I've finally managed to do it. I've bought my first original MP3. Off Amazon, I paid the grand amount of 0.99 dollars for Snow Patrol's "Chasing Cars". It's a particularly addictive number because it is so incredibly sad somehow. Not the dopey, high as a kite sadness of a Floyd number, but a more real everyday sadness, a mild fever that dogs you through the day, incurable because of it's lack of outward symptoms.
The band, their site says spent 15 years in the dusty backhalls of music superstardom and in the stifling grip of a niche audience before getting their due in this monster hit. Would they really feel the drop in the ocean of money that their music now is, my own hard-earned 99 cents? Will they ever be grateful for that extra dollar that they earned? I don't really care. Their story is inspiring in so many ways. An artistic creation takes so much out of a person, it's like giving a pound of their own flesh. For long, I have regretted being amongst the cheapskates who'd gobble up anything if it's for free but wouldn't be caught dead spending a buck on something which has really earned it. I managed to jump that divide today and make my teeny-weeny contribution to whichever rockstar binge they might be hosting. It feels pleasant, but not in the way that charity makes you feel. It's more like repaying a mortgage made on your soul.