Several of our readings have indicated that we live, now more than ever before, in a time where we are surrounded by sounds – sounds that are constantly new and that at the same time can’t ever really be new. Sound recording has become part of our everyday lives, and it is safe to say that the majority of music consumers listen to recordings far more than they do to live music. With this in mind, it is somewhat surprising that these consumers embrace the relatively recent format of mp3, even though it comes at the – possibly hidden - cost of sound quality.
In my paper I want to briefly explore this loss of sound quality and to what extent it is hidden (related to this: much of today’s listening time is spent on low quality headphones and – worse! – fm transmitters in cars, making it easy to blame the lower sound quality on these instead of the format itself). I then want to talk about the implications this holds about today’s consumer in general (who apparently picks convenience over quality, and not only in the area of sound production), as well as about the industry: did the CD format take it as far as it could? Was a new format necessary not just for the consumer, but also for the producer, in order to open up a whole new area for improvement?
I would also like to compare the purchase of an mp3 album to a CD album, which can sometimes be very similar in price. However, with a CD purchase, we receive a physical object, as well as a protective case, cover art, a booklet, lyrics and other writing, photos, dedications and thank-yous, etc. I want to talk about how the relationship between listener and artist has changed; I argue that with the purchase of a CD in, say, the mid-90s, the listener feels/felt more connected to the artist, privy to information not (as) easily available to others: even reading the lyrics while listening to the CD changes the listening experience and thus makes it different from that of someone listening to the same song on the radio. Today, anything found in a booklet can most likely be found online, but the experience is different: anyone can google for lyrics, there is no “value” to knowing them anymore. In Sound Unbound, Jonathan Lethem makes the difference between a gift and a commodity, and situates music somewhere in the middle (a commodity that still feels more like a gift?). With the rise of mp3, music seems to be becoming more of a commodity for many people: you get exactly what you pay for: “only” the music. Nothing more, maybe even less.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Striving for the Impossible
I thought Roumain’s little music manifesto was interesting, because it came from such an affective place. And while that is not usually desirable in (somewhat) academic writing, music is one of the fields where it seems almost impossible not to be subjective and slightly emotional. Of course, he is only giving concrete examples for something he most likely considers the overarching truth.
“you have to play your cello like a bass drum.” One of DJ Spooky’s observations comes to mind: there are no new sounds. If you cannot create something completely and truly original (and I believe you can’t), you have to make old things sound new. Later on, though, Roumain questions the reader: “are you original? Where does originality exist? Is there anyone in the world like you? No? prove it!” For Roumain, the potential for originality still seems to exist. Or is it the aspiration for originality that he finds desirable? Is he saying: there are no new sounds, but do your best to make your stuff sound original? You will never get there, but the act of trying is what will produce desirable music? I would like to think that this is (part of) what he means, because it makes a lot of sense to me. The impossibility of true creativity and originality may seem depressing and demotivating to a lot of people, but when you accept that this is how it is, it stops being a negative thing, and you (the hypothetical artist, musician, creator of anything) can strive to use all the existing things in the world to make something that looks or sounds or feels as new as possible. It’s a lot like Lacanian lack: once you know it’s there, you can stop being disappointed by life. And I certainly think that’s a good thing. =)
Another question: “ Composers are historians, documentarians, ethnomusicologists, and pathological liars.” Liars? Really? Why? Is he referring to the fact that they “steal” sources and inspirations and claim originality for their work? Is it because they deny the three classifications prior to pathological liars? I would have liked to hear more about this.
Also, I just had to bring this in: it connects more to Rhythm Science, in my opinion, or the first half of Sound Unbound, but it fits into the general discussion of copyright, ownership, and authorship. This video has been circulating on the internet recently, and has apparently been recorded and mixed by a guy on his laptop, and performed by various street musicians all over the world. So, who actually created this? The guy who recorded and mixed it? All of the performers? Or Ben E. King? All of them? I love that this is a sort of “remix” of live performances, you don’t see too many of those.
(Also, note the under-representation of women. Are we only good for harmony and backup?)
“you have to play your cello like a bass drum.” One of DJ Spooky’s observations comes to mind: there are no new sounds. If you cannot create something completely and truly original (and I believe you can’t), you have to make old things sound new. Later on, though, Roumain questions the reader: “are you original? Where does originality exist? Is there anyone in the world like you? No? prove it!” For Roumain, the potential for originality still seems to exist. Or is it the aspiration for originality that he finds desirable? Is he saying: there are no new sounds, but do your best to make your stuff sound original? You will never get there, but the act of trying is what will produce desirable music? I would like to think that this is (part of) what he means, because it makes a lot of sense to me. The impossibility of true creativity and originality may seem depressing and demotivating to a lot of people, but when you accept that this is how it is, it stops being a negative thing, and you (the hypothetical artist, musician, creator of anything) can strive to use all the existing things in the world to make something that looks or sounds or feels as new as possible. It’s a lot like Lacanian lack: once you know it’s there, you can stop being disappointed by life. And I certainly think that’s a good thing. =)
Another question: “ Composers are historians, documentarians, ethnomusicologists, and pathological liars.” Liars? Really? Why? Is he referring to the fact that they “steal” sources and inspirations and claim originality for their work? Is it because they deny the three classifications prior to pathological liars? I would have liked to hear more about this.
Also, I just had to bring this in: it connects more to Rhythm Science, in my opinion, or the first half of Sound Unbound, but it fits into the general discussion of copyright, ownership, and authorship. This video has been circulating on the internet recently, and has apparently been recorded and mixed by a guy on his laptop, and performed by various street musicians all over the world. So, who actually created this? The guy who recorded and mixed it? All of the performers? Or Ben E. King? All of them? I love that this is a sort of “remix” of live performances, you don’t see too many of those.
