There are some truly awful adverts on TV at the moment. The trouble is, I can name pretty much every one of them, meaning that this badvertising is actually proving effective, meaning that there'll inevitably be more of it. Worse, people actually seem to actively like some of this stupid nonsense, meaning they go viral and enter culture at large.
Let's take the Confused.com adverts. These have developed a life of their own over the years. Formerly, their crazy-haired mascot was just that — a mascot or, more accurately, a logo. Now, however, she's jumping around, singing some butchered version of YMCA which has been badly edited so it doesn't flow properly and, to make it even worse, the animators have actually taken the time to make her boobs jiggle.
The butchering of a popular song seems to be a much-used approach at the moment. DHL do it with their latest, which puts some nonsense about "logistics" (don't even get me started on that one) in place of "That's Amoré" or whatever the song is actually called. And there are doubtless others out there.
Then we have hair care and beauty products, which are in a whole world of their own. One commercial at the moment actually promises "even more science". Others make up lists of "seven signs of aging" or "thirty-eight signs of damaged hair" or "twelve signs your vagina is about to fall out". For example.
One of the best-worst adverts at the moment is for Müller yogurts. It's an impressive homage to kids' TV of the past, featuring characters like Yogi Bear and the Mr Men in some sort of terrifying dystopian future where cartoon characters are possessing humanity, but it has absolutely nothing to do with yogurt. You can guarantee it will have been a subject of discussion at water coolers across the country, but will it sell yogurts? I have no idea.
By far the most infuriating place to watch ads is on YouTube, which appears to carry a library of approximately two ads at any one time and play the same ones every time you want to watch a TV programme, then again halfway through. Thankfully, recently, a bug in the system means that they often cut off early, leading to some interesting edits — the best of which is clearly the Coors advert, which opens with Jean Claude van Damme saying "Hello, I am van Damme. My pants froze," and often cuts off at just that point.
Advertising serves a purpose, of course. Without it some things wouldn't get funded. But does it have to be quite so fucking irritating?
Have you been injured in an accident that wasn't your fault? Then call Injury Lawye– wait, no, that's not what I was getting at.
Have you ever hurt yourself on something that really shouldn't hurt you? It's an infuriating experience. Today I injured my thumb on my trousers.
Yes, really.
Let me explain. I have a pair of cheap-ass jeans from Primark (I know, I know, child labour, but cheap. I couldn't afford to be ethical while I was unemployed) that are fine for most things, but one of the rivety things or whatever they're called that holds the pockets in place is coming off a little bit, meaning there's a bit of a sharp edge upon which it's very easy to nick oneself. Normally I remember it's there, but as I was sitting down to enjoy a cup of coffee this morning I caught myself good and proper on the thumb, ripping off an impressively sizeable chunk of skin and causing it to bleed profusely.
This would have been infuriating enough had I done it in private, but of course I was in public at the time, meaning that any number of people could have witnessed me sitting at a table with clearly nothing around me that could have possibly injured my finger, yet there I was clasping a bloody napkin to it and wincing.
The only thing slightly more embarrassing than injuring yourself on something as innocuous as a pair of trousers is injuring yourself (in public, naturally) on absolutely nothing at all — the "I Just Tripped Over My Own Feet" scenario. There are few ways to deal with this that leave you with any dignity remaining — whether you choose to simply take the fall and hope that a kind passer by helps you up, assuming that you're some sort of invalid, or to stumble and break into a slow run as if you always intended to lurch forwards in the way that you did, everyone around you will know that you tripped over absolutely nothing at all and are, therefore, a Bit of a Spaz.
Should you find yourself injuring yourself on a pair of trousers or tripping over absolutely nothing at all (bar your own feet) then there's likely very little that Injury Lawyers 4 U ("We're real lawyers!") can do for you. Unless you're planning on suing yourself for being such a damn clumsy twat. And that, as I'm sure you're aware, would be an ultimately self-defeating exercise. Literally.
You could always hope that someone was there with a video camera hoping to make a quick buck from You've Been Framed, of course. If you spot yourself on the TV, then be sure to claim likeness rights. You'll be in the money. Maybe.
