Digging Through Medium Is Like Digging Through Music Crates
There’s a certain satisfaction that comes with finding a piece that speaks to you.
I grew up listening to hip-hop. I watched it evolve over the past 25 years into what it is today. As a kid, one of my favorite past times was listening to “The Underground Show” on Sunday nights.
It’s where I found new music.
Like any other radio station — whether it was hip-hop, rock, alternative, or pop — my station had the top 7 or 8 requested songs playing in constant rotation throughout the day during the week.
And sure.
The first few times you heard that one song out of the 7 or 8 you wanted to hear, it was awesome, but after the third or fourth day of hearing nothing but the same shit, it would get pretty old. It got to the point where I could pretty much predict the daily rotation of songs during the week.
But every Sunday night starting at 8 pm, my room was my church.“The Underground Show” would start and I would get nothing but new, unheard, untapped, and mostly unsigned hip-hop.
Some artists were great and some were whack. That was the beauty of the show.
There would be debates on the genre’s future, arguments over which rappers would get to that next level, and probably my favorite part: the competitions. The show would put together a few songs every week of up-and-comers to showcase every week. The audience would vote on which one deserved the crown for the week and the next week; whoever held the crown would have to go up against a new batch of contestants to keep it.
I remember I had a “track book.” I wrote down the songs with the best beats, flows, and who I thought would “make it.”
E-40 before he was the “Ambassador of the Bay,” K. Dot before he was Kendrick Lamar, and Professor Macklemore before he was Macklemore.
The show was built around raw artistry. Whenever I got that tingly feeling with chicken skin shooting up my back, I knew I had a new artist that I would be into. I’d convince my parents to take me to the music store so I could scour the aisles to dig through the crates to look for the album. If the store didn’t have it or the album hadn’t been released yet, I’d mark my track book for a drop date.
There was always this excitement of finding something new — something different — and being one of the first to hear it. It felt like being a part of that artist’s discovery process.
Obviously, now, streaming services and social media have changed that whole game, but I never lost that feeling when I hear something new that just pops — that makes your head bob uncontrollably to the beat.
At this point, I think everyone on this platform has seen the posts about Medium changing, the new algorithm being shit, people thirsty for followers, others bashing those thirsty for followers, and so on.
It’s a nice little clusterfuck of nonsense.
I relate it to when crunk music first started to get big. All of the old heads in hip-hop hated it.
Shit. I hated it at first. You couldn’t turn on the radio without hearing Lil’ Jon yell “Yeah!” or “Okay!” every other song. It was annoying, but something crazy happened.
The music evolved. The artists that could handle the scene got better, the artists that couldn’t died out, and all the while, crunk music grew on everyone.
Now, I’m not saying the constant shitposts and clickbait are going to do the same, but there is something that could be learned as these writers figure their shit out.
Because that’s all these writers are doing: they’re figuring their shit out — where their place is on this platform. Some will continue and evolve. Most will fizzle and die out.
The problem is we’ve become so spoiled with instant gratification and having the content we want spoon-fed to us that we’ve forgotten how to dig.
We forgot how to have patience.
How to look for that new writer.
How to randomly select someone’s name regardless of their story’s title and just fall into their world for a beat to see if it hits.
I think everyone needs to get back to that. We’ve gotten lazy.
This platform is evolving. We can’t stop that. And there’s something beautiful about the platform that reminds me of the days that I turned on the radio on Sunday nights to find that next artist that spoke to my soul.
Every time I open up the app, I take a journey — looking for new voices. I’ve found that when you take that time to sift through the nonsense, you start stumbling on some truly beautiful work that gives that same feeling.
Pieces like Ellie Reaves discussing the realities of being a teacher in today’s classrooms in On Being Tired, the comedic truths of Jaochim Guth in How I Stole the Idea from an Underling, the perspective of Kayla R. Minguez in I Was Given the Gift of Depression, the life lessons of Harpreet Sahota in I Thought Failure Was My Destiny Until I Realized It Made Me Who I Am Today, and the stuff introverts actually feel in Stop Telling Introverts What To Do by Natasha Nichole Lake.
Each writer keeps you hooked from their first lines and makes you say “Woah” by the time you’re done reading. Some of these writers have been around for a minute. Some haven’t. Equally, their work deserves an audience.
I am not the follow-for-a-follow type of person. I don’t believe in it. I’m more of a: “if I like your shit and it gives me that tingly feeling, I’m going to follow and keep reading” type of person.
I guess the bottom line is this: Stop bitchin’, start diggin’ and you’ll find that amazing stuff that fills your cup.
My name is Ian Rush. I’m a father, a husband, and a creative professional. I write on education, leadership, raising kids differently, writing, growth, and more.
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