Does it matter if a song is AI if it strikes a chord in your soul?

The Advertiser

a day ago

This is a sample of The Echidna newsletter sent out each weekday morning. To sign up for FREE, go to theechidna.com.au
On a May evening in 1974 Jon Landau, a freelance music reviewer and failed record producer, strode excitedly out of a small Boston theatre with a message for the world. "I saw the future of rock 'n roll," he later gushed in a newspaper article, "and its name is Bruce Springsteen."
I know how Landau felt.
I've also glimpsed the future of music. And its name is The Velvet Sundown.
This prolific band of four young men appeared out of nowhere a month ago, releasing two albums filled with bluesy riffs, whisky-stained vocals and moody guitar solos that rapidly attracted more than half a million listeners on the streaming service Spotify.
Not bad for four weeks' work. With another album due out soon, the music of The Velvet Sundown - smoky '70s blues-rock with a nod to Indie pop - has been a source of warmth during this bleak and wet winter. I was hoping they might tour. Turns out that won't be happening.
The band members are not human. Neither is their music.
Their albums involved no torturous recording sessions. There were no groupies lingering outside their hotel rooms. No inspired lyrics were scribbled on cigarette-stained paper at 4am.
The Velvet Sundown are the product of artificial intelligence, a triumph of algorithm over rhythm. AI spooks us for many good reasons. But after enjoying the band's music I'm starting to worry less.
Does it really matter where a song comes from if it strikes a chord and touches you in some way?
Music, art and literature has always had a complicated relationship with authenticity. AI-generated characters and special effects fill our movies. Many of the world's greatest paintings have been copied so often the original has been lost to history. And who can forget those forged Hitler diaries that fooled so many experts?
But popular music is where the puppeteer most often pulls the strings behind the curtain. Producers have been polishing drumbeats and using auto-tune to improve errant tones for decades. Milli Vanilli mimed their way to a Grammy award until their fraud was exposed. The Monkees were actors. And The Archies, a band of cartoon characters, had a global hit in 1969 with Sugar, Sugar.
Even the ancient Greeks respected music without a human composer - their Aeolian harps produced "ethereal" and "otherworldly" sounds using only the breath of a breeze to vibrate their strings. They also dabbled with a water-powered organ called a hydraulis.
The Velvet Sundown has critics as well as fans. "This is nothing. Absolutely nothing," sniffed a typical snobbish reviewer this week. "I'm left listening to this without any remarkable feelings other than the fact that I just wasted 30 minutes."
They said much the same thing about The Beatles and Elvis when they debuted. And wasn't Bob Dylan booed in 1965 when he plugged a guitar into an amplifier for the first time?
So let's not pretend we're defending artistic purity - that quaint notion that virtuous creativity and originality only springs from a tortured soul in a dank attic sacrificing all for their art.
Rapid improvement in AI has unleashed a tsunami of artificially-generated music, art and videos on the world. Much of it is derided as slop for good reason; it exists only to lure eyeballs and eardrums in order to generate ad revenue for the anonymous creator.
But how does that compare to the oceans of generic garbage composed by humans for generations? The only difference: AI music has been trained on millions of hours of sheer human persistence and inspiration. It would be nothing without us, which is why we should continue debating the ethics and legalities of its use.
This week I looked up photographs of The Velvet Sundown. They're definitely not real. Their skin is flawless and their eyes have that dreamy faraway look, something the Japanese roboticist Masahiro Mori labelled the "Uncanny Valley" to describe the uneasy feeling we experience when encountering artificial beings that don't look quite human.
The Velvet Sundown will never sweat under stage lights or know that triumphant feeling of a heaving crowd demanding an encore.
But if a song created by an algorithm can break your heart or, better still, heal it, perhaps music and anything else we consider art still has a future after all in this increasingly artificial world of ours.
HAVE YOUR SAY: Is there a place for artificial intelligence in art and music? Are you optimistic or pessimistic about a future dominated by AI? What genre of music, or even a certain song, affects you the most? Email us: [e-mail]
SHARE THE LOVE: If you enjoy The Echidna, forward it to a friend so they can sign up, too.
IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:
- The role of men in the early childhood sector is being questioned after horrific allegations of child sexual abuse at multiple childcare centres across Melbourne. But a ban on male early childhood educators is not the right solution, experts say
- Wedding bus driver Brett Button, convicted over one of Australia's worst crashes, has appealed against his "manifestly excessive" jail sentence of 32 years, claiming he was not affected by opioids at the time of the crash.