Everyone knows that you shouldn't read Internet comments where the public has been allowed to voice its opinions without any filtering. It's why sensible people avoid looking at 4chan, YouTube comments and App Store reviews. But, like a car crash, sometimes you just can't look away from these comments sections, no matter how infuriating they might end up being.
I made the mistake of browsing the App Store tonight and perusing a few obviously stupid apps which, inevitably, had rather low ratings. Let's see what the reviewers had to make of them, shall we?
First up is Mario and Friends. This decidedly copyright-infringing app makes it very clear in its description that it is a soundboard featuring music and sound effects from classic titles such as Mario, Zelda and Sonic. Let's take a small sample of the reviews:
"This is not a game. Where is my money?" — Cheat11111111
"Please do not buy this app does not work my young grand daughter was so disappointed !!" — ena Sproule
"Thought this was the game what a load of rubbish I mean why wud we want the listen to the music without playing the actual game?? Waist of 69p!!!" — lisa green
"None of the buttons work so it's impossible to play waste of money" — Al24467
What you'll see from most App Store reviews of this type are a few consistent features: overuse of exclamation marks, an inability to know when one sentence ends and another begins, and an inability to use the correct homophone.
Let's take a look at another excellent example: Unlock It! which promises new lock themes for your iPhone and, again, in the description makes it clear that it's a spoof app, not an actual means of overriding a fundamental way the iPhone works. Here are some choice reviews:
"I was so happy that I would be able to Chang e the lock screen but then it turned out to be a scam! I doesn't let you change the lock screen! Do not get it! SO UNHAPPY!!" — Kezmatron
"Should've read the reviews – this is tripe!!" — Jonzo15a
"Don't get it.. I was so happy with idea.. Then so upset with the lies that lied deep inside!! C***S!!" — Bleepsound
"This app is a complete con. Do not buy it. It does not have any of the functionality it claims to offer it simply takes a photo which you can save as your background to imitate a security function. Very poor." — Black and White Army
"A new this app sounded 2 gd to be true" — Dj disco dave
What have we learned from all this? That the sort of person who leaves App Store reviews probably hasn't read the app description before downloading. This type of person can be regularly seen elsewhere on the Internet indulging in very similar behaviour in other places — commenting on N4G having only read the headline, not the whole article; commenting on a YouTube video without watching the video; commenting on a news story without reading the story; commenting on a Facebook page without looking to see what kind of page it is; and numerous others.
It's very simple, people. Slow down. Read things. If you're looking at something, look at it properly. You've taken the time to click a link to something or other — why not check it out properly rather than immediately flying off the handle and crying "scam!"/"fake!"/"bias!"/"fanboy!"/"bullshit!" etc.
Andie and I joined the local gym yesterday, and had our induction sessions today. All is good and we're feeling suitably motivated to proceed. This will likely mean leaving EA Sports Active 2 by the wayside — boo, no PSN trophies for me, but seriously, who gives a toss? — in favour of using actual proper exercise machines. And also not having to strap on those motion sensors which occasionally disconnect for no apparent reason.
Don't get me wrong, EA Sports Active 2 is great, and it offered enough to get me motivated to start gymming it again, but there's no substitute for the "real thing".
The thing with being a member of the gym is, of course, maintaining your motivation factor. There are lots of ways you can do this — going along with a friend, keeping a log of your progress or, increasingly, using some form of website or app to both track your progress and brag about how awesome you are and how swell your guns are looking.
There are plenty of these available — Runkeeper Pro is my app of choice on my iPhone — but a lot of them are relatively simple affairs that just track what you've done without any particular form of motivation bar what you make up for yourself. Runkeeper does email you every time you break a personal record, but that's about it.
Enter Fitocracy, an up-and-coming website that's still in beta. Fitocracy takes the concept of fitness tracking and jams it firmly up the arse of social gaming. This means that every time you track some fitness, you get points. Points mean levels. Levels, as we've seen from fifteen billion social games that really don't need a levelling system, are a powerful motivational tool — and, as each level gets progressively harder to achieve, they inspire you to push yourself a little bit further, whether that's demonstrating your patience with clicking on a Facebook game, or feeling the burn a little bit more with your workouts.
