What IS Rhythm Science? (longest blog post ever)

Rhythm Science was an interesting read. Right from the start, you can tell what Miller is doing: the book is obviously an attempt at translate the DJ-ing/sampling process into writing. The question is, does he succeed, and also: is it even possible?
I think he does a decent job. Like the accompanying CD, the parts of the text flow into each other, to the point where there really are no “parts;” there is only one whole. At the same time, it seems like he could have put the sections of the book in any random order, and it would have worked just as well. Mind you, I don’t think that this is a bad thing. Just like a good CD, especially of any sort of electronica, you can jump in at any point and get something worthwhile (or at least enjoyable) out of it.

But what, then, is it exactly that we get out of Rhythm Science? Here are the things we don’t get: a step-by-step guide to DJ-ing; a clear definition of what rhythm science actually is; a textbook. What we do get it a collections of fragments that, together, seem to become more than their sum. Individually, the fragments are thoughts and ideas about what DJ-ing is/should be, with a bunch of history, theory and philosophy thrown in. Taken as a whole, the book becomes – what exactly? Halfway though, I couldn’t decide whether I liked what Miller was doing. Wanting some opinions from the general public, what better place to look than Amazon user reviews? Here are some fun excerpts:

“This book shows that theory can be written almost poetically. A rare thing: theory that is as artistic as the art it describes.”

It’s true that the book could be described as being poetic, in the way that hip hop can be poetic, both inside the main text and on the glossy spreads featuring “remixes” of significant excerpts. Is the book then simply a demonstration of his art, translated for the non-DJ-savvy, textbook-reading public? And is it then still theory? I suppose it can be. In a way, it reminded me of Deleuze and Guattari’s 1000 Plateaus, with its non-linear, repetitive writing. Again: just pick it up, open it anywhere, and read. Jumble up the pages, and it still works. Put the tracks on Random.

“A truly terrible read... This book is written like some sort of hiphop, dada, coffee shoppe manifesto. The texts can fit into one of three categories: Self-referential boastings, references of others accomplishments (Spooky's M.O.) or some sort of patchwork rambling about technology sprinkled with fifty-cent phrases and urbanisms like "check the flow" and "flip the script." Sigh... Spooky tries to defend this garbage in the acknowledgements section by saying "try to make people think and they'll hate you." Spare me.”

I doubt this guys hated the book because it made him think. I really wonder why this person even picked up the book: it seems to me that anyone even slightly interested in the music would not trash this book quite so hard. I was almost surprised at myself, though: at no point did I consciously feel like Miller was boasting, although I can see where this reviewer is coming from. But: When you are a DJ who primarily works by sampling other people work, self-referential boasting is almost impossible. You are always, by default, referring to a multitude of other people who came before. Thinking about it in these terms, the work of a DJ seems pretty humble.

“I love his music, I love what he does with sound, I love how he is able to draw so many disparate elements to play to create sound-worlds that are immersive, instructive, and wildly engaging. Too bad he just won't shut up sometimes. (…) So, bottom line from a huge fan of the MUSIC: the book is beautifully designed, gorgeous to look at, and virtually unreadable. Skip it. Consider it a nice CD holder.”

Oh. So it is possible to love the music and hate the book. This fan tries to find the positives about the book, praising the design. I did like the design, although I at first feared it might end up being too distracting. But you do get into the flow, you start expecting the rhythm of the glossy pages that don’t contain any “main” text. There’s a lot of things that can be said about Rhythm Science, but I don’t think I’d call it unreadable. Even if some of the passages don’t seem to make (immediate) sense: you can’t always understand all the lyrics in a song, but it can still be a good song.

“This book is not academia, it is hip hop. By that I mean it is a manifesto encoded into rhythmic, visual passages that don't always make sense right away. Eventually, if the reader is open to it, his consciousness begins to adapt to Miller's, and ideas that once seemed like gibberish begin to make sense. I highly recommend this book. It is short but the knowledge is incredibly dense/intense. It has absolutely changed the way I look at identity and cultural evolution in the information age, and it accomplishes this subtly.”

There: this guy does think the book is a good song, but he claims that if you listen to it (closely) enough, it will start making sense. I’m still conflicted as to whether all of the book necessarily needs to make sense to the reader. Much like music, the general idea seems to be that you can take away from the read whatever you like. Any sound can be you.


“we are at a place and time in hiphop/electronic music/performance art/ avant garde practice that is rather sad...where to be involved in so many different practices one has to water oneself down to satisfy everyone...The text is vital and not long enough. i do not think Miller is a bad writer but perhaps a very select audience is ready to deal with this work.”

