Mostly we are used to thinking of the internet as a means of exchanging, sharing, finding, and now as a repository of, information. It is a way to extend communication in relationships much more than it is a source of relationships. This holds true even for some of the core tech group building full time for the rest of us. In this post, when I say we, I am, as always, talking about all of us.
Our desires go far beyond information. We also need stories and fantasies, conversation and relationships. We will develop ways to fulfill these needs and desires wherever we reside. The length of time we spend anywhere outside of work is largely determined by the depth of our satisfaction.
So we began to develop ‘places’ on the internet, and we traveled between them.
If the internet became about places, and web 1.0 about spaces, then web 2.0 is about sound.
Places were for both work and play. Two way communication was multiplied for groups and enhanced by chat. We made web pages to put our stuff on, for ourselves, or to share or show off or sell our goods or services. Games became multi-player. Instead of just travelling around, we wanted destinations, places to hang out with others for a while, ways to hear more than one voice at a time.
Spaces developed as our way of both gathering together and being able to do more than just hang out. The marketplaces such as eBay and worlds such as MySpace offered both the reach of earlier travel and the satisfaction of congregation.
With the wide adoption of syndication, another threshold of group size was crossed.
Web 2.0 seemed, initially, to be about social activities and tools. The word widget, which used to be used mostly as a euphemism for case studies in business school, has become, if not quite a household, then at least a home computer room word.
As another bubble grew, and there were more start up than any single person could keep track of, so grew the number of posts protesting the resulting noise, especially after Twitter appeared. Cacophony. Overload. Someone regularly posting somewhere about burnout.
Shortly after Twitter’s early growth surge, I posted wondering whether Twitter was about stories, about starting to create more immediate connections to one another as part of living out community stories, but I now believe that this was off the mark. We’re not there yet, to the point where real community grows and create its stories everywhere, although there are certainly real, strong communities here and there.
Where we are, though, is very much about sound, and if you ‘listen’ this way, music emerges from the cacophony.
Digg may not be my thing, but it is musical. Technorati, although getting a bit discordant of late, was utterly melodic. Google’s whoosh is more like rushing rapids, fast and powerful, and possibly dangerous. Microsoft doesn’t make music, but could build sophisticated stages and amphitheaters and more. Mac users relate to their machines as to music. Twitter is the musical mix of voices at a party, and some of the best blogging networks could be compared to impromptu a cappella. The best individual voices are musical too. Library thing is a melodic widget. Even the best thoughtful and intellectual conversation has the rhythm and flow of music.
There are growing sites that don’t have much of this musical quality. It seems to me that those which exhibit the most vigor are the ones using the lure of cash registers clanging. Will they overtake the music? My answer is that it depends on how much great music we can make, and also on whether we can learn how to make music without abandoning economic reality.
This music isn’t directly formed by design or functionality, it emerges from the interaction of the participants. Of course we’ll go to sites that are more attractive and easier to use, and of course we need them, but what draws us together and orchestrates the music is a lot more than that. It’s more than entrepreneurial start up enthusiasm, too. It’s an expression of our needs and desires, just as it always has been. Next time you check out the latest offering…
Listen for the music.