Suckerpunching Serial: Are longform Podcasts in need of heavy pruning?

In a recent article by Charlie Locke on WIRED , Pandora product manager Scott Riggs explains his companies plan to start offering podcasts in addition to songs:
  
   "To cater to listeners accustomed to three-minute songs, Riggs and his team [at Pandora] break  episodes into smaller chapters, unlike the hour-long episodes available on the Podcasts app. “From a streaming perspective, we think about it as a continuous listening experience—people will listen for a bit on  their commute or at the gym,” says Riggs. “Taking an hour-long experience and breaking it into  chapters seemed like a seamless way for users to digest this content.”

Well, yeah, but doesn't breaking the narrative of a podcast like as Serial down into smaller clips - essentially sampling a podcast - kind of defeat the purpose? Serial was literally designed to be longform, that is, the producers want people to take a whole hour and listen straight through. That is actually an important part of the listening experience that effects how deeply we connect with the story and, possibly, how much of it we remember it afterwards, and for how long.

Multimedia is the other big question mark here. I wonder how many people actually go to the websites of podcasts to look at their other content. It's an auditory medium, and that makes it a fundamentally different experience than watching a TV show or Netflix (well maybe not that different from Netflix though, as Netflix is also contained within its proprietary streaming medium).  I navigated to Serial's website only once to look at the photos of the burial site. But I never went back. Why? I forgot to. And I didn't really care what they had on the web. I wanted to listen to it. I liked to listen to it.
Similarly, I do not go on other podcasts websites, like Undisclosed, or any, really . I listen to Podcasts. They end, and that's that. And to that extent, Podcasts might as well live on a separate planet from The Internet.  I think about them, and often I will actually talk to people about it face to face, in, you know, real life. Say Whaa...? Yep. Weird, I know. But maybe not so weird: To quote from the Wired article:  

“Podcasts largely rely on word of mouth,” says Anne Wootton, co-founder and CEO of Pop-Up Archive, which transcribes podcasts, and Audiosear.ch, which makes them visually searchable. “It’s much less common for people to come across an excerpt or a clip on Twitter or on Facebook.”

So, to come full circle, I agree that we need a way to share soundbites of podcasts on social media. For instance I want to comment on something at 11:50 into Undisclosed, I can only post a link to the whole podcast and tell people to fast forward to that time stamp. Plus, dragging a little slider is awkward, especially with your finger on a touchscreen.

Most people don't share podcasts because its simply a pain in the ass.

"If you want to respond to a ridiculous tweet, you can embed a GIF on Twitter. If you want to share your favorite moment from last night’s TV episode, you can upload a video on Instagram. But there’s no easy way to share podcasts, other than posting the external link to a full episode and explaining which part of it you like best. For a medium that relies on personal recommendations, that’s an especially cumbersome problem."

I agree they need to be more shareable. But I hesitate to make them available in short pre-cut clips. That is starting to seem like a bastardization of the Podcast medium. It verges on saying to the makers, "Hey, I know you spent hours crafting the flow and music and narrative of your podcast, but I know better, thank you very much. And it is important to point at that not all Podcasts are an hour long. Some are longer, like Undisclosed, or Dan Carlin's popular Hardcore History which verges on audio book territory boasting 3 hour long episodes. Some people like long, they want long.(Lets not fail to mention the countless short podcasts out there too. I've found 20-30 minutes to be a great length for a podcast (hello, Stuff You Should Know). Some people don't. In a culture with supposedly ever-shrinking attention spans, the longform medium of podcasts emerged as some kind of backlash against the soundbite society. Now that mainstream media is taking notice, thanks to Serial,  they want to have their way with it. Oh no, they say, we want to improve it! "Increase the audience!"


The question is, will this solidify the place of Podcasts in our iOS-crazed culture, or will it fragment it and commercialize the medium to such a degree that whats left is unrecognizable, it's tiny soundbites blown away into the digital netherworld of lost Snapchats and forgotten tweets?
As Ira Glass once said: Stay tuned, listeners.

The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Muzak

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The music at coffee shops is ubiquitous, and often downright god-awful. Furthermore why is it deemed necessary to have music on 24/7, and as if silence is evil. The constant music is what is evil in my opinion. Researchers say that ambient music has a pacifying, soothing effect on groups of strangers. Having something in the background that is mellow and sugary sweet, slow pop music like Adele or some acoustic tracks provides a sound buffer that fills in the physical space between people and their conversations, helping lessen the overhearing or accidental eavesdropping of private conversations that are often why we go to coffee shops at all. Well, to have them and to over hear them.