There's also a Quests function, which is an awesome idea. Take on a Quest and you'll challenge yourself to do a specific exercise or combination, with points on offer as a reward upon completion. Obviously a large amount of this is down to your own honesty — but then so is fitness tracking itself, and the only person you're cheating if you lie is yourself. Levels don't get you anything per se, they simply provide a degree of motivation to the whole experience.
I will be trying out Fitocracy with some interest over the next few weeks — and possibly longer if it turns out to be awesome. It's invite-only at the minute, but if you'd like to try it out for yourself, get in touch and I can hook you up with one of my remaining ones so you can check it out.
I've been playing with my shiny new iPhone 4S for a day and a bit now and I have to say it's rather nice. While fundamentally pretty similar to the 4, as you might expect, the speed boost is nice and having a Home button that works made the whole upgrade process worthwhile, too — let's hope that whatever "known issue" plagued iPhone 4 Home buttons is a thing of the past with the new model ones, because having to take 4 or 5 attempts to pop up the multitasking bar was rather annoying.
iOS 5 is the star of the show and, unlike when iOS 4 hit the iPhone 3G, older phones can benefit from most of the features. (For the unfamiliar, iOS 4 not only brought the 3G to a near-standstill, it for some reason couldn't handle functionality as basic as Home screen wallpaper — and certainly no multitasking.) I spent a couple of days with my 4 running iOS 5 and didn't have any issues — not heard from anyone who installed it on a 3GS, however.
The best change is to notifications. No longer do we suffer session-interrupting popups that monopolise the entire system. Instead, we have discreet banners at the top of the screen, or multiple messages with app icons on the Lock screen. Not only that, we have a pleasant pull down place to see all our recent notifications and jump straight to the app that sent them. Big improvement, particularly as this also integrates with the new Reminders app, displaying all your most important Reminders first. You can also turn off the OCD-nightmare badge counts — even for incoming emails — and set anything you like (that notifies you, obviously) to pop up with a banner. You can switch back to the obtrusive messages if you want, but if you do you're a big silly.
Then comes all the voice recognition business. For starters, most apps that include the default soft keyboard now have a microphone button for dictation. Accuracy is generally pretty good, and it knows contextually which homophones you might be using, though if you talk a little too quickly or don't say your words with perfect diction it occasionally struggles. (For the record, it dictated me saying "penis penis penis penis penis penis penis" at it perfectly earlier, but failed on a similar test using the word "buttocks".)
With the voice recognition, of course, comes Siri, your personal assistant. While a lot of attention has been given to the numerous Easter eggs built into Siri's responses — proving that Apple does have a sense of humour after all — the practical uses of the system are more impressive. "Remind me about my gym induction tomorrow at 11am," I said. Siri responded by setting up a reminder at the correct time. "Set an alarm for tomorrow morning at 10.30 with the label 'gym induction'," I added. Siri complied, even adding the requested label and activating the alarm. Okay, belching at Siri twice did inadvertently dial my friend Holly's phone number, but I wasn't expecting a "pardon you". That really would be impressive.
In terms of software, the speed increase of the new tech is very much noticeable in games — particularly those which even caused the 4 to struggle. Final Fantasy Tactics and Dungeon Defenders both run beautifully on the 4S, making me think that this phone, if any, is going to be the one to make big developer think "hmmm… yes." We've already seen a couple of iPad 2/iPhone 4S exclusive titles appear — Machinarium only runs on iPad, for example, while Rockstar's reissue of Grand Theft Auto III later this year will only run on 4S or iPad 2. We're also seeing titles like Real Racing 2 offering enhanced graphics for the newer hardware, coupled with the AirPlay feature which effectively turns an Apple TV and iPad/4S combo into a Wii U, albeit one with no buttons.
