Although I believe there is a human-in-the-loop at the company, Pandora generally uses automation to come up with a sequence of songs by different artists that an individual ought to like based on selection of favorite band or bands. For example, today Pandora uses a patented method called the “music genome” which decomposes songs into various ingredients and compares all the constituent parts of artists’ offerings in order to determine the essence of similarity.

Now of course, it is different: more automated, more technology-driven and real time, and more media savvy. Musical comparisons were very important for the younger generation, then as now, as it was an intrinsic means of social communication. Back then, new potentially awesome bands would be discovered and announced excitedly by one of our friends in a manner similar to what you might expect at a Paul Revere re-enactment in Boston. We compared Rush to other established contemporaries for various musical traits. When Rush first appeared on the Scottish rock music scene in the late 1970s, my teenage group of friends’ comparative assessment was limited to our meager assemblage of vinyl LPs, two one-hour radio shows per week, and our detailed dissection of a handful of music newspapers. For three unassuming guys from Canada, Rush is known to be big, visually and aurally, and tonight, perhaps their final tour, is no exception. As my eyes and ears regulate, squinting through the layers of light the origin of the sound and light show becomes clear: three unassuming older dudes on stage with a guitar, bass and a drum kit. Batteries of lights irradiate everything from the exuberant faces of my new short-term neighbors to the jagged internal structure of the pavilion, which, illuminated, looked as though it had been constructed using a giant child’s Meccano set.

Sound of immense proportions fills the entire amphitheater, instantly masking the distributed racket of a sellout crowd.

Jiffy airport parking