Hi.: May 2009

...have always intrigued me. I think the first scary movie that actually scared me was a zombie movie. Since then (like 3rd grade...) I've come to have an interesting relationship with them; kinda scared of them, but very very interested.

This morning I was thinking about a phrase that I always say when I'm having an odd day. Well, let it speak for itself:

"I feel like I'm walking through water."

I came to this, because I recently got my first JesusBranded shirt from their new Tues/Thurs rotation, err, collection.
I feel as if recently, I've become very apathetic and stoic about my faith, and this image of attempting to break free, or reach to the top of the ocean, to escape the water, came to mind. (Think of when a swimmer finishes a race, and comes to the surface gasping for air.)

Oddly, a similar image of how zombies break through the ground (That hand reaching through the dirt, little particles flying everywhere, maybe in front of a tombstone or something) came to my mind.

Maybe Zombies just want to share with us their secret to eternal life. That they've broken through the ground, through what's been holding them back. And in a way, they've also overcome life. (Though they're HELLA dumb and really just wanna eat us, which isn't as cool as this romanticized version of a zombie that i'm presenting, haha). Zombies are interesting.

I read an article (don't remember where) about why zombie movies scare us the most; because of the "slow burn," because of being the last one "human" and being "alone" because of the lack of something "fantasy" about it; because there's still something oddly human about them, but still isn't.

Isn't that a little odd to think about? They were human. A lot of times we use metaphors that employ zombies in order to illustrate mindlessness and whatnot. Interesting.

That's all for now. I'm happy I re-found this blog, it gives me a place to put down my thoughts.

In other notes, I've been thinking about writing an EP, ionno who would play on it, but i do know that there wouldn't really be a genre. It's still forming in my head. I guess if I could attempt to illustrate it right now, it would be a mix of Sigur Ros, Lupe Fiasco, and.... Bullet For My Valentine. It seems odd, but I've really been paying attention to how artists write/compose their music, and how they express their ideas, and how I can express the ideas that I have in my head. I think there's a flow and this sortof "dog in a cage" feeling that I get when I listen to rap, and I love the way Lupe Fiasco flows in order to create a story. Sigur Ros is amazing at creating an atmosphere, and it's something I'd love to re-create. In addition to this, me, being a punk/metal kid at heart, I love the energy that punk and metal present, and I really wish that I could combine the passion found in all of these genres/artists and reform it. Does that make sense?

Ionno. I'll post my final paper for my writing seminar (Minimalist Music). I'm really proud of it. (Got an A in the class, wut wuttttt)

Here it is:

Sean Norton

Since minimalism’s formation, it has permeated all forms of art from architecture to forms of visual art. It would make sense that music would follow suit. The lasting effects that minimalism had on music still reappear today in popular music. The stripped down elements of music have found their way into a multitude of genres. “Post-rock” band Sigur Ros is one such band that exemplifies one of the biggest qualities that Steve Reich made known: That music is a “Gradual process.” [1] The lead up into minimalism began with experimental music and the philosophical-like questioning of not what music was, but what music could be. John Cage was a prominent voice in addressing this and proposed that experimentation “precede[d] the steps that are finally taken with determination.”[2] It’s in this experimental moment where there is nothing confidently determined about the music that it comes alive and is something much more different than the music that preceded it. This deconstruction of music was to set the standards in which minimalist music would rise. In questioning what music could in many different ways, this has allowed the experimental and minimalist style to reach mainstream listeners by creating a very elemental music that provided a limitless freedom. In both understanding and organizing this, Michael Nyman creates three main pillars of the origins in minimalist music. “Composition, realization and audition”[3] all come together to create a living piece of work that is not just a performance but an atmosphere that the listener engages within. A better way to put this would be to simplify these terms into: “Composition, Performing and Listening”[4]. Each of these pillars consists of many varying questioned elements (through experimental music) that lead the composer, performer, and listener into a unique musical experience. This musical experience, deliberate or not, is one of the defining ideas in minimalistic music that has derived itself from the deconstruction of music and the rebuilding of these elements that has crept its way into Sigur Ros. In addition to this, long drawn out tones, repetitive lines and a constant pulse, all characteristic of minimalist music, have also surfaced in Sigur Ros’ songs. Their airy vocals, prolonged tones and repetitive melodies scream “minimalist music”. The composition process of Sigur Ros requires almost no direction as they sit down and begin to play and feed off of each other. Performances are only tied to the recording reproductions of their songs in melodies, harmonies and chords. Time has almost no place in Sigur Ros as they create a flowing work that builds up and dies out as it pleases. All of these characteristics derive themselves from both a product of the deconstruction of music and a by-product of a sexually-driven culture. By deconstructing music, and building music back up, they create music that doesn’t have to have huge orchestras or be a symphony. It can start with something small, and grow into anything. It can grow into looped tapes, or be a hypnotic piano line over and over again. But it’s all minimalism. By having a base to work off of, you can go into any direction you like. “Within limits, anything goes”[5] and Sigur Ros is no exception. They may not be “traditional” minimalistic music, but their roots lie in the deconstruction of music while their flowers come from their own take on reconstruction of music. The true origins lie in experimental music; the beginnings of minimalist music and the challenging of what music meant to be. Experimental music is true to its name in that, it is an experiment, preceding a step that is taken with determination. In this essence, it is something that isn’t really pre-planned. It is music that exists in the moment and in this moment it stands by itself without “something logical, abstract, or symbolical.”[6] The emphasis here is less on the talent of the performer, or huge, moving classical pieces that Aaron Copland feels so strongly for, but more about the atmosphere and the relationship between the listener and the performer. In arriving to this point, experimental music breaks down predispositions we have towards music, or rather, deconstructing music. One example is that of time. Michael Nyman introduces a very interesting idea about recordings. Imagine, first, that a band was recording live an album or song (like Carry On My Wayward Son). Every time we listen to the recording, we are hearing what the band played at that time but they are (clearly) not playing it for us again every time we listen to the recording. In considering this, John Cage brings up an idea that a recording “has no more value than a postcard”. It is something that has happened in the past, something that could only say “Look at where we’ve been”, but lacks the gravity that music has in the moment; this brings out what Michael Nyman calls the Identity of the piece. By changing the length of a piece, the notations, and in essence defeating recordings, we create something that is unique and not just something that’s “a frame to be filled”.[7] Music doesn’t need to have a set length. By deconstructing music in a time-like aspect, we have created pieces such as Pendulum Music that change every time. Here, notes for the piece state that any number of microphones (more than 2) can be used and that all the performers need to do is swing the microphones in order to create various pulses of feedback. The length of the piece ultimately depends on how long it takes for the microphones to come to rest. If the piece were to follow a form it would be the same piece over and over again. The piece exists only as what it was, not what it is, and what it could be. By using experimental music and de-constructing the idea of time in relation to a performance, we have begun to create individuality in a piece of music as something that stands by itself. That being said, it is the performer’s duty to assist in creating the individuality of a piece. The performer, in many pieces such as Pendulum Music, is free to do whatever he/she wants within the few boundaries of the piece. This is very different from traditional pieces of music which usually dictate most of what is to be played and done, and leaves not very much for interpretation and freedom in terms of performing, or rather, creating a musical atmosphere between the listener and the performer. This is an interesting concept that is something similar to that of an animal in a zoo: free to roam within his boundaries. The argument that comes up against this metaphorical tiger, that he is too wild even within his boundaries. In defense of this, John Cage argues that Takehisa Kousugi’s Anima 7 is a prime example of extreme control within a piece that a performer is free to do whatever he wishes to do.[8] Within Anima 7 the performer is free to do whatever he wants. The piece is over, however, once the B-flat note is played on the piano. This task that is presented to us is the “redefinition of the traditional performing sequence”.[9] It introduces something sport-like to us creating something in the moment, but still within the boundaries. Like in ping-pong, we’re waiting for our opponent to serve, and we know that we need to hit it back, but whatever happens in between and how these occurrences take place is entirely in the moment and up to the performers. This mentality can be applied to almost anything as well. We can create our own instruments and play them completely differently. My father, Kevin Norton, loves to do this in his compositions, and frequently uses canned food tops in replace of chimes and bows the cymbals of his drum set in order to create a completely new sound. John Cage did something similar to this in his piece The Wonderful Widow of Eighteen Springs when he performed the percussive action of the fingertips and knuckles on the closed keyboard lid.