So if you're on the fence about the 4S and thinking "hmm, I'll wait for the 5" first of all, stop it, the thing just came out — and secondly, don't hesitate. The most accessible smartphone on the market just got a whole lot better. Sure, Android can do more — but iOS does it with grace, no need for rooting and you know that, as I said yesterday, any new features Apple have implemented are in there because they think — and are usually right about these things, given past performance — that the time is right for them to become "mainstream".
In other words, you may feel like a dick talking to your phone now, but when everyone realises that we're actually a step closer to Star Trek, shit's gonna get real, yo.
Siri, publish this post. No, publish. What are you doing? No, don't phone them! Damn you!
I'm queuing for the iPhone 4S. Yes, I am That Guy, though I wasn't the first here by a long shot. The fortunate thing about not living in a particularly huge town is that queues on days like this don't tend to be huge. Even so, I still might be waiting for an hour or more — without, necessarily, any guarantee of a new phone at the other end. But… shiny new tech. Why not? I can even cover the upgrade cost by recycling my 4, so no real loss (beside o2's contracts, which get worse each year, of course).
The feature which most people seem to be talking about with the 4S is Siri, the voice activated assistant app. Some have pointed out that this perhaps isn't quite as revolutionary as Apple would like you to think, but the key difference here is that Apple is building it in to all the new phones (4Ses, anyway) and thus making it a standard(ish) feature rather than an optional app. It remains to be seen if Siri is as good as its demonstrations seem to indicate, but the fact it'll be in the hands of all new customers who take the plunge for a 4S is notable.
Apple do this a lot. They keep an eye on competitors' tech and apps, see what works and what doesn't, then cherry-pick the best bits to include into their own OS. This leaves them open to regular accusations of being derivative, and of Android doing it better. But the important difference when Apple adopts a new feature is that it's effectively "standardising" it, putting it in the hands of all customers rather than just those who know how to root their phone.
Given the appeal of iOS devices to otherwise tech-phobic people, this is a good thing. You just have to look at how much people complain every time Facebook changes its interface to see that People Do Not Like Change. And yet I can't remember hearing people complain about the changes and additions to iOS in the same way. Features are introduced slowly and gradually, and given enough time to become firmly entrenched as an integral part of the experience. This is done at such a pace as to not frighten those who are less confident with tech, while still allowing geeky geeks the features they desire.
In short, Apple have their head screwed on right. For all the shit Android users give them, there's a lot to be said for Apple's conscious desire to appeal to the widest possible mainstream audience — not just geeks — and make the smartphone an important part of 21st century living.
A lot of people, both inside and outside the UK, assume that the best TV comes from the BBC. Sure, Doctor Who is great and there have been some great drama series from our publicly-funded friends over the years, but on balance, it's clearly Channel 4 that has the best stuff.
Spaced, Black Books, Brass Eye, Peep Show — there's a veritable plethora of excellent shows out there, most of them in the comedy genre, and the vast majority of which involve –and are written by — the same people.
The latest Channel 4 show to be up and coming is Fresh Meat, a new show from the creators of Peep Show. Peep Show is known for featuring that uniquely British brand of uncomfortable humour, and Fresh Meat continues that tradition suitably aptly, though with something of a more surreal edge at times.
The show is based around a small ensemble cast of first-year students, and is mostly set in their shared house where they've been thrown together as tends to happen in the early days of university. The setup is perfect for some character-based comedy, and writers Jesse Armstrong and Sam Bain take full advantage of this fact. The characters have some great chemistry between them, and each of them is just bizarre enough to be memorable without crossing the line into complete stupidity. Highlight of the show has to be Howard, a Scotsman of indeterminate age who has lived in the shared house for longer than he perhaps should have. Howard is introduced drying off some chickens (if I remember correctly) with a hair-dryer, while not wearing any pants.
Ironically, throughout the subsequent episodes, it's Howard that turns out to be, if anything, the most normal, sensible of the characters. Man-eating Vod regularly overindulges in various chemical substances and isn't quite aware of what she's doing; Oregon is self-consciously trying not to be lame (and ends up regularly cracking those jokes that no-one ever laughs at); Josie and Kingsley have an infuriating will they-won't they relationship and Jack Whitehall's JP character is endearingly obnoxious.
