I’ve always had a touch of disc jockey in me, much to the bewilderment of a series of ungrateful captive audiences.
When I got my first record player in the 1960s, I assigned myself the role of family entertainment coordinator, choosing dinner music each night for my parents and brothers. To say my taste were eclectic is a kind way of describing selections that veered jarringly from the Soundtrack to The Exorcist to early Johnny Mathis to the complete collection of the made-for-TV band The Monkees.
At college in the 70s, I took a late-night shift on the school radio station – a risky move for a morning person who started to fade by 9:30 at night. My solution to the dilemma was to play long cuts from jazz albums so I could duck out of the studio to get some fresh air and strong coffee. This strategy was at odds with my student listeners who hungered for the disco dance sounds of the Bee Gees and Donna Summer. My only regret is that the gig ended before I could spring the Exorcist soundtrack on them.
Cut to ten years ago, when friends of ours bought an Amazon Echo and introduced us to an adopted new family member named Alexa.
A voice-activated smart speaker that looks like a pillar candle, you say "Alexa, play 'Traveling Man' by Ricky Nelson" and within seconds you hear the song play. You say "Alexa, play 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight' by the Tokens," and on it comes. You say “Alexa, play ‘What A Wonderful World’ by Louis Armstrong,” and suddenly there’s Louis, as wonderful as ever.
I was mesmerized. I was dumbstruck. I was a prehistoric man in a weird new world.
A talking candle that plays music? This strange modern technology confuses and frightens me. For I am but a caveman unfrozen by scientists to experience social media, microwave omelets and the music of Lady GaGa.
My wife and I quickly bought our own Echo. The long-dormant disc jockey in me was back and with millions of songs at my fingertips, I was ready to take a test drive.
I asked for an obscure Burl Ives song from 1952 that my father liked called “One Hour Ahead of The Posse.” Alexa played it.
I asked for a cheesy Elvis Presley cover of “Old MacDonald Had A Farm” from one of his silly movies. Alexa played it.
Thinking she would have to draw the line somewhere, I asked for an old polka tune I learned from my wife’s family called “Who Stole The Keeshka?” Alexa played that, too.
I have to give her credit. Even more impressive than her sweeping musical reach, Alexa never makes me feel self-conscious when I ask to hear songs that are often more than 50 years old. In fact, aside from a slight snickering under her breath, she treats every request with the same instantaneous can-do spirit as the last.
If there are any limitations to the Echo experience, the fault lies with me, the aging disc jockey who has forgotten more than you’ll ever know. Cat Stevens, Sting, Bob Seger, Linda Ronstadt, Paul Simon. These are artists I love but can never seem to think of when I'm standing in front of my Amazon Echo requesting some music. Which is why, on a daily basis, I hear myself say, "Alexa ... play songs by James Taylor." I'm waiting for her to say, "Seriously? Again?"
Now I’ve been to other homes where the Echo is on standby, ready to enhance the lives of its adoptive owners. Strangely, some use its miracle music capacity sparingly, preferring instead to integrate it with various devices for total smart home functionality.
They say “Alexa, dim the lights to 30%” and suddenly there’s an inviting glow in the family room. They say “Alexa, turn on the fan” and a cool breeze creates convenient comfort without a search for the remote. “They say “Alexa, set a timer for 20 minutes” and when the final second tics down a pleasant pulsing sound reminds you to take the teriyaki pineapple meatballs out of the oven.
These are all impressive features, to be sure, and definitely worth trying out if you’re looking to have a virtual assistant that does virtually everything around the house you can think of. But for a lifelong wannabe DJ like me, nothing can equal the intensely thrilling ability to say “Alexa, play ‘Under The Boardwalk’ by the Drifters” and be singing along with it seconds later.
The fact that Alexa doesn’t say “Yikes – How old ARE you?” makes it even sweeter.
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