[10] This constant deconstruction of music allows experimental music to question what music really is. It’s this idea that is the basis of minimalism. In deconstructing music, we have created a baby tiger, to grow up and becoming something wild and free. In order to nurture music, the composer needs to set boundaries and help it grow. Composers have complete control over what they create. They can dictate performers to execute intricate arpeggios and lines and even tell the performers exactly how loud and fast they should play. But even the notion of the composer was challenged in Experimental music. One such idea that follows suite is the changing of the notations of music. Notes on paper are only there to dictate to us what is to be played. We see an open circle in between the bottom two lines on a bass clef and play an A. However, what if we wanted you to play an A whenever there was a Square on the page and a B if there was a circle? The notation is really what “the composer initially ‘heard’” and the “reproduction” of this “representation” [11] of sound is what the performer is playing. Here, these graphical notations can represent anything, and it just means whatever the performer assigns to each symbol. This is the freedom in which the deconstruction of music created for minimalistic music. The element here is the simple idea of notation: that notes on the page only stand for what to play, not what to play itself. Using Graphical notation, we can play whatever we set the graphics to be. This, once again, is the power of the deconstruction of music. What branched off of this point were composers who wanted to outline “a situation in which sounds may occur, [and] a process of generating action”.[12] It’s this idea that Steve Reich outlined in his manifesto Music as a Gradual Process. It seems slightly different from experimental composers whose processes created the music; Reich proposed that music was, in itself, a process. He stated that “once the process is set up and loaded it runs by itself”.[13] This process itself is the reconstruction of music, by starting small, with the elements leftover from the deconstruction of music. Experimental composers seemed a bit more methodical in challenging music, creating such intricate processes such as Cardew’s Schooltime Special. It could seem that musical processes destroy the creative aspect of music but in reality, it gives certain limitlessness to the music. That, “within limits, anything goes”.[14] Ultimately, it is music that becomes the process itself, and that musicians are free to wander with each other in music. By deconstructing music, processes were created by starting with the small elements left over. In this way, minimalism was formed. [Minimalism] cuts down the area of sound-activity to an absolute and absolutist minimum, but submits the scrupulously selective mainly tonal, material to mostly repetitive, highly disciplined procedures which are focused with an extremely fine definition.[15] In creating music that constantly repeats itself, we create for the listener a comfortable setting in which he accepts what he is hearing, and grows accustomed to it. By having this stability that, as humans, we all desire, the listener is drawn into the music.[16] The composer is then free to do whatever he wants. Once the boundaries are set, you can get as far out as you want if you relate it to a constant[17] because “a certain sound has no relevance outside of its composition”. [18] Nam June Paik illustrates this idea with the idea of sex, that sex is a “one-direction crescendo” and having this fixed for destroys “the possibility of a free and calm love”.[19] This is a very interesting point that enters into most of western music- the idea of music growing bigger and bigger until it escalates into an orgasm, then drops out, and comes back in. Because we’re so drawn to this form, music has used this, over and over again in all different genres of music in order to present this sexually-driven atmospheric music that people can enjoy. It seems odd, but even through the deconstruction of music, this human aspect of music remains even today. There may not be an “orgasm” moment in certain pieces of minimalist music, but the music still comes around full circle. It seems almost impossible to break free of this cultural idea that everything comes around. La Monte Young’s idea that sounds never end seems to be a rebellion to the idea of coming around full circle. Japanese break-dancer Katsu attempted to bring the audience into his world when he performed at the Battle of the Year 2005.[20] It seems almost impossible for a performer not to perform; the existence of a performer is to do such a task, and get across a message. Just like a break dancer’s medium to express his ideas through dance, and the combination of athleticism and artistry, the musical performer must do the same with his music. But, this love that Nam June Paik speaks about isn’t meant to be kept a secret, which is why listening is the next, and is important for all types of music. Face it, if no one’s around to hear music, it makes no sound. The listener is the other half of the musical experience and atmosphere. Let us look at La Monte Young’s experience with sound. An early memory he has is that of “hearing the wind blow between the criss-crossed logs”.[21] This sound wasn’t something he could just turn off “like somebody would turn off the radio”.[22] Young’s ideas and “goal was to free sound from time.”[23] The only way for the listener to hear this was to listen to a sound that would either, never truly end, or to find the constant sounds that Young heard in his own life, whether it be electrical power lines, crickets or an electric motor.[24] Here, in Young’s pieces, he breaks down the barrier between the audience and the performer. Both of them are in a sense, listeners, listening to what is happening around them. The piece 4’33” gives us something unlike anything else. It’s the “demonstration of the non-existence of silence.[25] Within this piece, even the coughs, the rustling and even the shifting of the performer on stage create noise. Through examples such as this, the barrier between the performer and the listener is broken down. In this instance, the deconstruction of music comes from the idea of there always being a set performer and a set listener. In addition to this, the perception of the listener is always different. For instance, while walking around The Dream House, lights and sounds are constantly emitted and changing. The perception of the listener is always changing as he moves around the room.[26] He experiences different volumes and sounds and overlapping of different sounds. Here, the listener is part of the performance. In creating, literally, an atmosphere, the listener is brought into the piece and isn’t just a static listener. But where does Sigur Ros and Minimalism fit into all of this? Into the deconstruction of music? Well, pretty much in the center. Once we’ve broken down the elements of music, and we’re left with nothing, we build it back up again, continuing to challenge what it means to be music. In order to show that sound only stops and ends when time doesn’t exist, we create a long droning tone that, in a sense, never really ends, but is the basis for everything that comes afterwards. We hear the long drawn out tones that are so characteristic of Minimalistic music, and the repetitive pulses that are never-ceasing in In C. This is representative of the things we hear in life, constantly, representative of the never ceasing sound. So what minimalism does, is creates music, minimally. The music that emerges is representative of something that has “no point of culmination” and “establishes no goals toward which to move”. “This music is simply there”.