Let’s drink a toast to my old iPod.

Let’s drink a toast to my old iPod. I found my music from 2012 in a random box.

I cannot express the depths of emotion. Amy Winehouse had just gone for good and I remember thinking that lame song Somebody That I Used to Know could actually have been about her (“you said you felt so happy, you could die”). There it was, after Tears Dry On Their Own.

Nothing could console me, not because I thought Amy was such a great musician but because it was the first time that someone just a little younger than me had hit an oncoming wave of death, and absolutely everyone could see it coming but nobody could do a thing.

Because of those old emotions I had to skip every song, because everything made sense all over again, but time had made the whole experience into a kind of stale cake with dried out coloured icing.

That was a time when I thought that peppy love songs had an ironic beauty. Now I just listen to music without words, so that it stays in its lane while the world disintegrates.

Then I went online to see when Apple stopped manufacturing iPods for good, and it was exactly 10 years later, in 2022 that the last one fell off the production line. Turns out the first generation machine is worth about $30 000. Although, if you want to buy a regular old iPod you need at least $500. 

Well I’ve decided I’m not selling mine. And I’m not deleting my old song list. The ancient Egyptians mummified their kings and queens for a reason.