- The popularity of one hybrid ute has also pushed low-emission vehicle brand BYD up the charts during June, helping it surpass long-time rival Tesla by a significant margin.
THEY SAID IT: "Computers and electronic music are not the opposite of warm human music. It's exactly the same." - Bill Laswell, American producer and musician.
YOU SAID IT: John said any time spent in a plane is perfect for detoxing from a relentless news cycle, and asked whether you take a break from the online world.
"Yes, let's move away from 'colour, blood and movement' news reporting," says John B. "It's what I call 'the bus crash in Peru syndrome' of TV news. It is sad for those involved and their families, but what significance to us? And can we please stop hearing about Sean Diddy Combs. His importance to major issues in the world is minimal and his relevance to Australia is just about zero. More facts, more analysis and more connection to us please."
Lois had a note for Garry: "I follow your articles every Saturday in Ballarat's The Courier and always enjoy what you have to say. The subject last week on the digital world is one I feel I must reply to. I am old enough to remember good old-fashioned communication when if you rang somebody, a real person would answer the phone. Not any more.
"If you are not asked to press buttons for whatever it is you want - and the option you do want is never there anyway - you are asked to wait and someone will be with you shortly. 'Shortly' can mean anything. Just the other day I was given a wait time of 63 minutes! I didn't comply of course - I just hung up. It is so frustrating. I tried to purchase a coffee at McDonalds drive-through. I wanted to pay by credit card or cash. But no ... I had to pay by app, whatever that is. I know I am in the minority but businesses can lose customers because of these silly rules."
And the cost of living is biting into the travel budget, says Brad. "Sorry, John, travel? Not this year. No money for that. And I wouldn't need air-WiFi anyway.Only past retailers wanting me to buy more. I am a news junkie but the mute button is wearing out."
But Murray says time in the air allows for a deep dive into distraction. "I appear to be one of the minority who actively seek the latest news, but I very rarely watch what passes for 'The News' on the mainstream channels, i.e. smartly coiffed news readers telling us what they want us to believe today. So yes, on a long flight I take the opportunity to read a new novel or some hobby magazines, maybe watch a movie and be detached from the world and its woes for a few hours."
This is a sample of The Echidna newsletter sent out each weekday morning. To sign up for FREE, go to theechidna.com.au
On a May evening in 1974 Jon Landau, a freelance music reviewer and failed record producer, strode excitedly out of a small Boston theatre with a message for the world. "I saw the future of rock 'n roll," he later gushed in a newspaper article, "and its name is Bruce Springsteen."
I know how Landau felt.
I've also glimpsed the future of music. And its name is The Velvet Sundown.
This prolific band of four young men appeared out of nowhere a month ago, releasing two albums filled with bluesy riffs, whisky-stained vocals and moody guitar solos that rapidly attracted more than half a million listeners on the streaming service Spotify.
Not bad for four weeks' work. With another album due out soon, the music of The Velvet Sundown - smoky '70s blues-rock with a nod to Indie pop - has been a source of warmth during this bleak and wet winter. I was hoping they might tour. Turns out that won't be happening.
The band members are not human. Neither is their music.
Their albums involved no torturous recording sessions. There were no groupies lingering outside their hotel rooms. No inspired lyrics were scribbled on cigarette-stained paper at 4am.
The Velvet Sundown are the product of artificial intelligence, a triumph of algorithm over rhythm. AI spooks us for many good reasons. But after enjoying the band's music I'm starting to worry less.
Does it really matter where a song comes from if it strikes a chord and touches you in some way?
Music, art and literature has always had a complicated relationship with authenticity. AI-generated characters and special effects fill our movies. Many of the world's greatest paintings have been copied so often the original has been lost to history. And who can forget those forged Hitler diaries that fooled so many experts?
But popular music is where the puppeteer most often pulls the strings behind the curtain. Producers have been polishing drumbeats and using auto-tune to improve errant tones for decades. Milli Vanilli mimed their way to a Grammy award until their fraud was exposed. The Monkees were actors. And The Archies, a band of cartoon characters, had a global hit in 1969 with Sugar, Sugar.
Even the ancient Greeks respected music without a human composer - their Aeolian harps produced "ethereal" and "otherworldly" sounds using only the breath of a breeze to vibrate their strings. They also dabbled with a water-powered organ called a hydraulis.
