly became untenable and in a fit, led to them overcompensating and cutting out almost all media for a time from their life. Neither of these situations resulted in any satisfaction, so the question arises as to what is the best way forward?
In the moment, I was not personally affected by this tribulation and offered assurances that no one would be able to justifiably expect that you should be familiar with everything. People are inclined to give the benefit of the doubt that just because you may not know about something, whether it be an artist, a movie, etc., does not mean they think you are a lackwit. As well-intended as these assurances I provided were, they did not really address the issue at all, they just sought to minimize it.
Now, to a lesser extent, I had struggled with this in the past, albeit largely from the opposite extreme. But, in the coming months, experiences brought me a greater understanding of the problem and down a similar path. In my years as a music composition undergraduate at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County, I had managed to unknowingly paint myself into a comfortable box. I knew what sorts of music, books, and films I liked and was content with that. Comfort, however, often breeds complacency. Academia allowed me to expand that box and facilitated a deeper knowledge in many subjects of my interest, but I was still nestled comfortably inside. That was when life, as it is wont to do, happened.
Ignorance is not always bliss, because there were entire forms of media that I had known existed, but neglected. Music streaming platforms like Spotify, while being virtually limitless libraries ripe for exploration, are a double-edged blade in that their intuitive algorithms are crafted to push users to dive further into subject areas they already are familiar with. This novelty can be quite tempting because it is easy to fall into what is safe and does not go against the grain or pose a risk that it may not be enjoyable or worthwhile.
With the advent of social media, streaming platforms, and other mobile Internet sources, the millennial generation (my generation) is becoming increasingly and uniquely aware of this issue. How does one reconcile the irreconcilable fact that we have only 80ish years to consume millions of years of media? I could not begin to offer the best possible solution to this dilemma, mostly because I think that solution, whatever it is, is likely different for everyone. That said, my approach on how to navigate this immense digital terrain might be a useful starting place for anyone in a similar position.
If you imagined that my daily time spent consuming media in the years following my undergraduate degree were a pie chart, about ninety percent of that chart would consist of my aforementioned comfort zone. That remaining ten percent, however, would constitute the music and other media that was beyond the confines of my box. Unfortunately, perhaps because in most cases I was not being compelled to do so, I never truly actively and critically engaged with any of that material. It was all listened to or experienced passively and absentmindedly. This went on for quite some time and, if I am not on my guard, still tends to become my default position.
The conversation at the rally did turn out to be something of a turning point in my approach to listening to music and auditory media at large, opening me up to artistic pursuits I would not have envisioned in years prior. My pie chart has now been effectively cut down the middle, with half still devoted to content I know I enjoy and the other half devoted to exploration. While I was cautiously optimistic at first, this small endeavor ended up being incredibly and unexpectedly fruitful. One might think that since I have listened to so many audiobooks (I love a good narrative, but am often on the road and unable to read as much as I would like) that something like a podcast would be right up my alley. That would be correct, but I was willfully ignorant of this vast network of creativity. What launched me into the world of podcasting was a show produced by Slate Magazine, “Lend Me Your Ears”, a podcast that broke down various prominent and political plays by Shakespeare. I found the style of the podcast and the depth with which they investigated the political and social ramifications of his works astonishing. After subscribing to this and a few other story-driven podcasts, I resolved that I wanted to produce something of my own.
In September of 2018, I met with a college friend of mine, a talented playwright who also harbored a desire to get into podcasting. After several discussions that dragged late into the night, we discovered that we shared a similar passion for the history of Baltimore, its culture, lore, and figureheads, but most importantly, the enigmatic writer, Edgar Allan Poe. Our work immediately began on what became known as “The Poe Toaster Radio Show”, named after the Poe Toaster, an infamous character rooted in Baltimore lore. Over the next few weeks, scripts were written, thematic and incidental music was composed, casts were called, and we began recording the voice work. When all was said and done, we had released a five-episode miniseries dedicated to the gothic works of Poe. Looking back on this venture, I can say with complete certainty that it is one of the most gratifying experiences I have had as an artist and producer. I was able to put my own acting chops to the test as well as wear the hats of being a director, editor, and recording engineer.
Suffice it to say, had I not breached the walls of my musical/auditory comfort box, this project and the many projects to come would have never been conceived. One important thought to note is that this idea of leaving a comfort zone is not just limited to the arts and entertainment. It applies equally to history, science, or any area of knowledge, but perhaps diving into that wider array of subjects is too ambitious for now. We should, nonetheless, strive to find a balance between what we already know and love and what we have yet to know. At the same time, we must accept that we cannot know everything, but take solace in the fact that we are attempting to grow our tastes and breadths of knowledge.
Samuel Winnie is a Baltimore-based composer originally from Joppa, MD, who received his BA in Music Composition in the spring of 2016. As an undergraduate, Sam studied music under UMBC’s composition faculty: Dr. Anna Rubin and Dr. Linda Dusman. Throughout his tenure as a Linehan Artist Scholar, Sam collaborated with UMBC's finest artists in many multimedia works, such as the award-winning documentary "Future Children", by Emily Eaglin. Learn more from Samuel’s bio page.