In
another thread I start to rambling on about "unusual" components of music - things that can be done with timing and with the harmonic component that start to introduce elements of surprise that the brain may latch onto if they're well enough done or just switch off from if there's too much and it goes on too long.
I got in this
X-rated Bob wrote
Now... I do know that some people seem to be able to understand, even enjoy more "surprise" and "tension" than I can. I recall some years ago watching John Zorn and David Sanborn (who usually doesn't go down this particular musical route) engaging in some "free improvisation" on some TV show. It seemed to me to have abandoned any concept of tonality or time signature or tempo or anything. Very quickly, for me, it stopped having any kind of form that I could latch on to and I briefly considered Frank Zappa's observation that some modern jazz "sounds like geese honking" and then changed channels.
It may be
a) that some brains are wired differently to others and can take more stretching of structure
b) that some folk have a deeper understanding of musical theory and thus a deeper or more sophisticated appreciation of unusual musical structures
c) the Emperor's new clothes.
I can't say - and I'm biased anyway.
Jack Flash Jr contributed this
Jack Flash Jr wrote
Take a listen to traditional Japanese music for unresolving music... holy cow.
And this is interesting to me because maybe the musical culture that you grew up in determines what is "weird" or "complex" not to mention "conventional" for you. It's none of my (a), (b) or (c) above, it's just growing up in a culture that has very different ideas about music and the way it's structured.
And I think there always is a structure, even if my WASP ears don't get it. Maybe I don't even have a musical culture, but the TV and radio instead. Not the same thing I think.
Let me now present to you a passage from an article by Joe Boyd
How Stalin created World Music. In this article Boyd, who became heavily involved in the then new "world music" scene in the 70s and 80s, talks about a trip he made to a festival in Bulgaria. He contrasts it to the Boston folk music scene that he grew up around.
For three days I wandered around that magical plateau finding astonishments and delights at every turn. Each region had its own stage with a panel of judges marking the performers. Under trees masters of the gaida, the tambura, the gadulka, the khaval and the teppan (bagpipe, lute, upright fiddle, flute and drum respectivley) passed around jars of homemade rakia and jammed for hours, professionals from the Koutev and other ensembles sitting in with village virtuosi. At night, in the campsites, huge circles would be formed near a gaida player and a bonfire and people would dance wildly, shouting to be heard above the wail of the piper. It was one of the most extraordianry weekends of my life.
I thought back to childhood summer evenings in Princeton, new Jersey, when the Folk Dance Society would meet in a park near our house. Those circles were filled with the nerds and wallflowers of the University, young men with pocket guards and slide-rules and girls with glasses, long corduroy skirts and sandals. When a tricky 5/4 or 9/4 rhythm came on the record player, you could see them counting under their breath as they tried to avoid tripping over their own feet or their partner's. Even at a young age I could sense that this was the least sexy thing imaginable.
But that first night in Koprivshtitsa I saw girl's hips swaying easily to the complicated rhythms – no counting under their breath here – and the eye contact that passed back and forth as the men gripped their waists and flung them forward and back across their bodies seemed to indicate that it was not, in fact, an unsexy phenomenon.
These Bulgarian gypsies got the stuff that the guys in Princeton could just about get right if they really thought hard about it. In fact it was beyond "getting" it, it was natural to them. They didnt' have to try, didn't have to figure out the time signature.
I think those of us who have grown up with western popular music may be disadvantaged because we've grown up within a set of constraints that determine what we can easily understand and what sounds natural to us, and those constraints are narrow indeed.