Unshazamable
Plus a special edition of The Heard
* Great responses are coming in for March’s Savor of the Month prompt: Public Text. Join in here!
Today, a couple of open-earedness items.
I was listening to latest episode of WFMU’s Downtown Soulville when DJ Mr. Fine Wine described the CD he is offering as a premium for supporters of his show in the station’s current fund drive. The show features (often rare) soul and R&B on 45s, and so does the CD — songs like “Doo Plus Two” by Dicky Doo and the Don’ts. Out of 25 songs on the disc, Fine Wine noted, Shazam (the popular song-identification app) recognized only six or seven. The rest, he mused, were “unshazamable.”
I liked this term, so I looked into it. Turns out that it’s been in use since at least the late 2010s, referring to music that Shazam doesn’t recognize and thus has a sort of “off the grid” connotation — and appeal.
This is partly a tribute to how astonishingly good Shazam is. I use it all the time, and I’m always surprised on those occasions when it’s stumped.
But that aside, maybe it’s also a handy term for something bigger.
Everybody complains (understandably!) about the algorithms that shape our entertainment choices and direct our attention. But seeking the unshazmable isn’t just a way of escaping the algorithm. The unshazamable isn’t even in the database that the algorithm is designed to mine!
Tapping into something enjoyable that didn’t come from a database doesn’t have to take the form of consuming a particular cultural object like a rare song; it could be an experience, a moment of presence. Looking at the moon can be unshazamable.
So this week, be alert to, and try to appreciate, unshazamable things — in the broadest sense of the term!
THE HEARD
Sharing one randomly overheard song that I’ve enjoyed lately: Little unexpected bursts of delightful music are definitely things I savor.
Speaking of WFMU (yes, I am a regular supporter), I was listening to Wreck Your Own Adventure on the station’s Give the Drummer Radio stream when “Sleep a Million Years,” by Kathy Heideman, caught my ear. I had never heard of the singer, and I couldn’t place whether the song’s country/Americana sound was something contemporary or more vintage. I looked into it and found a couple of articles that gave the back story, which turned out to be a great case study in open-earedness.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to The Art of Noticing to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.

