The power of Pandora

I'm quite happy right now.

I can now hear musical gems such as the theme song from Caddyshack and the theme song from Top Gun, and not feel puritanically guilty like I usually do.

That's right. I've finally found a free, legal, easy-to-use way to listen to all of the Kenny Loggins and Kenny Loggins-type music I can handle, and I am in bliss.

How am I doing this, you might ask? Well, it's all thanks to a Web-service called Pandora (pandora.com).

Pandora's Web site describes itself as the following:

"Ever since we started the Music Genome Project, our friends would ask: 'Can you help me discover more music that I'll like?' Those questions often evolved into great conversations. Each friend told us their favorite artists and songs, explored the music we suggested, gave us feedback, and we in turn made new suggestions. Everybody started joking that we were now their personal DJs. We created Pandora so that we can have that same kind of conversation with you."

I get the sense that Pandora had what I might call "humble beginnings." Humble, in the sense that its creators were probably just living out of their friend's garage, subsiding on Frosted Flakes and making spork jewelry to supplement their music recommendation income.

I imagine that the "conversations" referred to went something like this:

Reasonably successful friend: Can you help me discover more music that I'll like?

Hippie: Sure. Can you spot us a fiver so we can buy more Frosted Flakes? (brandishes broken spork to emphasize plight)

Reasonably successful friend: Okay.

Hippie: Here. It's a Yo La Tengo mix tape. I know how much you love Hoboken-based indie-rock.

Reasonably successful friend: Thanks. I don't. Can you leave my garage now?

Hippie: No way. We're having a bikram yoga class next to the boiler.

I especially like the line that says "everybody started joking that we were now their personal DJs."

I bet those jokes were the hollow laughter of people saying, "We joke about you being our DJs because we know in our hearts that DJs are people who actually have jobs. Reconfiguring your chi flow next to my dad's lawn mower is not a job."

The way the service works is that you input a song or an artist that you like and Pandora uses its massive database to find artists with similar musical qualities. It then creates a virtual "radio station" of music that expresses similar qualities to those of the input song or artist that you supplied.

This is where the Music Genome Project apparently kicks in. As Pandora works to choose your next song it provides cheerful information about its selection process:

"You've told us that you like music from people who are tone deaf. Please wait while Pandora tries to find more music by people who are tone deaf. This shouldn't be too hard."

Pandora is a great way to inject new life into a stagnating music collection. By providing it with some simple input one can discover worlds of previously untried artists.

For example, I once told Pandora that a song I liked was "I Would Do Anything For Love" by Meat Loaf. Pandora said, "please wait while we try to find new music with similar qualities." Then it played "I Would Do Anything For Love (Live)" by Meat Loaf.

Another great feature of Pandora is the Roman Emperor rating system. For any song that is playing one can choose either thumbs up or thumbs down rating.

Thumbs up tells Pandora "I like this song and its characteristics, please play it and songs like it more often."

Thumbs down says "cease subjecting me to this wretched piece of filth. Find the artist and inform him that his work is bland and derivative. Also, if possible, arrange to have his children wedgied on the playground of their choice."

Putting such power in the hands of people is a wonderful thing. It makes me wonder why more people don't use it the way I do: to rock out to Kenny Loggins at irresponsible volume levels.