The Velvet Sundown has critics as well as fans. "This is nothing. Absolutely nothing," sniffed a typical snobbish reviewer this week. "I'm left listening to this without any remarkable feelings other than the fact that I just wasted 30 minutes."
They said much the same thing about The Beatles and Elvis when they debuted. And wasn't Bob Dylan booed in 1965 when he plugged a guitar into an amplifier for the first time?
So let's not pretend we're defending artistic purity - that quaint notion that virtuous creativity and originality only springs from a tortured soul in a dank attic sacrificing all for their art.
Rapid improvement in AI has unleashed a tsunami of artificially-generated music, art and videos on the world. Much of it is derided as slop for good reason; it exists only to lure eyeballs and eardrums in order to generate ad revenue for the anonymous creator.
But how does that compare to the oceans of generic garbage composed by humans for generations? The only difference: AI music has been trained on millions of hours of sheer human persistence and inspiration. It would be nothing without us, which is why we should continue debating the ethics and legalities of its use.
This week I looked up photographs of The Velvet Sundown. They're definitely not real. Their skin is flawless and their eyes have that dreamy faraway look, something the Japanese roboticist Masahiro Mori labelled the "Uncanny Valley" to describe the uneasy feeling we experience when encountering artificial beings that don't look quite human.
The Velvet Sundown will never sweat under stage lights or know that triumphant feeling of a heaving crowd demanding an encore.
But if a song created by an algorithm can break your heart or, better still, heal it, perhaps music and anything else we consider art still has a future after all in this increasingly artificial world of ours.
HAVE YOUR SAY: Is there a place for artificial intelligence in art and music? Are you optimistic or pessimistic about a future dominated by AI? What genre of music, or even a certain song, affects you the most? Email us: [e-mail]
SHARE THE LOVE: If you enjoy The Echidna, forward it to a friend so they can sign up, too.
IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:
- The role of men in the early childhood sector is being questioned after horrific allegations of child sexual abuse at multiple childcare centres across Melbourne. But a ban on male early childhood educators is not the right solution, experts say
- Wedding bus driver Brett Button, convicted over one of Australia's worst crashes, has appealed against his "manifestly excessive" jail sentence of 32 years, claiming he was not affected by opioids at the time of the crash.
- The popularity of one hybrid ute has also pushed low-emission vehicle brand BYD up the charts during June, helping it surpass long-time rival Tesla by a significant margin.
THEY SAID IT: "Computers and electronic music are not the opposite of warm human music. It's exactly the same." - Bill Laswell, American producer and musician.
YOU SAID IT: John said any time spent in a plane is perfect for detoxing from a relentless news cycle, and asked whether you take a break from the online world.
"Yes, let's move away from 'colour, blood and movement' news reporting," says John B. "It's what I call 'the bus crash in Peru syndrome' of TV news. It is sad for those involved and their families, but what significance to us? And can we please stop hearing about Sean Diddy Combs. His importance to major issues in the world is minimal and his relevance to Australia is just about zero. More facts, more analysis and more connection to us please."
Lois had a note for Garry: "I follow your articles every Saturday in Ballarat's The Courier and always enjoy what you have to say. The subject last week on the digital world is one I feel I must reply to. I am old enough to remember good old-fashioned communication when if you rang somebody, a real person would answer the phone. Not any more.
"If you are not asked to press buttons for whatever it is you want - and the option you do want is never there anyway - you are asked to wait and someone will be with you shortly. 'Shortly' can mean anything. Just the other day I was given a wait time of 63 minutes! I didn't comply of course - I just hung up. It is so frustrating. I tried to purchase a coffee at McDonalds drive-through. I wanted to pay by credit card or cash. But no ... I had to pay by app, whatever that is. I know I am in the minority but businesses can lose customers because of these silly rules."
And the cost of living is biting into the travel budget, says Brad. "Sorry, John, travel? Not this year. No money for that. And I wouldn't need air-WiFi anyway.Only past retailers wanting me to buy more. I am a news junkie but the mute button is wearing out."
But Murray says time in the air allows for a deep dive into distraction. "I appear to be one of the minority who actively seek the latest news, but I very rarely watch what passes for 'The News' on the mainstream channels, i.e. smartly coiffed news readers telling us what they want us to believe today. So yes, on a long flight I take the opportunity to read a new novel or some hobby magazines, maybe watch a movie and be detached from the world and its woes for a few hours."
