ABC Dig Music

I grew up through the era of (just at the end, mind) 78 records that couldn't hold much music, hence 'albums' of 78s allowing a more extensive listen (to mainly classical music).

Then came little 45 singles (with 33 LPs mainly comprising a collection of tracks, and flipsides from singles).

But by the mid to late 60s the album was reborn - a whole LP devoted to a collection of songs all linked in some way (perhaps as a 'concept album' or even 'rock opera', but more often just the general feel coming from a recording session).

The problem was, microgroove records were fraught with problems (something that leaves me in disbelief about the current vinyl revival) - scratches, pops, jumps soon rendered your pristine record into a second rate audio source.

What seemed to be the new saviour, cassette tapes weren't much better, with their inferior sound, hiss, inability to select tracks, and then, the stretched tape and tangled messes.

Then, the miracle of the CD! Nearly an hour of continuous music in glorious, perpetually clean sound on a seemingly indestructible (though, as many discovered to their chagrin) little disc. The album prospered.

For me, the ability to download single digital songs, to cherry-pick tracks (which will kill the concept of the album), to store them on a computer or iPod, however convenient this is - and I admit that it is - will never replace the pleasure of consciously selecting a CD, putting it on, kicking back, listening to the whole sequence of music that has been lovingly recorded and collated by an artist and reading the booklet notes or appreciating the cover art.

Long live the CD.

Among the numerous points I make in my history of 1960s Australian pop music, 'The music goes round my head' due for release in late August/early September I regretfully note that many local singers of that era chose to adopt the American twang. Whether it was unconscious, inherited from the decades of American influence since the 1850s gold rush, or a deliberate emulation, hoping that Australian music could surreptitiously take its place on the world stage (or, worse, fearing that it couldn't survive locally), I personally believe this artifice to be totally unnecessary. While the exaggerated Strine accents of some are equally, cringingly artificial, no-one can deny that, for example, Rolf Harris's, Judith Durham's, Peter Garrett's or Shane Howard's singing styles are not simply extensions of their natural speaking voices. Aboriginal artists predominantly shun any imported affectations, naturally projecting their own distinctive inflections. And it's refreshing to hear local hip hop artists beginning to eschew black American idiosyncrasies. So sing out proudly Aussies - you may just discover that fame can come from being just that little bit different, not just the same as everyone else.