Fractured ambience December 5, 2015 No CommentI’ve taken to calling my electronic work “fractured ambient.” I like the phrase, but right now that’s all it is. A phrase. And I’m deciding whether or not it really works. Looking at history usually helps sort things out. A (very small) bit of history, plus a definition Erik Satie is often invoked as the originator of ambient music. Listen to Music D’ameublement, though, and you’ll wonder why. But then listen to the Gymnopedies and it’s pretty obvious. This is serious chill. Brian Eno coined the term “ambient”. Eno’s concept of ambience is music that can be either actively listened to or used as background, depending on whether the listener chooses to pay attention or not. It’s been a highly influential if not entirely original idea, at best informing the resurgence of electronic ambient via the dance world, at worst being taken to its passive extreme by many creators of “relaxation” music. If you want a straight up definition, here’s Wikipedia: “…a genre of music that puts an emphasis on tone and atmosphere over traditional musical structure or rhythm. Ambient music is said to evoke an “atmospheric”, “visual”[2] or “unobtrusive” quality.” A nice description Here’s how Joshua Rothman in his New Yorker article “The Discreet Charm of Ambient Music” describes the experience of listening to Eno’s “Lux.” … you’re equally aware of the way that it frames the other sounds you’re hearing and making: the traffic in the street, your own breathing, the keys on the keyboard, the creaks in the floorboards, the rustle of your clothes when you move. You’re also more in touch with the small inflections in your own moods. Each key change, and each new instrument, with its new timbre, is an opportunity to measure the difference between the feeling of the music and your state of mind. “Lux” is fascinating as music. But it also makes the world more fascinating. It’s a catalyst for consciousness and self-awareness. Fractured ambience Fractured ambience subverts this to some extent by introducing noise, environmental sound, and spoken word. So is it still ambient in any conventional sense? Is it – as Wikipedia says – atmospheric, visual, unobtrusive? It’s definitely atmospheric and visual. Unobtrusive? I’m not so sure. More than a lot of ambient music, it pulls you towards it (resulting in a less meditative, take-it-or-leave-it type of experience). But it still immerses you in a sonic texture that, as Rothman says, makes you aware of the way that it frames the other sounds you’re hearing. In my next posts, I’ll look at artists who I think are taking a fractured approach. Composition, UncategorizedShare : Tweet
Guitar machine November 1, 2015 No CommentI described a connection in my last post between myself and the guitar. This connection doesn’t by itself differ from connection between humans and other musical instruments. All instruments are pieces of technology that communicate thoughts and feelings originating in their players’ bodies. But the electric guitar is the first musical instrument designed specifically to create sound by connecting to electronic technology outside of itself. Orchestral instruments are able use electronic technology, but doing so isn’t their normal way of operating. For the electric guitarist, electronic technology (on-board electronics, amplifiers) is integral to its origin story, and that story has evolved over decades to include effects pedals and digitization. The electric guitar doesn’t exist without this technology, a technology that represents a basic otherness, a machine-ness outside of human experience. Blurred boundaries The electric guitar blurs the boundaries between human and nonhuman, and expands the concept of what it can mean to be human. This can be said about any instrument, but the electric guitar foregrounds this idea in its extreme and varied use of technology. And this extreme is normal for the guitar. Not so for orchestral instruments. Given this normality of extremes, the electric guitar is more obviously a machine than other instruments. It becomes the standard-bearer for human-machine collaboration in a musical context. With the guitar, a machineness outside of human experience changes to become a natural part of what it means to be human. This given the the fact that it is the machine that allows us to demonstrate our humanness by allowing us the possibility of emotional and intellectual expression. Guitar-machine If we connect to a machine (the guitar) in the way I describe here, then it makes sense that we change how we think about ourselves. Essentially, when we play the guitar, we become part machine. We forget ourselves. Sometimes we forget the guitar. Our experience is reduced to sound, and that sound is what’s left in the fusion of human and machine. Which is kind of cool. And kind of scary. And kind of what musicians have always done. guitarShare : Tweet
Posthumanism and the guitar October 24, 2015 No CommentIs the electric guitar posthuman? Is that a weird question? Ten years ago it might have been. Now I’m not so sure… Posthuman, transhuman Bear with me here. I have to lay a little groundwork. Unlike transhumanism – the desire to augment humans physically and intellectually – the posthuman (related to posthumanism) is a human that has gone beyond humanism. And humanism approaches the world by emphasizing human interests over the interests of non-humans. The problem with this is that it doesn’t recognize a connection between human and non-human. We’re up here, they’re down there. And if we think that way, we close down different ways of thinking that might lead to useful insights. After all, we learn to know ourselves through daily interactions not just with other people, but with animals and with things. Things like the guitar. By trying to get better at it, we test our limits and learn about ourselves. Talking to the guitar A posthumanist attitude places humans and machines in a relationship that recognizes connection. So how does this connection change how you approach that machine we call the electric guitar? Think of it this way: Question: How do you connect to (or communicate with) the guitar? Answer: With your thoughts and feelings communicated through your fingers. How does the guitar connect/communicate with you? Through the sound it makes; this sound is its feedback that you use to learn about yourself. That feedback could be… That sounds great. That doesn’t sound great. Which leads to… You need to work on whatever doesn’t sound great. The guitar is almost like a mentor, taking input from you and giving information that enables you to get better. Try it. Play something, and see what thoughts arise in your mind. Think of those thoughts as the guitar communicating with you. Am I insane? Deluded? No, I’m a guitar player totally engaged with the instrument. There are reasons I do things like this. Openness When I think of playing the guitar as creating a connection, I feel a sense of openness and possibility. The guitar is no longer just a thing; it actually feels like an extension of me, integrating information it receives from my body, coordinating it and organizing it into a stream of non-verbal communication. Because of this, I feel more connected to the sound I’m making. And because of that, the expression of that sound feels deeper, more meaningful. When I pick up the guitar, it becomes a collaborative venture instead of a human manipulating a tool. This change in perspective has changed the quality of my time with the guitar. It feels more positive, and the things that I make feel more like what I want to make, instead of what I think other people want me to make. I find a bit more of myself every time. guitarShare : Tweet