[27] The duality, or rather, the relationships that are always within tradition music ceases to be there, and just as John Cage said, it exists only in its own moment, without symbols or analysis. Terry Riley’s music is characteristic of this. It’s an interesting statement, but there exists within minimalist music a “perpetual motion within a completely static music environment”.[28] Terry Riley’s In C builds upon itself, and is individualistic in its own right, that the piece will never be the same. His pieces are not necessarily composed, and Michael Nyman states that he is “essentially a performer and improviser who composes”.[29] One might think that certain emotions are lost in a music that is so static, but it seems that rather than just losing this sexually oriented type of music[30] he’s created a certain atmosphere that is a result of these artists growing up through “pop” music. This atmosphere changes, regardless of how “minimal” the music may seem. Repetition, buildup, vamping, fading out are all traits of minimalism that result from the natural exploration of the musical traits, not derived from a sexually-oriented culture. Sigur Ros isn’t a minimalist band, but they definitely embody, with or without knowing it, almost all of these ideas. Let’s begin with the idea of breaking down the barrier between the listener and the performer. In Sigur Ros’ film, Heima, the band members wanted to return home, in order to play at small venues across Iceland. These small venues allowed the band to play with a different mindset. Instead of performing, it changed the focus from the band themselves, to what they were playing. The atmosphere that was created by the songs started with their tempo. Most of their songs all have a constant slow march-like tempo. Glósoli is one such piece that has a constant pulse that continues throughout the entire piece. Only at the bridge does the pulse increase in tempo. If anything, the music video for Glósoli gives us a visual counterpart for this pulse: a large group of kids walking, or rather, marching to the top of a hilltop. On top of this is a bass line that never changes, again, with an exception at the bridge. In continuing this idea of droning sounds, the vocals are long, drawn out, and falsetto. In this sense, the music never ends, until the band decides to end it. Once again, during the bridge, the vocals increase in intensity, not necessarily in length. Here, the influence of the sexually-driven culture is pervasive. It seems almost impossible to leave it, unless there is extreme control in which it is executed with (like in experimental music). In both performance and composition Sigur Ros “just play[s] until some atmosphere”[31] is created. While in the composition phase, they like to do this as well. In different interviews, they have stated that when they come together to “write” songs they “just wanted to make music”[32] and “just meet and play”.[33] If anything, this is what has allowed the sexually-driven culture to come through. That, without the preconditioned processes that experimentalism had, they ended up creating the idea of the orgasm in music. However, if we place this as something that is bound to happen, as a condition such as the ping pong game, we can see that they are still allowing the piece to flow freely, without time constraints until they feel it is ready to move on to this orgasm like experience. This creates the individuality and the idea that both experimentalist and minimalist music exist truly, in the moment that it’s in, without symbols or analysis. Even some of the lyrics of Sigur Ros are made up. Lead singer Jón Þór Birgisson stated that his made up language Hopelandic is just (sic) “fucking bullshit”.[34] Said sarcastically, it only furthers to show that lyrics do not need to hold value to them. Just as musical notations are only representations, and that any symbol could really replace musical notes, lyrics hold the same. This is just another instance in which the deconstruction, and therefore, reconstruction of music has made its way into Sigur Ros’ music. Because experimentalist music questioned and broke down what certain notations meant, it allowed everything that came after it to be free of this. Sigur Ros’ lyrics don’t have to mean anything or represent anything other than what it is in this moment. By challenging these norms, Sigur Ros enters into the minimalistic playing field. They are still held back by their post-rock buildups, but even so, this is how their process works in order to create an atmosphere that the listener can just get lost in. All in all, Sigur Ros embodies the results that experimental music found, and the ideals that minimalistic music came to be known for. Culturally, this places an interesting hold on the music we listen to today. Music doesn’t need to be what it was, but can be anything we want it to be, as a reflection, not a representation, of whatever we wish to listen to and play. The freedom of looped tapes may have lead to dance artists such as Girl Talk and rappers such as Lupe Fiasco using demos in all of their pieces. And singing doesn’t need to be singing, but maybe even talking or screaming. mewithoutYou is one such band that utilizes spoken, almost preachy, lyrics that are definitely not what one would call normal. On the other spectrum, post-hardcore and metal bands are utilizing screaming more and more in their music. By deconstructing music, we have the freedom to re-create whatever we want to. Time and time again, music has been challenged and been pushed to evolve into all the different types of music we have today. Experimentalism and Minimalism was just another stage in which music was challenged and Sigur Ros was just a band to bring all of it to the forefront. The deconstruction of music ultimately gives us the freedom to rebuild it into whatever we want it to be. We don’t have to sit down and repeat what’s been done, we have the freedom to compose, write down and perform whatever we want. In taking this aspect of music out, we have created our own music. In this odd sense, one might say that minimalist music is the true punk music. Let us think of a table. What makes a table, a table? Is it its shape? Or rather is it it’s function? Music was sung in choirs, and was used to tell stories. Does the shape of music constitute that it is music? Does the feeling we get from metal screaming or the flow of rapping mean that music cannot be just one thing? Experimentalism destroyed these preconceptions we had of music and Minimalism took what resulted from this and embodied it. If you wish to see the minimalistic aesthetics and elements in motion, you need not look further than Sigur Ros. They took the minimal ideas that were the result of the deconstruction of music and added on to it with their own twist. The true test of the idea behind minimalism will become apparent as new music continues to challenge what it exactly means for music to be “music”. This is ultimately the result and mission statement for both minimalism and experimentalism: to take music as far as it can go within its constantly changing boundaries.