This is a sample of The Echidna newsletter sent out each weekday morning. To sign up for FREE, go to theechidna.com.au
On a May evening in 1974 Jon Landau, a freelance music reviewer and failed record producer, strode excitedly out of a small Boston theatre with a message for the world. "I saw the future of rock 'n roll," he later gushed in a newspaper article, "and its name is Bruce Springsteen."
I know how Landau felt.
I've also glimpsed the future of music. And its name is The Velvet Sundown.
This prolific band of four young men appeared out of nowhere a month ago, releasing two albums filled with bluesy riffs, whisky-stained vocals and moody guitar solos that rapidly attracted more than half a million listeners on the streaming service Spotify.
Not bad for four weeks' work. With another album due out soon, the music of The Velvet Sundown - smoky '70s blues-rock with a nod to Indie pop - has been a source of warmth during this bleak and wet winter. I was hoping they might tour. Turns out that won't be happening.
The band members are not human. Neither is their music.
Their albums involved no torturous recording sessions. There were no groupies lingering outside their hotel rooms. No inspired lyrics were scribbled on cigarette-stained paper at 4am.
The Velvet Sundown are the product of artificial intelligence, a triumph of algorithm over rhythm. AI spooks us for many good reasons. But after enjoying the band's music I'm starting to worry less.
Does it really matter where a song comes from if it strikes a chord and touches you in some way?
Music, art and literature has always had a complicated relationship with authenticity. AI-generated characters and special effects fill our movies. Many of the world's greatest paintings have been copied so often the original has been lost to history. And who can forget those forged Hitler diaries that fooled so many experts?
But popular music is where the puppeteer most often pulls the strings behind the curtain. Producers have been polishing drumbeats and using auto-tune to improve errant tones for decades. Milli Vanilli mimed their way to a Grammy award until their fraud was exposed. The Monkees were actors. And The Archies, a band of cartoon characters, had a global hit in 1969 with Sugar, Sugar.
Even the ancient Greeks respected music without a human composer - their Aeolian harps produced "ethereal" and "otherworldly" sounds using only the breath of a breeze to vibrate their strings. They also dabbled with a water-powered organ called a hydraulis.
The Velvet Sundown has critics as well as fans. "This is nothing. Absolutely nothing," sniffed a typical snobbish reviewer this week. "I'm left listening to this without any remarkable feelings other than the fact that I just wasted 30 minutes."
They said much the same thing about The Beatles and Elvis when they debuted. And wasn't Bob Dylan booed in 1965 when he plugged a guitar into an amplifier for the first time?
So let's not pretend we're defending artistic purity - that quaint notion that virtuous creativity and originality only springs from a tortured soul in a dank attic sacrificing all for their art.
Rapid improvement in AI has unleashed a tsunami of artificially-generated music, art and videos on the world. Much of it is derided as slop for good reason; it exists only to lure eyeballs and eardrums in order to generate ad revenue for the anonymous creator.
But how does that compare to the oceans of generic garbage composed by humans for generations? The only difference: AI music has been trained on millions of hours of sheer human persistence and inspiration. It would be nothing without us, which is why we should continue debating the ethics and legalities of its use.
This week I looked up photographs of The Velvet Sundown. They're definitely not real. Their skin is flawless and their eyes have that dreamy faraway look, something the Japanese roboticist Masahiro Mori labelled the "Uncanny Valley" to describe the uneasy feeling we experience when encountering artificial beings that don't look quite human.
The Velvet Sundown will never sweat under stage lights or know that triumphant feeling of a heaving crowd demanding an encore.
But if a song created by an algorithm can break your heart or, better still, heal it, perhaps music and anything else we consider art still has a future after all in this increasingly artificial world of ours.
HAVE YOUR SAY: Is there a place for artificial intelligence in art and music? Are you optimistic or pessimistic about a future dominated by AI? What genre of music, or even a certain song, affects you the most? Email us: [e-mail]
SHARE THE LOVE: If you enjoy The Echidna, forward it to a friend so they can sign up, too.
IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:
- The role of men in the early childhood sector is being questioned after horrific allegations of child sexual abuse at multiple childcare centres across Melbourne. But a ban on male early childhood educators is not the right solution, experts say
- Wedding bus driver Brett Button, convicted over one of Australia's worst crashes, has appealed against his "manifestly excessive" jail sentence of 32 years, claiming he was not affected by opioids at the time of the crash.