            Next time you see me, you may want to move to a different area or lower your voice. You may end up in a story or essay, of course I would change key bits to protect you, don't worry!

            Ever sit in a cafe when the music is not on and felt the weird silence? Isn't it awkward? It feels wrong in way, almost dead. Empty of life and passion, like some cold warehouse or test-taking classroom where words float up to the ceiling and die, where the slightest noise, a chair scooting, a saucer clattering into a bus tub, or a pen falling, seem freighted with undue meaning and all eyes jump to the guilty party, eyes narrow and become dagger-like.

            It's true that some coffee shops that play good music, and some that play banal commercial shit. Some seem to play the same dozen songs over and over for literally years without changing the playlists once. How is this possible? Researches, no doubt, probably say that people crave security, and predictability, or reliable. A place they can count on to be familiar in every aspect, hence the proliferation of Starbucks.

            A simple solution is wearing ear-buds or noise canceling headphones, or even just osha approved earplugs. This may make you seem anti-social, but sacrifices must be made to counteract the poisoning effect of the music. If it is this bad for the casual customer who usually stays for anywhere from half-an-hour to no more than a few hours, imagine the effects on the minds of the employees who are subjected to it non-stop day in and day out.

            I worked in a busy independent coffee shop for a few years during college, and the constant stream of contemporary acoustic satellite radio pumped from the ceiling speakers tumbled onto a my head like hot coals. It was the mostly made up of tepid remixes of bad songs. Even if it was originally a good song, it was played to such reputation that any merits it originally had were lost. The worst perpetrator of such tunes was the Sirius satellite station known as CoffeeShop. Why did they insist on playing the same dozen songs on repeat, when the world was full of millions of unique songs? new

crap being pumped through the airwaves. Can soul music be played so much that it becomes soulless? I hated the canned music, pure and simple hatred. And hatred is a powerful emotion. More than love.

            It's easy to get on a negative trip and where I criticize everything. The problem is if that's all you do you end up looking like a pompous jerk. I'm sure we all know people like that. I see one in the mirror everyday.

            Of course there were times when I would not notice anything being distracted by work and the background music was just that , or tuned out entirely so that I could not hear it all. Other times it was all I could hear, and seemed to be drilling straight through my ears into my very soul. Call me over sensitive, but in my opinion a coffee shop should be a place to connect with people, or read a book in quiet and without a barrage of extra stimulation. Isn't our world stimulating enough? I could just stay home, you say and bask in wonderful endless silence. Believe me, I have tried that.

            This past year I done just that, I have voluntarily deprived myself of cafe's and sat alone in my cold house typing away. It was nice for a awhile, and I saved a lot of money, too. But I found myself less productive. Often I would sit and space out, much like my cat, and realize with horror that I had just killed an hour staring at a wall. Gradually, I began to doubt my former misgivings. I realized with a begrudging sense of failure, that I genuinely missed the ambient noise - the lively bustle and clatter of the coffee shop. I even, dare I say it, missed the music. I Perhaps my disdain was unfair, an over-reaction, maybe I was projecting other unrelated and un-dealt with issues onto the innocent and harmless and untouchable Muzak.

            So the other day I grabbed my backpack, slid my laptop in the back pouch, said goodbye to my cat, tipped my hat to our blank wall and hoofed down the street to the neighborhood cafe. Half a block away I swore I could already hear it, the tinny sound of Let Her Go by Passenger pulling me forward. At first I cringed, clenched my jaw.

            I had tried to let the cafe go, but I found that there are as always, trade offs to be made. At home the silence was holy, and it reigned supreme, but then I found the silence was stifling, and ironically deafening. Well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

            I opened the door and walked in, found an empty table and sat down. The gut punching melancholy of Israel Kamakawiwo’ole's "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and the hatred-melting Bubbly by Colbie Caillat washed over my head for the hundred-thousandth time. What once caused me endless frustration and gnawing hatred now just sounded harmless, even welcome, like a cup of herbal tea on a cold day. Who could resist such saccharine sounds?

            Not me. Not any longer. Like Darth Vader, I realized love is just easier than anger and hatred. Getting along is simply easier than fighting. I let the predictable acoustic ballads flood my eardrums and percolate through my whole body, the foot-tapping grooves were like running into an old buddy on the street, without the intervention of Facebook. Two hours later I realized with a newfound sense of joy a new sensation, the what was exiting my fingers in the form of sweet, satellite radio powered productivity.
Addendum: We know that background music effects a positive versus negative dining/studying experience, but does background music actually change how your food tastes?  Click on the link below to find out:
Learn about the sound of food podcast called The Sporkful