[1] Reich, Steve. "Music as a Gradual Process." (1968). [2] Nyman, Michael. Experimental music Cage and beyond. New York: Schirmer Books, 1974. 1. [3] Nyman 2. [4] Nyman 3, 13, 20. [5] Nyman 119. [6] Nyman 1. [7] Nyman 9-10. [8] Nyman 13-14. [9] Nyman 14. [10] Nyman 18. [11] Nyman 3. [12] Nyman 3. [13] Reich 1. [14] Nyman 119. [15] Nyman 119. [16] Robert Jourdan, Music, the Brain, And Ecstasy: How Music Captures Our Imagination. (New York: First Avon Books, 1998) 63. [17] Nyman 125. [18] Nyman 8. [19] Fink 31. [20] Planet B-Boy. Dir. Benson Lee. Prod. Benson Lee, Amy Lo, Johnny Lee, Chris C. Kim, and Danny Huang. Perf. Gamblerz, Ichigeki, Knucklehead Zoo, Last For One, Phase T, Ken Swift, Storm, Thomas Hergenröther, Trac 2. DVD. Elephant Eye Films, 2008. [21] Broyles, Michael. Mavericks and Other Traditions in American Music. New York: Yale UP, 2004. 244. [22] Broyles 244. [23] Broyles 247. [24] Broyles 244. [25] Nyman 22. [26] Broyles 246. [27] Fink 32. [28] Nyman 124. [29] Nyman 124. [30] Fink 32. [31] Heima: a film by Sigur Ros. Dir. Dean DeBlois. Prod. John Best, Dean O'Connor, and Finni Jóhansson. Perf. Sigur Ros. [32] "When Good Interviews Go Bad." Interview with Luke Burbank. The Bryant Park Project. NPR. WNYC-FM, New York, NY. 10 Oct. 2007. [33] "Sigur RÃ³s interview October 2007." Interview with Verity Sharp. YouTube - Sigur RÃ³s interview October 2007. 24 Oct. 2007. 21 Apr. 2009 . [34] “When Good Interviews Go Bad.”

Sorry about that... apparently Copy + Pasting doesn't work with Word and Blogspot....

BUT.

If you got to the end of all of that...and actually read all of it... thanks =D hahahaha
I wanted to put that up as well so maybe you could get a little more insight to what I think about music, er, or some parts of music.
I like this "blogging" thing.
Bye.

Hi.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Audience of One Ministries?

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Zombies...

Sunday, May 24, 2009

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