(Also, note the under-representation of women. Are we only good for harmony and backup?)
Monday, April 6, 2009
Are bought gifts the better gifts?
My favorite essay so far in Sound Unbound is Jonathan Lethem’s, particularly his take on illegal music downloads and the act of gift giving. I love that he picks up on “You wouldn’t steal a handbag” type campaigns, which I find just as ridiculous as he does. When I download a musical track, I am not depriving anyone else of that same track. I almost want to say: music should always be a gift; we don’t have many things we can give away without losing; why not make use of that ability? I’m sounding pretty cheesy here, but I’m just following in Lethem’s footsteps.
Here’s an interesting thought: music cannot be stolen, because a gift cannot be stolen. Yet I was just talking to somebody about the gifting values of CDs versus mp3s, and we agreed that a CD seems to have more inherent “value” - through its being material as well as through all the extras that come with the purchase: the case, the art, the liner notes. When I say “gifting value,” I mean that we agreed that a CD makes a much, much better gift than, say, an mp3 download coupon. Because, we found, it’s the liner notes and the art, the artists’ thank-yous and the ability to actually hold something in your hands (and protect it in a case) that makes a CD have a greater emotional and affective value. To continue with the cheesiness: we feel a CD is more of a gift, not just from a friend who buys it for us, but also from the artist. However, we are about as unlikely to steak a CD as we are a handbag. An mp3, we have no problem stealing, but the invisibility makes it not a very good present. We don’t feel as connected to the musician; we don’t feel the “value” of the music as much as we do with the CD. Even though a CD is as reproducible as an mp3, the CD feels a little more “ours.”
I also have to say, I love the term “disnial,” the kind of source hypocrisy committed by Disney. On some deep, idealistic level, doesn’t it make you want to question the legality of operating this way, taking sources for free while not letting others do the same with your material? I think that might be my copyright utopia: if you let people use your stuff for free, you automatically earn the right to use other people’s stuff. If you make people pay, you pay. Of course, we wouldn’t have a way to control the quality of artistic output any longer…. But what is quality anyway, right?
Sterling’s rant about dead media causing dead art also made me think…. Is that really a bad thing? The fact that technology evolves so fast brings it closer to oral traditions. If enough people are interested in your work, it will be translated into other languages. Again, this could serve as a quality filter…. But since I don’t like the label quality, let’s call it a popularity filter. Just like in oral traditions, popular “songs” will move on with the ever-changing technology, and it will ultimately change with it and be changed by it. And that, in my opinion, is a good thing. Of course, as Rothenberg demonstrated, you can’t ever really translate something completely. The same can be said for different media: even putting online art on a screen with a different size or resolution, or play an mp3 through a medium of lower or higher sound quality output will inevitably change the art itself. And I want to move away from the concept of the “original” version: no matter how high a bitrate your mp3 is, if you only ever listen to it on a cheap mp3 player and through an fm transmitter in your car, that resulting song will be “your” original, because that’s what you hear. Don’t refer back, only experience what is happening now.
Here’s an interesting thought: music cannot be stolen, because a gift cannot be stolen. Yet I was just talking to somebody about the gifting values of CDs versus mp3s, and we agreed that a CD seems to have more inherent “value” - through its being material as well as through all the extras that come with the purchase: the case, the art, the liner notes. When I say “gifting value,” I mean that we agreed that a CD makes a much, much better gift than, say, an mp3 download coupon. Because, we found, it’s the liner notes and the art, the artists’ thank-yous and the ability to actually hold something in your hands (and protect it in a case) that makes a CD have a greater emotional and affective value. To continue with the cheesiness: we feel a CD is more of a gift, not just from a friend who buys it for us, but also from the artist. However, we are about as unlikely to steak a CD as we are a handbag. An mp3, we have no problem stealing, but the invisibility makes it not a very good present. We don’t feel as connected to the musician; we don’t feel the “value” of the music as much as we do with the CD. Even though a CD is as reproducible as an mp3, the CD feels a little more “ours.”
I also have to say, I love the term “disnial,” the kind of source hypocrisy committed by Disney. On some deep, idealistic level, doesn’t it make you want to question the legality of operating this way, taking sources for free while not letting others do the same with your material? I think that might be my copyright utopia: if you let people use your stuff for free, you automatically earn the right to use other people’s stuff. If you make people pay, you pay. Of course, we wouldn’t have a way to control the quality of artistic output any longer…. But what is quality anyway, right?
Sterling’s rant about dead media causing dead art also made me think…. Is that really a bad thing? The fact that technology evolves so fast brings it closer to oral traditions. If enough people are interested in your work, it will be translated into other languages. Again, this could serve as a quality filter…. But since I don’t like the label quality, let’s call it a popularity filter. Just like in oral traditions, popular “songs” will move on with the ever-changing technology, and it will ultimately change with it and be changed by it. And that, in my opinion, is a good thing. Of course, as Rothenberg demonstrated, you can’t ever really translate something completely. The same can be said for different media: even putting online art on a screen with a different size or resolution, or play an mp3 through a medium of lower or higher sound quality output will inevitably change the art itself. And I want to move away from the concept of the “original” version: no matter how high a bitrate your mp3 is, if you only ever listen to it on a cheap mp3 player and through an fm transmitter in your car, that resulting song will be “your” original, because that’s what you hear. Don’t refer back, only experience what is happening now.
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