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Category Archives: Memorable Moments

An Ode to an .EXE



The rise of music sharing isn’t a social calamity involving general lawlessness; nor it is the dawn of a new age of human kindness. It’s just new opportunities linked to old motives via the right incentives. When you get that right, you can change the way people interact with one another in fairly fundamental ways, and you can shape people’s behavior around things as simple as sharing music and as complex as civic engagement. – Clay Shirky, Cognitive Surplus: Creativity and Generosity in a Connected Age (126). 


Audiogalaxy doesn’t exist anymore. The website doesn’t take you anywhere. There is no 404. It is just dead. The official Facebook page is down – only Wikipedia links and fandom pages linger. It is not coming back.

Audiogalaxy has existed in different forms and iterations. Most recently, it functioned as a music streaming service. It was a way to stream your entire mp3 collection (and multiple other file formats) and playlists from a home computer through multiple devices. A small program was installed on your computer with all the music on it, and it streamed it to your smartphone or to any other computer by simply logging into your account on the AG website. You collection stayed in one place and you could take it anywhere and everywhere. Logging into a website gave me access to the thousands of songs I loved. I didn’t need to install anything on an office computer, it didn’t upload my mp3 collection to a company’s cloud, there were no annoying or irrelevant ads, and it was completely ad free. It was, by and far, one of the greatest music-related programs I had ever encountered in my entire life. Its last day of functioning use was January 31, 2013.

Dropbox bought out the technology and the development team. It is unclear what their plans are. The Facebook page was very tight lipped about there being any sort of future for Audiogalaxy, but people speculated on possible music streaming being integrated into Dropbox. But, they work on a cloud system rather than flat-out device to device streaming. They do not exactly match in terms of technology or service. No one seems to know what they plan on doing with the AG technology or development team – not even Dropbox.  Fans were angry. While the page no longer exists, many on the Facebook page vowed to uninstall Dropbox and never use their service again.

For a bit of perspective, iTunes takes up about 200mb of space (for some reason) and comes with multiple invasive programs – some of which I don’t know the function of. Yes, it does a lot, but I’ve never had much use for it beyond playing movie trailers. It is too cumbersome and clunky for me as a music player, takes forever to load, and wants full control over your media experience.

Audiogalaxy is/was just a few megabytes and functioned beautifully – it made you forget that it was there and let you do your own thing, it simply helped.

But, there is more to this story. I had used Audiogalaxy every day for the last couple of years – but I had also used a different version of AG nearly 15 years ago.


The original program and purpose of Audiogalaxy was very different. While it was always a lightweight, mostly web-based service, it started in the post-Napster craze of music sharing that took dial-up internet by storm. Napster allowed us to look for music and files we wanted, but it did little other than to help you find a repeatable file of a song you heard on the radio (and maybe its techno remix). AG was most useful for its ability to help you find the song, album, artist, or genre and link you to related content that you would most likely enjoy. In so, it provided a landscape of musical and artistic exploration. Before Napster exploded, young people either knew about the radio, from friends who happened to know something different, or from monthly mail-order music programs (who one time accidentally sent my older brother Cannibal Corpse instead of Red Hot Chili Peppers. We loved it). These were good ways to find something new that was relatively available, but not a good way to explore unknown aesthetics and possibilities.

As mp3’s became increasingly prominent, so did too the underlying system of labeling files. ID3 tagging helped programs categorize files based on more than file names (which were often wrong, inaccurate, or victim to trolling). You could now search for popular files in the same genre, file ripper, quality, or a variety of things. Lesser known and independent artists benefited from this, as people sharing files could help pass along something to someone else with similar tastes. Audiogalaxy benefited from this cultural process immensely, integrating it into their service. There were comment boards and community groups, allowing people to connect and communicate with each other, rather than blindly sharing. A group based on a genre could link to various artists and someone in that group could sample new music based on recommendations very quickly. I learned not just about new songs or artists, but the stories and histories of these artists and genres, how they connected to other groups, and perhaps most importantly, developed an intense need to explore and learn about the art I was consuming. AG is perhaps singly responsible for where my cultural capital is today.

