The Observer, March 18, 2005
Volume XXXVII, Issue 21
iPod nation: What is in your pocket?
Ah, the iPod. Step outside Nord any day of the week and you're bound to be greeted by a veritable sea of entranced, intoxicated faces framed by telltale white headphones. After just four years on the market, the iPod has become like a Tamagotchi for grownups, or like those really awesome pogs that you'd never be willing to swap. But where did the iPod phenomenon come from? What makes the iPod any better than other portable music players? What does "iPod" even mean?
In 2002, Apple (the smug creators of the iPod, in case you've been living under a rock) released its "second generation" iPod, the first to be compatible with both Macs and PCs. They didn't stop there, though. The original iPod is now in its fourth incarnation, the Mini, its teeny colored counterpart in its second, and Apple shows no sign of slowing down – just three months ago, its latest, the severed-index-finger-sized iPod shuffle, hit the market, setting off a Mac-feeding frenzy that has yet to stop.
But the iPod certainly isn't the only pocket-sized music player on the market. Creative sells an iPod clone, the Zen Touch, for less; their mini wannabe, the Zen Micro, comes with one gigabyte more than the iPod mini for the same price, and in three times as many colors. Each has a touch pad and an interface similar to the iPod's – so why don't we see them everywhere? Most likely because Apple's marketing tramples every other company's. Not to mention the fact that the social ramifications of owning an iPod are huge. Life changing, even. The increasingly judgemental tone of our entire society is probably a direct result of iPod envy: studies in New York City have shown an increase in muggings of people sporting white headphones. And with the release of the iPod Shuffle and a price reduction on the iPod Mini it has now become that much easier to attain the-white-ear bud status symbol – Apple's cheapest iPod is only $99 and is so small it has already begun appearing on red carpets as a token accessory, along the lines of the teacup Chihuahua.
So what, really, is so great about the iPod?
The genius is in the design. Much like thongs, users and casual viewers marvel at how Apple can do so much with so little. iPods are sleek and simple looking, but pack 10,000 songs and playlists for every occasion into their tiny curved-but-rectagular cases. In my own personal research on the effects of iPod ownership on college students, I've heard it most often described as having a soundtrack to your life, as a quick way to pump up before daunting tests (my song of choice is "Fighter"), and also as a way to avoid having to talk to people when walking around campus.
From here, there are only two paths for the iPod. It will either fade into sheepish obscurity like the Tamagotchi or the Furby, gathering dust in the basements of the avant-garde. Or it will, as it continues to do, render obsolete all other incarnations of portable music devices, much like the DVD player has done to the VCR. Call it technological Darwinism.
