I've always wanted to be in control of my music.
Going back to the late '70s, I've made mix tapes (we called them variety tapes), carefully choosing songs and putting them in a selected order. As technology improved, variety cassettes became variety CDs, burned with my artistic control.
I even went as far as reordering how tracks appeared on albums. Pete Townshend would not be happy that I recorded "Who's Next" from my dad's turntable onto cassette, opening with "Going Mobile" instead of "Baba O'Riley."
Looking back, I realize restructuring albums was sacrilegious. An album, especially in the current age of "select-a-track-for-$0.99," is special and should be revered.
Now, my pursuit of artistic control is as simple as choosing from a directory of MP3 cuts and orchestrating a blended mix using sound-editing software. I can create a 10-hour music mix, hit play and move on with my day. But there's thought behind the mix, the order, what's played and when.
It's all about artistic control.
Maybe this is my outlet for never having learned an instrument.