I used the service rabidly, filling up my parents’ computer’s hard drive with all the weird and extreme music I could get my hands on. And hiding it at the same time, so they couldn’t hear how weird or extreme my tastes were. During a very important part of my teenage years, I found music that I really cared about rather than what corporations expected me to like (and purchase). And there was an aura of excitement to it all – not just listening to different music, but discovering it all. Unearthing the unknown. Perhaps it wasn’t the music that changed me, but the act of discovering it, and Audiogalaxy provided that in my life. It helped me develop my tastes as well as how I thought about culture and art – find my own thing, unafraid to be weird.

And apparently I wasn’t the only one, according to a Facebook fanpage.


While users attempted to block downloads of particular songs and artists in order to extend the legal life of their service, people figured out loopholes around this process by being coy with file names and tag data. But, it was only a matter of time. The service had a relatively brief life (about 3 years) and the whole thing was shut down. The RIAA was particularly brutal and incredibly powerful, proclaiming that an industry was in mortal danger. Audiogalaxy was more than a simple program that let people send things back and forth to each other. It was more of a contemporary music service years ahead of its time – multifaceted communities, encyclopedias of information, and the limitless unknown pushing the limits of dial-up connections across the planet. The community aspect was perhaps what was most terrifying to the RIAA. It wasn’t that people were sharing files, but sharing ideas and aesthetics. Users were not only capable of downloading mainstream music for free, but learning that this music had little purpose in their lives, and to look elsewhere for new and different things.

P2P’s were no longer safe to use. Viruses plagued the unsuspecting  and people began to learn the horror stories of life-crippling lawsuits for downloading a single song. While Audiogalaxy attempted to go legit while teaming up with Rhapsody, the community abandoned ship. In 2002, BitTorrent was just getting on its feet, and people were beginning to get broadband connections as opposed to dial-up. Albums and discographies were able to be downloaded as opposed to single songs and people learned about new music from message boards and newly-developing “social networking” communities.

As a member of these communities, it was interesting to see how Audiogalaxy shaped me in comparison to others. I was able to track down obscure musicians on MySpace or talk about bands people might enjoy while on various boards. I found these artists in local record stores (if possible) and supported them through merch sales. The program, in essence, changed my life in a serious way. It wasn’t just a way to find music, but it taught me the importance of cultural exploration – something I missed out on from my small-town adolescence. I learned to not just be satisfied with what was presented to me, but to go and find things that I actually liked. As a consumer, I learned about why I liked things rather than just simply liking.

Cut to almost a decade later.


In 2010, it took me by surprise that Audiogalaxy still existed, had the same loopy logo, and was providing an incredibly effective and free service, albeit entirely different than its original inception. Instead of downloading music from others, a user was able to stream their library of music to different devices. You could have an extensive collection of music at the touch of a finger on your memory-limited smart phone, or keep your sanity at work by having all of your music to listen to via a web interface. By logging into their website, you could listen to all of your music. Your computer became a cloud rather than paying a large company like Apple or Google to be the cloud for you. You had full control over your files and experience. There were no ads or algorithms competing for your attention.

In grad school I researched, typed, and graded papers in my office through insane A.M. hours while listening to black metal, dark ambient, alternative rock, new wave, comedy, podcasts, or any number of files without lugging around my laptop or needing to constantly update and organize an iPod through the horrors of iTunes. At jobs, I edited boring corporate blog posts and media presentations while comforted by sense of individuality and life outside of office walls.

But, this too was short lived. Audiogalaxy was bought by Dropbox in late 2012 and shut down its service entirely on January 31, 2013. No one knows how Dropbox plans to use the AG technology or development team, but fans are afraid. Again, years ahead of its time, AG fans fear that a company will charge money for simple and effective service that they’ve grown to love and use for free.


I still have Audiogalaxy installed on my computer. Its little logo sits lifeless and gray in my running programs list. I don’t want to uninstall it. I don’t want to kill it. I don’t want it to be gone from my life again. To me, it isn’t simply a program. AG’s essence, its process, its community, its freedom, and its passion became a fundamental aspect of who I am as a consumer, a fan, and as a human being. It feels odd to suggest a personal connection to a program, but I don’t think I was ever more connected to an .exe file.

While Audiogalaxy taught me about new music, it also taught me about myself.

R.I.P. Audiogalaxy 2002/2013.