- The popularity of one hybrid ute has also pushed low-emission vehicle brand BYD up the charts during June, helping it surpass long-time rival Tesla by a significant margin.
THEY SAID IT: "Computers and electronic music are not the opposite of warm human music. It's exactly the same." - Bill Laswell, American producer and musician.
YOU SAID IT: John said any time spent in a plane is perfect for detoxing from a relentless news cycle, and asked whether you take a break from the online world.
"Yes, let's move away from 'colour, blood and movement' news reporting," says John B. "It's what I call 'the bus crash in Peru syndrome' of TV news. It is sad for those involved and their families, but what significance to us? And can we please stop hearing about Sean Diddy Combs. His importance to major issues in the world is minimal and his relevance to Australia is just about zero. More facts, more analysis and more connection to us please."
Lois had a note for Garry: "I follow your articles every Saturday in Ballarat's The Courier and always enjoy what you have to say. The subject last week on the digital world is one I feel I must reply to. I am old enough to remember good old-fashioned communication when if you rang somebody, a real person would answer the phone. Not any more.
"If you are not asked to press buttons for whatever it is you want - and the option you do want is never there anyway - you are asked to wait and someone will be with you shortly. 'Shortly' can mean anything. Just the other day I was given a wait time of 63 minutes! I didn't comply of course - I just hung up. It is so frustrating. I tried to purchase a coffee at McDonalds drive-through. I wanted to pay by credit card or cash. But no ... I had to pay by app, whatever that is. I know I am in the minority but businesses can lose customers because of these silly rules."
And the cost of living is biting into the travel budget, says Brad. "Sorry, John, travel? Not this year. No money for that. And I wouldn't need air-WiFi anyway.Only past retailers wanting me to buy more. I am a news junkie but the mute button is wearing out."
But Murray says time in the air allows for a deep dive into distraction. "I appear to be one of the minority who actively seek the latest news, but I very rarely watch what passes for 'The News' on the mainstream channels, i.e. smartly coiffed news readers telling us what they want us to believe today. So yes, on a long flight I take the opportunity to read a new novel or some hobby magazines, maybe watch a movie and be detached from the world and its woes for a few hours."
This is a sample of The Echidna newsletter sent out each weekday morning. To sign up for FREE, go to theechidna.com.au
On a May evening in 1974 Jon Landau, a freelance music reviewer and failed record producer, strode excitedly out of a small Boston theatre with a message for the world. "I saw the future of rock 'n roll," he later gushed in a newspaper article, "and its name is Bruce Springsteen."
I know how Landau felt.
I've also glimpsed the future of music. And its name is The Velvet Sundown.
This prolific band of four young men appeared out of nowhere a month ago, releasing two albums filled with bluesy riffs, whisky-stained vocals and moody guitar solos that rapidly attracted more than half a million listeners on the streaming service Spotify.
Not bad for four weeks' work. With another album due out soon, the music of The Velvet Sundown - smoky '70s blues-rock with a nod to Indie pop - has been a source of warmth during this bleak and wet winter. I was hoping they might tour. Turns out that won't be happening.
The band members are not human. Neither is their music.
Their albums involved no torturous recording sessions. There were no groupies lingering outside their hotel rooms. No inspired lyrics were scribbled on cigarette-stained paper at 4am.
The Velvet Sundown are the product of artificial intelligence, a triumph of algorithm over rhythm. AI spooks us for many good reasons. But after enjoying the band's music I'm starting to worry less.
Does it really matter where a song comes from if it strikes a chord and touches you in some way?
Music, art and literature has always had a complicated relationship with authenticity. AI-generated characters and special effects fill our movies. Many of the world's greatest paintings have been copied so often the original has been lost to history. And who can forget those forged Hitler diaries that fooled so many experts?
But popular music is where the puppeteer most often pulls the strings behind the curtain. Producers have been polishing drumbeats and using auto-tune to improve errant tones for decades. Milli Vanilli mimed their way to a Grammy award until their fraud was exposed. The Monkees were actors. And The Archies, a band of cartoon characters, had a global hit in 1969 with Sugar, Sugar.
Even the ancient Greeks respected music without a human composer - their Aeolian harps produced "ethereal" and "otherworldly" sounds using only the breath of a breeze to vibrate their strings. They also dabbled with a water-powered organ called a hydraulis.