If nothing else, it's nice to see a show based around a cast of students which doesn't take itself too seriously. It's all too easy for shows to get caught up in interpersonal relationships and betrayal and whatnot, and before you know it you're Hollyoaks. And no-one wants to be Hollyoaks. Thankfully, Fresh Meat is not Hollyoaks.
It's early days for the new show as yet, but early indications are promising. It's amusing and filled with entertainingly puerile gags in a Peep Show/The Inbetweeners sort of style, but has a good sense of an unfolding plot, strong characters and a pleasing cameo appearance from Robert Webb.
If you haven't had a chance to check out the show yet, UK residents can catch up with it on YouTube.
I've been blogging since July of 2008. Actually, that's not quite true — I've been blogging a lot longer than that, but had a couple of other websites prior to this one. To my knowledge, only one of them is still there, and that was a somewhat abortive effort. This site, then, represents one of the most consistent creative endeavours that I've ever undertaken.
For what, though? What is it achieving? I'm certainly not making any great effort to ponce around with anything like search engine optimisation and the limit of my attempts to "drive traffic" consist of auto-posting each entry to Facebook and Twitter as a link for people to click through to. And yet, here I am, day after day, writing something for anywhere between — most weeks — 20 and 100 people. 24 of you readers are subscribed by email, meaning you get a daily dose of nonsense posted direct to your inbox (and possibly don't count against my views count, you bastards, unless you actually do, in which case you're not bastards, and I don't really care anyway) and I have no idea how many more might be subscribed via RSS.
As I've said on a few other occasions, though, the main reason I'm writing all this gobbledegook day after day is for myself. I'm not sure if I'll be looking back on this content in a few years time and figuring out something profound about myself or not, but I certainly like having it all there — and knowing that there are 629 daily posts before this one (and a few more irregular ones prior to that) is quite satisfying.
I like reading back old things that I've written. I don't keep all old pieces of writing that I do, but I have some knocking around that date back to my school days, which are a good few years ago now. It's sometimes interesting to look back and read your work and consider what might have been going through your mind at the time — or what inspired you to write a particular work.
I think the oldest piece of writing I've still hung onto is the Woolworths notebook that my friend Edd and I took on holiday to Gran Canaria. It was 1992, and we were in Year 7. That holiday was memorable for all sorts of reasons — the cockroach attack in the middle of the night, the discovery of Mortal Kombat and X-Men in the local arcade, our first experiences snorkelling. And most of it is entertainingly chronicled in the dodgy handwriting of the 11-12 year old me.
The way you write changes over the years, even if you're not a writer and if you don't do it often. Old people using computers forget how to use capital letters and punctuation (except the exclamation mark, which they use with gay abandon) while some develop a clear sense of style and voice according to who they're writing to. When you're twelve, however, most of your writing is written in the same register, however many English lessons on formal and informal letters you might have had. My old notebook is a fine example of this, sharing details of stupid in-jokes that Edd and I had at the time, the context of which has been mostly lost to the mists of time save for the written record of the fact that we did indeed compose a short song called "I'm an egg-timer" together and that we found it inexplicably amusing to hum the theme tune from the Whiskas cat food advert while descending a water slide.
Don't ask. I have no idea.
I wonder if in twenty years' time — firstly, will this site still be around or will we all have switched to something like the OASIS platform in Ready Player One? — I'll still be writing in the same manner. Perhaps I will — in some senses, even though I'm (painfully) aware that I'm thirty years old, in others I feel like I haven't grown up a whole lot. There's still a ton of things about the world that I don't know or don't understand, and a lot of people seem to have a firmer grasp on them than me — or, more likely, simply do a better job of hiding the fact that they're overwhelmed by everything out there.