A limited target audience, whether this book is to be considered a textbook or poetry, is pretty much a given. In fact, I can hardly imagine a more accessible book on something as specific as “Rhythm Science.” And speaking of which, what exactly is this rhythm science? He does talk about it at great lengths, but seems to deliberately avoid giving a definition of it. And really? I’m fine with that. “Nothing is direct,” Miller says on the final pages of the book, and that might just as well be the title of his work. Nothing is direct. Not in Rhythm Science, not in DJ-ing, not in life, he seems to suggest. And that, I would say, is fair enough.


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On p. 57, Miller mentions that “average kids from the street” would most likely not be able to make the connection between Derrida’s deconstruction and “turntablism’s mixes.” He’s keeping it general, but I wonder what this means for DJ Spooky’s, specifically the CD that came with the book. If a listener is not familiar with the theory, does that diminish listening enjoyment? Or even the “value” of the music? It is music for English majors?
Also, how much does it add to the listening experience if you know who he’s sampling? Personally, I liked the whole CD, but I do have to admit that it was always fun to recognize samples…. Kurt Schwitters’ Ursonate comes to mind. I don’t think not knowing some of the sources diminished what I got out of the CD, but I wonder if the same can be said for not knowing the theory.

In addition, what does all this mean for other DJs’ music? Rhythm Science often sounds as if it was offering the key to DJ culture in general, but how generalizable is it, really?
Can we assume that there is as much of a thought process behind other musical artists who use sampling in their work? Take for example the Avalanches’ Frontier Psychiatrists:

Listening: Frontier Psychiatrists

It certainly brings up it’s own set of questions and assumptions. What it has in common with DJ Spooky’s work is that most of the samples immediately sound anachronistic in the setting of the electronically influenced track, only that the effect of this track is more humorously entertaining than DJ Spooky. Having read Rhythm Science, I want to ask: is there a chance that I might actually enjoy Frontier Psychiatrists even more if it came with a book about the band’s understanding of DJ-ing and sampling? I don’t think I’m quite 100% serious asking that question, but really: can we compare DJ Spooky and other DJs or sampling bands on these terms? Or is he a phenomenon completely detached from mainstream music. Again: is DJ Spooky Music for English majors?

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Listening: Erratum Errata

Erratum Errata, the installation Miller did for the Museum of Contemporary Art, is available online for anyone to go and listen to; but even more: you don’t just get to hear it, you can also play with it: by using the control panel and by dragging and dropping the visual objects on the screen, any visitor can change the sound and appearance of the piece. In the book, Miller says that DJ-ing always involves an amout of randomness and chance; this installation, in a way, makes the viewer/listener the DJ. The visuals and the words are Duchamp’s, the initial combination of them with musical elements is DJ Spooky’s, but everything else is up to the visitor of the webpage. We are remixing the remix. Is Miller bringing out the artist in all of us? Playing with the webpage quickly gave me the feel that there is no right or wrong. Some combinations sound better than others, but very, very many just sound equally… adequate, for lack of a better term. The question, then, is: given access to the right “found objects,” are we all artists? Does everyone who visits the website immediately start making art? Or is it only art when there is a certain intentionality to how we control the piece? Is there such a thing as random art? Accidental art even? Does an object turn into art simply by being “found?”

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Other questions and remarks about the text:

- Miller says in several places that there are no new sounds, only new ways of hearing. To what extend is that true? Now that we are surrounded by technology, is there no new place to go for us, sound-wise? Is that why sampling is something that is happening now as opposed to at a time when new instruments were still being invented? We don’t need to invent instruments anymore, because we can digitally recreate any sounds we want. It’s sad, thinking about it like that, but on the other hand it opened us up to hearing “old” sounds in a way we never have before. I personally very much enjoyed the incorporation of old recorded readings into his work.

- Somewhat related to the above: Miller claims that creativity means “recontextualizing the previous expressions of others” (p. 33). Does this indicate that creativity as we know it (creating something new, original) does not really exist? Is everything a copy of a copy, almost to a Beaudrillardian extent?

- On p. 61, Miller says, “Identity is about creating an environment where you can make the world act as your own reflection.” I’m not sure I understand what he is trying to say. I would have not even given this sentence a second thought if he had written “DJ-ing” or “rhythm science” instead of identity. But identity? To what extent is identity formed by creating an environment in which the world acts as your own reflection? Is he saying that identity can only exist within the context of other people validating it? And to what extent can you actually create that world? I suppose being an artist would help….