The Velvet Sundown has critics as well as fans. "This is nothing. Absolutely nothing," sniffed a typical snobbish reviewer this week. "I'm left listening to this without any remarkable feelings other than the fact that I just wasted 30 minutes."
They said much the same thing about The Beatles and Elvis when they debuted. And wasn't Bob Dylan booed in 1965 when he plugged a guitar into an amplifier for the first time?
So let's not pretend we're defending artistic purity - that quaint notion that virtuous creativity and originality only springs from a tortured soul in a dank attic sacrificing all for their art.
Rapid improvement in AI has unleashed a tsunami of artificially-generated music, art and videos on the world. Much of it is derided as slop for good reason; it exists only to lure eyeballs and eardrums in order to generate ad revenue for the anonymous creator.
But how does that compare to the oceans of generic garbage composed by humans for generations? The only difference: AI music has been trained on millions of hours of sheer human persistence and inspiration. It would be nothing without us, which is why we should continue debating the ethics and legalities of its use.
This week I looked up photographs of The Velvet Sundown. They're definitely not real. Their skin is flawless and their eyes have that dreamy faraway look, something the Japanese roboticist Masahiro Mori labelled the "Uncanny Valley" to describe the uneasy feeling we experience when encountering artificial beings that don't look quite human.
The Velvet Sundown will never sweat under stage lights or know that triumphant feeling of a heaving crowd demanding an encore.
But if a song created by an algorithm can break your heart or, better still, heal it, perhaps music and anything else we consider art still has a future after all in this increasingly artificial world of ours.
HAVE YOUR SAY: Is there a place for artificial intelligence in art and music? Are you optimistic or pessimistic about a future dominated by AI? What genre of music, or even a certain song, affects you the most? Email us: [e-mail]
SHARE THE LOVE: If you enjoy The Echidna, forward it to a friend so they can sign up, too.
IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:
- The role of men in the early childhood sector is being questioned after horrific allegations of child sexual abuse at multiple childcare centres across Melbourne. But a ban on male early childhood educators is not the right solution, experts say
- Wedding bus driver Brett Button, convicted over one of Australia's worst crashes, has appealed against his "manifestly excessive" jail sentence of 32 years, claiming he was not affected by opioids at the time of the crash.
- The popularity of one hybrid ute has also pushed low-emission vehicle brand BYD up the charts during June, helping it surpass long-time rival Tesla by a significant margin.
THEY SAID IT: "Computers and electronic music are not the opposite of warm human music. It's exactly the same." - Bill Laswell, American producer and musician.
YOU SAID IT: John said any time spent in a plane is perfect for detoxing from a relentless news cycle, and asked whether you take a break from the online world.
"Yes, let's move away from 'colour, blood and movement' news reporting," says John B. "It's what I call 'the bus crash in Peru syndrome' of TV news. It is sad for those involved and their families, but what significance to us? And can we please stop hearing about Sean Diddy Combs. His importance to major issues in the world is minimal and his relevance to Australia is just about zero. More facts, more analysis and more connection to us please."
Lois had a note for Garry: "I follow your articles every Saturday in Ballarat's The Courier and always enjoy what you have to say. The subject last week on the digital world is one I feel I must reply to. I am old enough to remember good old-fashioned communication when if you rang somebody, a real person would answer the phone. Not any more.
"If you are not asked to press buttons for whatever it is you want - and the option you do want is never there anyway - you are asked to wait and someone will be with you shortly. 'Shortly' can mean anything. Just the other day I was given a wait time of 63 minutes! I didn't comply of course - I just hung up. It is so frustrating. I tried to purchase a coffee at McDonalds drive-through. I wanted to pay by credit card or cash. But no ... I had to pay by app, whatever that is. I know I am in the minority but businesses can lose customers because of these silly rules."
And the cost of living is biting into the travel budget, says Brad. "Sorry, John, travel? Not this year. No money for that. And I wouldn't need air-WiFi anyway.Only past retailers wanting me to buy more. I am a news junkie but the mute button is wearing out."
But Murray says time in the air allows for a deep dive into distraction. "I appear to be one of the minority who actively seek the latest news, but I very rarely watch what passes for 'The News' on the mainstream channels, i.e. smartly coiffed news readers telling us what they want us to believe today. So yes, on a long flight I take the opportunity to read a new novel or some hobby magazines, maybe watch a movie and be detached from the world and its woes for a few hours."