R.I.P. Mike Kelley –

In 2001, I was 17 years old and a senior in high school. During this time, I was enrolled in AP Art (as well as other AP courses). I took several art classes in high school, usually 1-2 a year. This one was special though. AP Art was a course that people wouldn’t just take for no reason in particular, they actually had to care about it. Because of this actual interest in producing and expressing things, we were allotted an incredible amount of freedom. Some people focused on photography, some people did illustrations, some people did water color landscapes. The goal of the class was to have a little bit of everything, but when that requirement was met, you could do what you wanted.

I did detailed drawings of animal skulls on the bodies of stuffed bears with brown pencil on tan paper. I took photos of the minutiae of my life as a teenager. We did ink prints and ceramic work. But, my main focus was on acrylic paint on canvas boards.

They were these 12×10” boards of pre-made canvas, stored in these large moving cabinets that I had to maneuver and manipulate and dig around in in order to find them. No one else really used them, so they were sort of disorganized and scattered around in the storage area.

I took these tubes of acrylic paint, mostly dark colors – black, deep reds and blues, browns and I diluted them with water to various degrees. I discovered that this was a neat way to get a variety of colors in a brush stroke and throughout the painting depending on how long I had been using that particular color or how much water was added. It was a hard process to control, if you figured out the perfect combination of paint and water for that day, it would be impossible to figure out the next day.

A lot of my paintings were done in a single class period. The canvases were small, and the diluted paint made it easy to cover surfaces quickly.

I would sometimes draw these little scenes on the canvas boards in sharpie marker first. Just single panels of weird little dudes standing still. I never thought about it, just doodled a scene. Then I’d paint over the top and use a paper towel to soak up the paint over the people. This is not to say that any of this was groundbreaking art, it wasn’t anything more than lame high school expression.

I sort of just sat at the side of the room every day. I remember everyone else usually bustling about or doing something very serious. Here I was just doodling crap without any though and smearing paint over it all. My teacher had known me all through high school in the various art classes I had. She was tall, blonde, tan and a middle aged single mother. She was funny and always positive. I can’t remember her name anymore, and I feel sort of bad about that. Though my teacher was never a particular fan of my work, she allowed me to do it and she graded me fairly (probably more than fair). Sometimes she would just walk up next to my area and sigh about how she just didn’t get what I was doing – not that there was anything TO GET, but I could have been trying at something better. But, her complaints were always with a smile and a wink, and sometimes that is the great motivator for youth – an adult suggesting you can do better.

Eventually, she organized a field trip for us to a proper art museum – The Art Institute of Chicago. Since we were in the advanced class, she wanted to expose us to the huge possibilities of art, and to see things that would inspire us in our own work. Since it involved crossing state lines, we had to rent a REAL bus, which wasn’t cheap, but this was back when Clinton was in office and high schools had money and before students were educated solely for a graduation test.

I don’t remember the trip at all, but I remember the museum. I remember walking around alone, ducking down a hallway opposite of anyone’s path I crossed from class. But, in particular, I remember spending most of my time in their modern and contemporary art exhibit. There were a lot of video pieces there – a man’s face projected on a stuffed doll, answering psychology test questions; videos of clown torture; but there was much more. Sculptures made of twisted wire, painted boxes, abstract expressionism. One piece that I remember standing out to me was Kelley’s Eviscerated Corpse, seen above. At that time I wasn’t bothering to learn or remember an artist’s name, but I never forgot that particular piece. Not that it was particularly relevant, just stored in the back of my brain, nowhere in particular.

I remember some of the people in class scoffing at the section and making fun of how it wasn’t really art. I remember being angry at them. In the gift shop at the end of the trip, I spent what little money I had on a book that was about that exhibit. It was expensive, as things in museum gift shops always are, but I wanted to be able to take these pieces home with me. I still have the book and still look at it from time to time.

The next class, I remember quite vividly my art teacher coming up to me and saying, “You know, Tim…I wasn’t going to tell you this. But I looked at the stuff in the contemporary art section, and I saw people who do what you do.” She laughed and walked away. It was an admittance, of sorts. Not that I was suddenly some sort of art genius, but perhaps that things we don’t agree with aren’t always a waste of supplies.

In a very real sense, even though Mike Kelley didn’t hold a huge place in my life, he taught me a lot of things. It was okay to keep doing what you were doing, even if some people didn’t like it. Sometimes you need to open your mind a bit to something you aren’t familiar with. Perhaps most importantly, though, he reminded me (even years later) that it was okay to be weird.