Quote of the Month

Quote of the Month

Posted by PH on October 31, 2015
Quote of the Month / No Comments

Make the present your past, enter the flux before it gets frozen over, write about change, write about transformation.

William H. Gass

Tags:

Quote of the Month

Posted by PH on September 13, 2015
Quote of the Month / No Comments

If Pac-Man had affected us as kids, we’d all be running around in dark rooms, munching pills and listening to repetitive electronic music.

Marcus Brigstocke

Tags: ,

Quote of the Month

Posted by PH on May 25, 2015
Music & Technology, Quote of the Month / No Comments

So, real musical rhythm comes when you listen to the note that’s been played before you, and you know when and where to place your note—and you listen to the note that comes after! This is how ensembles swing […] It’s really all about listening and having a strong enough understanding of where the beat is. You can intentionally pull on the fabric of time, pushing at the edge of the tempo. This could be achieved even harmonically: Ron Carter was a very good example, the way he played with Miles; that’s what he would do: push the pitch of a note, and depending on where he placed it—and the way Tony Williams responded—this all contributes to creating a lot of surface tension. And it is tension that requires resolution of some sort: tension – release – tension – release… Almost like a heartbeat! This is why poetic music is ultimately more satisfying than marching bands or disco, because in most of that music there’s no syncopation, it’s just (beating on the table: beat – beat – beat – beat). There’s not a whole lot there beside the pounding pulse. Music requires a steady beat, but it also needs flexibility. Time awareness is not about trying to play like a metronome.

 

I like [playing musics] that have a lot more mystery, and are not so—what’s the word?—so obvious or arranged. I like what we don’t say, that’s more interesting to me. So it’s almost anti-drumming in that context. Which again takes us back to the whole time-awareness thing. It’s what you don’t play that makes everything else work. If you play everything, supply every bit of information, there’s nothing left for the imagination of the audience! You’re playing a musical form of pornography at that point, right?

Peter Erskine

Tags:

Quote of the Month

Posted by PH on July 22, 2013
Quote of the Month / No Comments

Our imaginations, haunted by the old archetypes, have remained far behind the sophistication of the machines. The various attempts to integrate modern science into new myths remain inadequate. Meanwhile abstraction has invaded all the arts, contemporary architecture in particular. Pure plasticity, inanimate and storyless, soothes the eye. Elsewhere other fragmentary beauties can be found — while the promised land of new syntheses continually recedes into the distance. Everyone wavers between the emotionally still-alive past and the already dead future.

A mental disease has swept the planet: banalization. Everyone is hypnotized by production and conveniences — sewage systems, elevators, bathrooms, washing machines. This state of affairs, arising out of a struggle against poverty, has overshot its ultimate goal—the liberation of humanity from material cares—and become an omnipresent obsessive image. Presented with the alternative of love or a garbage disposal unit, young people of all countries have chosen the garbage disposal unit.

Ivan Chtcheglov

Share

Tags:

Quote of the Month

Posted by PH on July 22, 2013
Quote of the Month / No Comments

Our struggle is to open every moment and fill it with an activity that does not contribute to the reproduction of capital. Stop making capitalism and do something else, something sensible, something beautiful and enjoyable. Stop creating the system that is destroying us. We only live once, why use our time to destroy our own existence? Surely we can do something better with our lives. Revolution is not about destroying capitalism, but about refusing to create it.

John Holloway

Share

Tags:

Quote of the Month

Posted by PH on July 20, 2013
Quote of the Month, Resonant Interval / No Comments

Our language is in a state of vast humiliation, it no longer describes the world in which we live. It describes a world that’s not here any more.

Godfrey Reggio

You have to be writing for the future, not the present. If you aren’t writing for what’s going to happen, you’re too late.