Arguably part of this feeling of "immaturity", for want of a better word, is writing this every day. When I'm writing some nonsense here, I can just sort of "let go" and channel that twelve year old kid who felt the need to chronicle everything on a holiday with a friend. I'm under no obligations to write in a particular style or follow the AP Style Guide or whatever (though you'll notice I do make an effort to spell and punctuate correctly, typos aside) so I can just sit back (well, forward, otherwise I can't reach the keyboard) and type whatever is in my head onto the virtual page in front of me.
This is a nice feeling, and that's why I do this day after day. I appreciate those of you who keep coming back to read my ramblings, I really do. But the act of writing, of self-expressions, of, in some cases, being able to write things that are difficult to talk about out loud — that's why I do it. It makes me feel good, makes me feel like I have an outlet and am free to express myself however I see fit. And sure, anyone reading can and will judge me based on the things I write. And that's fine, because after all, I'm posting all this for public consumption. But more than that, this is something for me. This is me. And if you've come along for the ride here and read the last six hundred and whatever posts, you probably know me pretty damn well by now.
If, however, you're new, the archives are on the right hand side. I'll see you in a few months.
"Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do," said Steve Jobs to a group of Stanford University graduates during a commencement speech in 2005. "If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on."
Wise words from a great man — who sadly passed away yesterday, aged just 56. I'm actually quite sad about this because, although I obviously didn't know the man personally, he's had a profound impact on my life. I'm not the only one, either — this morning various social networks are filling up with tributes to Jobs, his life and the influence that his company Apple's products have had on their lives. My good buddy AJ Minotti, for example, noted that he's been podcasting with his brother for four years now — and this is longer than anything else he's ever committed himself to in his life, whether that's work, school or relationships. Podcasting defines him, and although podcasting may well have come along in a different form with a different name had Apple not pushed it as a publishing medium, in his mind it's inextricably associated with Jobs and Apple as a whole.
For me, my exposure to Apple products began with an early stint as a freelance writer for the Official Nintendo Magazine in the UK. I was putting together walkthroughs for Turok 2, Star Wars: Battle for Naboo and Banjo-Tooie. To take screen grabs from these titles, I had to play the game through a video capture card linked to a Mac and take shots from the video feed as I played through. I'm not sure exactly why they used the (then-OS 9 sporting) Macs for their office work, but I guess it was due to the supposedly common knowledge that Mac software was good for creative and design work.
Subsequently, I got myself an iPod with a 20GB hard drive. At the time, I couldn't imagine ever being able to fill it — but having graduated to it from a 32MB (yes, really) MP3 player it was a revelation to be able to carry that much music around with me in my pocket. I took it everywhere with me, and it lasted a good few years, too. It moved house with me several times, remained an almost permanent attachment to my car stereo and joined me at the gym on many occasions. I came to know and love the music on it and, to this day, that first iPod is one of my favourite pieces of technology I've ever owned.
After joining Apple back in 2007, I got my first exposure to the modern OSX Mac, and I was instantly smitten. Here was a system that ran smoothly and efficiently, did what I wanted it to do with minimum fuss and yet still remained powerful enough to let you tweak it as you saw fit. The online community agreed, too, and Macs remain a great platform for independent publishers to release awesome and useful applications, utilities and — to a lesser extent, admittedly — games.
It was the creativity side of things that really grabbed me though. Apple's iLife suite was excellent, allowing you to do things that many inexperienced users who came through the doors of the store assumed to be difficult, challenging or demanding on their computers. Things like editing and organising photos; editing video; making a DVD; or producing professional sounding music — all of it was within reach of the average user, and all of those applications gave users a firm understanding of the concepts they'd need to be familiar with prior to graduating on to more advanced, professional software.
When my role changed from the in-store "Mac Specialist" salesperson position to the in-store "Creative" personal trainer position, I got to spend all day every day working with these applications, teaching people how to use them, presenting workshops and tutorials on them with genuine enthusiasm — I believed in these products because I'd used them extensively myself — and even training new members of staff on what they needed to know about the computers and their applications. It was, for a very long time, absolutely the best job I ever had, and I felt very much what Steve described when he was addressing those Stanford graduates in 2005. I'm sorry that I had to leave — but, without going into too many details, poor in-store leadership that seemingly rejected many of the core values of the Apple credo meant that I, and several others, saw little choice but to move on to pastures new. In my case, this pretty much marked the "beginning of the end" for me, as from that point I was to only have one more short-term teaching job before a year of unemployment and the collapse of my marriage — along with my life as I knew it, of course. I won't lie — I regret some of the choices I made back then, but what's passed is passed, and you can't change what's already gone by.
