I recently bought a couple wireless speakers so that I could listen to my music collection away from my computer, without earphones. It turns out that these speakers not only play music off my computer, though: they’ll also allow me to listen to, among other things, podcasts, Pandora, and any number of radio stations, as long as the radio station broadcasts online.
Although I got the speakers primarily with the intent of listening to my purchased music, I find that I use them mostly to listen to KSDS. I discovered San Diego’s jazz station in high school, but its broadcast was weak enough in the North County where I lived that I could generally only listen in my car if I was driving in a particular direction (south, maybe?). The station boosted its signal while I was in college, and I listened frequently when I was visiting home. For my money, KSDS is the best jazz station in the U.S. (at least, based on my experience in New York—where, seriously, the only jazz station is actually broadcast from Newark—Provo (which only played at night), D.C., and Chicago).
But, as much as I love the station, it does play songs I don’t enjoy. And it doesn’t play songs I would love to hear. I could get a more-tailored playlist from my own collection, from Pandora’s algorithm, or from Spotify’s nearly unabridged array of recordings. So why, in light of all the music and technology, go with a radio station?
Because it’s curated. The DJs at KSDS love the music they play[fn1], and they have an encyclopedic knowledge of the genre, from its beginnings to the latest records. They have opinions, quirks, and preferences. True, Pandora can potentially provide me a serendipitous find,[fn2] but it often feels more like a classic rock station, playing the obvious choices. Almost every time I listen to KSDS, I discover something new.
I’m beginning to think that church meetings function in much the same way. The talks and lessons and comments from class members are those people’s curated versions of what the Gospel means; they display the speakers’ quirks, interpretations, and lived experience. Sometimes those quirks, interpretations, and lived experience don’t resonate with me. Sometimes they bother me. Sometimes I feel like I could find more meaning by studying my scriptures on my own, focusing on the meaning that I find in them. But sometimes somebody’s curated experience with the Gospel provides me with a serendipitous find, and I discover meaning that I could not and would not have discovered on my own.[fn3]
I can still listen to my mp3s when the mood strikes; I can trust in Pandora, too. I can study on my own, using the tools that I bring to the table, to supplement what I get at church. But the curated experience, both in my musical and my religious life, is irreplaceable.
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[fn1] Seriously. Between college and law school, I moved back to San Diego for several months and was asked to play piano for the Marine Corps Recruiting Depot branch. Every Sunday morning I drove down to a soundtrack of big band swing; the DJ, it turns out, had complained that the station didn’t have any big band shows, and was invited to put one together himself.
[fn2] I heard a version of “Subterranean Homesick Blues” on Pandora several years ago that I loved; sadly, I can’t remember who it was, and I haven’t been able to recreate the series of songs that led to it.
[fn3] Yes, I realize I’m leaving out ordinances. But if our only purpose in attending church was to perform ordinances, well, I could cut the three-hour block by about two hours and 45 minutes.
In the Church, we teach each other — when I spoke in sacrament meeting on Mother’s Day, I shared my thoughts on a Gospel matter — maybe something I said was helpful to someone, maybe not — maybe the Holy Spirit testified or bore witness to someone about something I said or something someone heard or something someone was silently thinking about, or maybe not. But that’s how it works in all our meetings, from a ward sacrament meeting to general conference — we teach each other as best we can, and the Holy Spirit bears witness to truth.
So: Correlation = Pandora. Sort of a Top 40 Gospel. This is very helpful.
Ooh, Dave, I like that, and I wish I’d thought to formulate it that way!
I can see how Church is like a college radio station, not so much the commercial ones.
Yeah, Peter, most commercial radio, where DJs have a list of songs they can play, a list that has apparently been focus-grouped, doesn’t provide the benefits that KSDS does. KSDS, like most jazz (other than so-called smooth jazz) radio stations, though, seems to follow more of the enthusiast model, where DJs can play whatever strikes their fancy. Because you’re right: listening to your standard Top-40 or Classic Rock station provides less chance than Pandora for truly serendipitous discovery.
Interesting and worthwhile analogy. I’m thinking … thinking …
Thanks, Ardis!
Nicely put, Sam.
On another note, did you happen to live in San Marcos by chance?
Thanks, Sonny. I grew up a little further south, mostly in Poway and Rancho Bernardo. Did you live in North County?
As an undergrad at BYU I fell in with the wrong crowd and started to fancy myself as a techno DJ. I rode the coattails of my roommates who had created a campus club dedicated to the cause, but it wasn’t until I got to grad school that I was able to realize my aspirations–a two hour slot on Wednesday night at the school’s radio station (broadcasting radius–all of 20 miles)!
Anyway, like church, the station was staffed by volunteers who basically wanted to be there. Like church, there were administrative and maintenance tasks that nobody really wanted to do all that bad and which sometimes got put off or left undone. And like church, some of our shows were pretty rough around the edges. Still, it was pretty sweet and there was some fun cross-pollination that went on among the DJs who would otherwise not be caught dead listening to that music.
Food for thought. Thanks.
Reading blog discussions is a bit the same thing. Its remarkable how many of us are porting around our own private gospels that don’t intersect that much.
Sam,
No, but I have two sisters in the area. Great place to live.
Nice analogy!
Does it also raise a hypothesis?
Those who hate radio also find the three-hour block more difficult.
Great post Sam.
Thanks, I appreciate knowing about good jazz stations!