Philip Glass

Share

Tags: ,

Quote of the Month

The background to the organized sound of Gregorian chant, in a mediaeval monastic community, was not random noise. Silence—the silence of nature itself, in which the random noises of culture were swallowed up—was one of the facts of mediaeval life, outside the cloister as inside it. Against the quietness that enveloped the ear, and the tracts of unaltered nature—wood, bramble, heath, swamp—that made up its solid equivalent, any designed structure of sound or stone acquired a corresponding rarity and singularity. In an ill-articulated world, a place not yet crammed with signs, images, and designed objects, the impact of a choir heard in the vast petrified forest of a Gothic cathedral might well have exceeded anything we take for “normal” cultural experience today. Now we see the same cathedral through a vast filter that includes our eclectic knowledge of all other cathedrals (visited or seen in photographs), all other styles of buildings from primitive nuraghi to the World Trade Centre, the ads in the street outside it, the desanctification of the building, its conversion into one more museum-to-itself, the secular essence of our culture, the memory of “mediaeval” sideshows at Disney World, and so and so forth; while similar transpositions have happened to the matrix in which we hear music. The choir competes, in our unconscious, with jack-hammers, car brakes, and passing 747s, not merely the rattle of a cart or the lowing of cattle. Nor does the chant necessarily seem unique, for one can go home and listen to something very like it on the stereo. Because nothing could be retrieved or reproduced, the pre-technological ear listened to—as the pre-technological eye was obliged to scrutinize—one thing at a time. Objects and images could not, except at the cost of great labour, be reproduced or multiplied. There was no print, no film, no cathode-ray tube. Each object, singular; each act of seeing transitive. The idea that we would live immersed in a haze of almost undifferentiated images, that the social function of this image-haze would be to erode distinctions rather than multiply the possible discriminations about reality, would have been unthinkable to our great-grandparents—let alone our remote ancestors.

Robert Hughes

We live in a world in which change is primarily driven by emergent technology. We live in a world in which, I suspect, technology trumps ideology, every time.

[…]

Our reaction to these things is amazingly similar to the reaction of the Victorians to technologies like the railroad and the gramophone. If you go back to first-person accounts—diary entries of individuals encountering those things—it wasn’t like, “Wow, that’s wonderful!” They were scared shitless. They were reeling with the shock of the new. They didn’t know where anything was headed, and it made them sort of angry, often as not. I think it’s the way we react to these things.

The surprising thing about it – I almost said the insidious thing, but I’m trying to be anthropological—the surprising thing, to me, is that once we have our gramophone, or iPad, or locomotive, we become that which has the gramophone, the iPad, or the locomotive, and thereby, are instantly incapable of recognizing what just happened to us, as I believe we’re incapable of understanding what broadcast television, or the radio, or telephony did to us.

I strongly suspect that prior to those things we were something else. In that regard, our predecessors are in a sense unknowable. Imagine a world without recorded music: I always come to the conclusion that it’s impossible for me to imagine that, because I have become that which lives with recorded music.

William Gibson

Minimalism in music is the avante-garde sound of absolute frequency. Listening to pulsed minimal music, hearing every repetition, is like having the experience not of one consumer, but of all consumers at once. You are the mass market, and you feel the entire pressure of the mass media’s power to construct desire—in other words, in a consumer society, the irresistible power to construct subjectivity itself—directly on your consciousness. The impossible attempt to represent that pressure directly gives the music its teleology, its content—and ultimately its shock and awe. It is not necessarily an unpleasant sensation; it can be quite literally entrancing, as the shoppers floating down the aisles of the local supermarket right now could tell you. In minimal music, the message is the (direct perception of the power of the) media. Or, more pithily, after McLuhan:

In minimal music, the media (sublime) is the message.

Robert Fink

Share

Tags: , , , , ,

Quote of the Month

Posted by PH on December 31, 2012
Narrative, Quote of the Month / No Comments

“Stories are like snapshots, son, pictures snatched out of time,” he said, “with clean, hard edges. But this was life, and life always begins and ends in a bloody muddle, womb to womb, just one big mess, a can of worms left to rot in the sun.”

James Crumley

Share

Tags:

Quote of the Month

Posted by PH on December 06, 2012
Music & Technology, Quote of the Month / No Comments

When music occupies so much cultural space, you yearn for any noise that wasn’t meant to be music, that is fresh and complicated and free from intention (and therefore available for aesthetic invention).

Brian Eno

Share

Tags: ,

Quote of the Month

Posted by PH on September 12, 2012
Music & Technology, Quote of the Month / No Comments

I have a strong belief that physical media will in some form make a comeback, whether it will be records or something else. I just can’t imagine a future where one’s music and book collection are only digital. It sort of misses the point of having a collection. Part of the fun of collecting is finding these physical objects that are tangible. While watching the new Comic-Con documentary, I had this thought that no one values PDFs of classic comic books, or JPEGs of hard-to-find baseball cards. The real physical item has great importance. This is why we love to collect records. I think people will start to miss that the more it disappears.

John Tejada

Share

Tags: ,