Besides, nowadays things are seemingly back on track, of course. In Apple terms, I still use my Mac every day for work. While it's getting on in years a bit and, like a faithful old dog, is a little sickly and decides not to do what it's told at times — Apple products don't break, you know, yeah, right — it's still my weapon of choice for all sorts of things: browsing the web, working on documents, working with photos, making music. While I have my PC for gaming, now, Macs will always be a part of my life, as will my trusty iPhone, which never leaves my side.
In short, Steve Jobs has — at least indirectly — had a profound impact on my life. As an employee, he was an inspirational leader with an obvious vision for where he wanted the company to go, and even for those who aren't Apple "fanboys" it's difficult to deny that he was a figure in the tech industry who commanded — demanded — respect. He will be greatly missed by all — whether they knew him personally or not.
Farewell, Mr Jobs — and thank you for the good times.
I've seen a fair bit of negativity floating around surrounding Spotify's new (optional) integration with Facebook — for those unfamiliar with the changes, Facebook now has a new Music dashboard which broadcasts the details of what you're listening to from services such as Spotify in real time and provides links for other people to go and listen for themselves.
I've seen several people on several social networks decry this as some sort of gross invasion of privacy, but I can't help feeling they're missing the point in a number of different areas.
Firstly, the whole "Facebook privacy" concern thing is something of a moot point when you consider the point of the site — it's a social network designed to let people connect with each other and share things, whether that's a banal status update, what album they're listening to or the fact they unlocked an achievement in The Binding of Isaac. What you share on there is, ultimately, up to you, and if you're worried about your details being online then — there's no simpler way to say this — don't put them online. Facebook doesn't belong to you. It's never claimed to be a private network and, in many ways, locking yourself in a walled garden when using a social network defeats the object somewhat — if you just want to use it with close friends and family then you might as well just use email.
Taking the music thing specifically, Facebook integration is an excellent idea. Consider how we used to consume music in the pre-Internet days. We'd listen to the radio, watch Top of the Pops, talk with our friends. We might have friends over and listen to a particular band's latest album together — we'd certainly talk about it the following day at school, in the office, wherever you happened to be spending most of your time. Buying a new album was an event — these days, music is just "there", it's just something to have on in the background and people don't think twice about buying a track here, a track there without any thought of its context as part of a larger album. As part of this evolution, the whole real-world social aspect of music has been somewhat diminished.
Which is why embracing online socialisation is a good thing. Your personal musical tastes — key word personal — are your own individual thing, and there's very little reason why you shouldn't want to share them with fellow listeners. In fact, Spotify has always been set up to encourage the discovery and sharing of new tracks thanks to its Spotify URLs and ability to share on Facebook, Twitter and other services. The automatic broadcasting of what you're listening to right now is simply an evolution and automation of the process. And, if you're embarrassed about your musical tastes, then you can always turn the facility off.
Facebook is guilty of many things — pointless interface redesigns, a bizarre definition of what "Top News" is, fiddling around with settings behind your back without telling you and gradually building up a near-monopoly on the social Web — but one thing it has always done over the years is do exactly what it set out to do — provide an online social network with which you can communicate and share with your friends. The precise definition of what you can (and what is worth) sharing has changed and grown over the years — but why shouldn't music be a key part of that? And why, if the infrastructure's already there to do so, shouldn't that process be automatic?
You're very welcome to look at my Music page — here it is.
I've seen a fair bit of negativity floating around surrounding Spotify's new (optional) integration with Facebook — for those unfamiliar with the changes, Facebook now has a new Music dashboard which broadcasts the details of what you're listening to from services such as Spotify in real time and provides links for other people to go and listen for themselves.