Here’s a new horror instrumental in the vein (Ha Ha – the vein! Get it?) of the Halloween theme mixed in with an Industrial music vibe. Very dark, very evil and thus very good.
Nine Inches of Death (Techno Horror) by Wil Forbis
Lately, I’ve been getting into composing music using the orchestral instruments of the Logic software program. Obviously, I’m familiar with the sounds of the orchestra, but having a chance to really get in there and play with them is in education. I have these moments of “oh, so that’s what a timpani sounds like” etc.
Today I was really enjoying the orchestral horns. There really capable of much more than you initially think. For instance, the trombone has that famous kind of guttural rumble (often used in Dixieland music) but it can also create a very smooth soft tone. Even the tuba can create a very lyrical tone.
In a way, I think each musical instrument is like making love to a woman. Sometimes you’ll be with a woman, gently building the passion of your lovemaking, and she will climax, making a sound not unlike a trombone. Kind of like a “BBBLLAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!” sound. But other women are more like a trumpet. When the passion finally explodes within them, they make sort of a sharp, high-pitched, “FFLLAARRRRRRRRPPPPPPP!!!” scream. Still others are more like a tuba — upon satisfaction, they make a low pitched, kind of “HHHHHRROOONNNKKKKKKK!!”
Anyway, just wanted to share my thoughts with you.
Here’s what I do with my Sundays.
We Have Lift Off by Wil Forbis
I’ve had a few more thoughts on the topic of how our internal state of mind affects our art. But first, take a look at these two pictures.
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At the left is a photo of Milan’s Duomo (originated in the 14th century). The second a modern skyscraper (I’m presuming it’s an artist’s rendering.)
Yesterday I was commenting on the constant interruptions of daily life. The phone calls, the nagging emails, our screaming, annoying children, television blowhards freaking out about this or that etc. Those are, of course, external distractions. But we’ve got internal distractions as well. I was just reading an old interview with the stress doctor Jon Kabat-Zinn who sums these up nicely.
A thought comes up and you’ll say, “Oh, I’ve got to do this,” and you run to do that. Then the next thought comes, and you say, “Oh, I’ve got to do that,” and you run to do it.
From “Healing and the Mind” by Bill Moyers
I read this and thought, “Boy, that is exactly how I think.” Then I thought, “Shit, I’ve gotta check for that email!”
So we’ve got two different kinds of distractions: external (which we have limited control over) and internal (which we have – one hopes – some control over.) I would also surmise that our internal state is “trained” by our external environment. If we are constantly being interrupted in the “real world,” soon our own mind will only be able to focus for short periods (because it’s anticipating the interruptions it’s so used to.)
Now, as I was saying yesterday, in the past we had less external interruptions. In 1450, there wasn’t much to do. If you wanted to write a piece of music (and were lucky enough to have your sustenance needs taken care of) you could sit and write for hours/days without phone calls, emails, facebook updates, television blather, etc. And I presume this lack of external interruption led to “quieter” minds that were less prone to self interruption (of the type described by Kabat-Zinn above.) As a result of all this, people could really focus on producing artistic media with tremendous detail: 12 foot tall paintings with all sort of hidden objects and figures (and obtuse religious connotations), ornate, sky high cathedrals covered with miniature statues of golems and maidens, 20 minute sonatas in which themes are developed via endless variation of tempo, melody, harmony etc.
And a calmer mind isn’t required just to create this art; it’s required to even appreciate it! I get about three minutes into most 20 minute sonatas and my mind is already wandering. I usually don’t have the focus to stay with it.
To recap: in earlier eras people had calmer minds. But, as time went on – as society industrialized, as we became better able to keep precise measurement of time (and thus create the great evil that is the daily organizer), as communication methods expanded from a single town crier to pony express to telegraph to telephone and then instantaneous email – our minds became more and more deluged with interruption.
So how did that affect art? Well, take a look at the above pictures again. The second building is much less ornamental, much simpler, much easier to digest. You can look at that building from a distance and basically “get it,” as opposed to the Duomo which you really have to view up close to appreciate the detail.
Now, if you landed on an alien planet and saw that second building you might think, “Wow, this such serene architecture; I bet these aliens are calm, peaceful creatures with minds devoid of incessant inner chatter.” But I’m thinking that the exact opposite is true. As the mind gets more cluttered, art gets simpler. Why? Because we don’t have the time to focus on creating detailed art, and frankly, we don’t have the time to appreciate it.
Now, as I’ve said before, I’m not knocking minimalism. I like minimalism and I’m not a great fan of ornamentalism (though I’m not virulently opposed to it.) But my larger point here is that what goes on “in here” (pointing to head) has an effect on what shows up “out there.” And it’s an inverse effect. Busy minds = simple art and vice versa*. To examine the history of art is to examine the changing state of the human mind. (To put it another way, “Art history is a subset of psychology.”)
*Obviously this is a broad statement with many exceptions. I also realize that simple, minimalist art is not that simple. But you get my point.
Here’s a new video of me playing an Ike and Tina tune with the talented Tannyr Denby. It’s worth noting that Ike spent his last years in San Diego, where I live, and I’ve played with several drummers who were in his band. This means I’m cool. Very cool.