Why composers don’t write for electric guitar September 19, 2015 No CommentBecause it’s too hard. First they need to figure out what’s technically possible. Then there’s dealing with different effects units and different brands of effects. Technique Luciano Berio’s Sequenza XI for classical guitar is an example of technical difficulty. When he wrote the piece, Berio consulted Elliot Fisk to see what’s possible on the guitar. What’s possible for Fisk isn’t necessarily possible for other players. Fisk’s hands are enormous. It wasn’t physically possible for me to play the second chord, and I have a pretty good stretch. Hand size isn’t a consideration when writing for most instruments. Because of this, composers often forget to consider it when they write for guitar. Effects If a composer decides to write for effects, which ones does she use? Delay is the easiest. You can specify what you want and it will reproducible on any delay unit. Distortion is another story. Is it distortion you’re looking for or overdrive? Amplifier overdrive or stomp-box overdrive? If it’s distortion, then what kind of tone? How much distortion? Reverb is tricky, as well. The composer has to be specific; some players like lots, some like a little. If you just put “reverb” on the score, you really don’t know what you’ll get. This goes for most effects. You have to sit down with the player, and go through their effects in detail. But then you’ll only get that player’s range of effects. Guitars and amps Even saying “clean tone” is a problem. Clean with a Fender Telecaster is different than clean with a Gibson SG. Same with amps. Every one sounds a little different. What you’re hearing in your head isn’t what you’ll get from every player. Multiple pieces So, you can try to nail down the sound you want from the electric guitar. But since each player’s sound is defined by a different guitar/amp/effects setup, you’ll only get what you imagined from the player you consulted. For a lot of composers, this is a serious problem. They want to communicate accurately what’s going on in their ears, and they want the piece to sound the same regardless of who plays it. This isn’t really possible with the electric guitar. But personally? I like the idea of a piece that changes each time it’s played. All pieces do. It’s just more dramatic with the electric guitar. Composition, UncategorizedShare : Tweet
Writing music without the guitar June 1, 2015If you’re a guitar player, and you write music with the guitar, you will only be able to write what you’ve already written. Playing the guitar is a set of learned muscular responses. It’s a hard instrument to play, and it’s necessary to repeat the same movements over and over when learning it. So when you pick it up, your body will naturally make those movements. In fact, those learned movements are the only movements that are possible. If you want to add to what you can do on the guitar, you have to repeat a different movement on the guitar a bunch of times. You can only write what your body is able to do. What to do? So how do you write music if the only thing you know is the guitar? Sit in a comfortable chair with a notebook. Leave the guitar in another room. Draw some vertical lines until you have 8 empty bars. Now think of how much activity you want in each bar. Maybe there’s a chord on the second beat and the rest of the bar is empty. Maybe there’s a strumming rhythm that goes through the whole bar. How does the sparseness of the first approach make you feel? What does the busyness of the second approach do for you? While the song may have chords, that doesn’t mean that it excludes electronic sounds, environmental sounds, etc. That doesn’t mean that the chords are playing all the time. Are there any other sounds, instrumental or otherwise, that you think would work? After you’ve filled the 8 bars (without picking up the guitar), play what you’ve written. Revise as necessary. Working this way, you often come up with stuff you don’t normally write. Chords You can learn new chords, or you can change the sound of the chords you already know. Try playing a chord that you know, and take one of your fingers off the fretboard. With an open string C chord, you need three fingers. Take one finger off the fretboard. Strum, then arpeggiate. Do this for each finger you take off. See if you can write an entire song by manipulating that one chord. Learn a new chord, and go through the same process. songwritingShare : Tweet
Beyond notes and rhythms May 17, 2015 No CommentWhat do you think about when you write music? What are you trying to do? In popular music it usually comes down to notes and rhythms. But there are other things to consider: timbre, articulation, register, density, dynamics. If we take these things into consideration when we write, our writing becomes deeper. Awareness This comes down to awareness. It doesn’t mean that you have to structure every last thing in a piece. But being aware of when it wants to get loud, where the timbre changes, how many instruments are playing, and what range the notes are in makes your connection to the piece deeper. It gives you more material to work with. Just notice what you’re doing. Connections As a simple example, you may want to connect the first minute of the piece with the third minute by using the same timbre. First minute – distorted guitar; second minute – clean guitar; third minute – distorted guitar. This kind of thing forges connections in the mind of the listener. And of course, this can be used in popular music as easily as in avant-garde music. Just connect verses to verses, choruses to choruses, or verses to choruses by considering things beyond notes and rhythms songwritingShare : Tweet