Lately I’ve gotten very interested in the rather subtle sensations that can be experienced by paying close attention to the interior of the body. This would be sensations of the viscera (which I generally understand to be the guts) and other parts – the muscles, heart, lungs etc. For instance, a couple nights ago I was lying half asleep and heard a clicking sound of the sort that houses often make — the wood of the frame settling a bit or something. My mind said, “Oh, an annoying sound… whatever,” but my body had a noticeable reaction. I felt that feeling of “tinglies” traveling from my neck down to my body. I presume these “tinglies” to be adrenaline released to the body from the brain and I presume the individual “pricks of tingliness” to be this adrenaline stimulating the synapses of various muscle nerves.
From an evolutionary standpoint, this body reaction makes sense. 50,000 years ago, when you were asleep and heard a sound it just might be a saber-tooth tiger so you better wake the fuck up! Hence a jolt of adrenaline.
I also noticed a similar sensation when composing my latest musical masterpiece, “Chamber of Severed Heads.” At one point in the song I added a kind of strange, groaning background sound. I panned it so that it sounded like an ever shifting cloud of evil coming up behind the listener. When I first played the tune with headphones on I got a definite creepy sensation at that point of the song. It’s hard to describe this sensation; it wasn’t “tinglies,” but a certain antsiness.
In a sense, I think creating these reactions in people’s nervous systems is what good music writing is. A composer/performer is creating moments of visceral and interior physical sensations by taking advantage of the “rules” our bodies use when reacting to sounds. The specifics of these rules are vague but they probably evolved in the same way the “ohmigodwhat’sthatsoundgivemeadrenaline” rule described above evolved. These brain/body rules are why the sudden onslaught of a full symphony — after a moment of quiet — gives us a rush, or a guitar lick climbing higher and higher gives us a thrill. I’ve heard the violinist Joshua Bell say he goes to a great deal of planning to create these moments in his performances.
So, a good composer should really be in touch with his body and visceral/interior reactions. But this opens up an interesting question for me. I’m ultimately trying to calm these reactions – to not have shots of adrenaline flying through me whenever I hear a random sound. Heavy meditators like monks (as well as people on tranquilizers) seem to achieve this kind of calm. But would muting your nervous system in such a way make one a worse musician? Would you lose touch with the body sensations that symbolize a thrilling musical moment? Maybe. Certainly I’m aware that many great musicians and composers tend to be flighty, nervous wrecks (which presumably means they are very aware of their nervous system activity). Additionally, the kind of music played during massage and calming therapy is pretty lame or at least unexciting. Does inner peace require an artistic sacrifice?
Here’s a new creepy horror theme I just finished. It’s best listened to while walking around late at night after learning that a deranged killer has escaped from a nearby asylum. But at home in front of your computer works too.
I have a habit of spending some evenings browsing through the various music video channels. And I usually get a pretty broad range of music, going from the country channel, to MTV’s underground channel, to the “urban” channel to pop hits etc. A while back I caught the video below on the country music channel. I took notice because it seemed like an impossibility: a pop country song featuring rap. But, the truth is, it works pretty well.
Also interesting, the musician, Colt Ford (the fat guy), is actually a former pro golfer!
Of course, if we’re paying tribute to country/rap, we need a tip our hat to the innovator of the genre, Travis Shredd.
I’m continually musing on the reality of the ongoing devaluation of music. Lately I’ve been wondering if this could fundamentally change the core of what music is. Let me explain: for thousands of years, perhaps tens of thousands, music has existed in many forms, but it’s basically been an aural experience e.g. it’s experienced by using your ears. It has of course been combined with visual aspects to produce various forms of musical theater that are both heard and seen. For all I know, at some point someone combined music with various scents or tastes, but those would be niche forms. Music has primarily been about what you hear.
So, maybe this form of music — strictly about the ears — is close to passé. Maybe people are tired of only engaging music on one level. Maybe the next big thing will be multimodal music — music combined with other senses. Obviously, that’s been done — that’s basically what a music video is — but I’m saying this will become the standard, not the exception.
Perhaps we could combine music with certain drugs so that every time the song hits the prechorus, you are injected with adrenaline or something. That sounds like a lot of fun.
So I’m back from my Scandinavian adventures. The predictable instances of political intrigue, near death experiences and sexual encounters shall be mentioned forthcoming. But first I wanted to share this cool gypsy jazz song I discovered while overseas. The band, Vaya Con Dias, is a group from Belgium whose heyday was the 80s and 90s.
What a wacked out guitar solo!
Interesting story to how I discovered them. I was in a wine bar in Stockholm watching a competent two person acoustic act and they did a song about a pimp called “Don’t Cry for Louis.” I thought it was pretty interesting and looked it up online to discover it was a Vaya Con Dias song. From there I explored the rest of their catalog.
But back to that wine bar. The crowd was essentially white, young and middle class except for what I took to be a northern African transvestite blasted out of his/her mind. S/he kept getting up and stomping her shoes on the wood floor or walking up to the performers and singing along into their mikes. Eventually the transvestite got kicked out and once outside, flung several glasses and plates into traffic (they shattered on the street, not hitting anyone’s car.)
Those African transvestites in Stockholm know how to party! But you knew that already.
