The second one to the right

Early on we learn that music has strong beats and weak beats (and medium beats too, oh my!). Knowing the placements of these beats allows us to recognise the metre of a piece when listening (and adjust for changing metres), and tells us where to move to in a bar. Even when we start disregarding multiple beats in a bar (in faster tempi) or breaking down beats into further subdivisions, it's all pretty straightforward. Move to the strong beat(s). I think even those without conducting experience can easily follow along to a piece of classical music and know where the downbeats belong (even if they don't know specifically it's a "downbeat").

Rock music seems to treat the idea of downbeat somewhat differently. The standard rock beat has a snare hit on beats two and four--are they accented off beats? Can a syncopation that lasts for an entire song--and in thousands of songs--still even be considered a syncopation? Or is it even an accent? It could be that the bass pedal we frequently hear on beat one (and three, though sometimes as two eighth notes or just on the second half of the beat) is interpreted as "strong" and the subsequent snare hit is then processed as "weak." After all, music is always about context. But I'm not convinced. After all, the bass drum is "softer," more subliminal, often blending with a note played on the bass guitar, whereas the snare is a sharp contrast: it's very noticeable. When a band gets the audience to clap along, we clap on the "offbeats" with the snare. I think this can be partly explained by the timbral quality of our claps, but isn't it also because we feel the music moving towards the second and fourth beats?  We bob our heads on two and four. So if this is no longer a syncopation, does that mean our entire view of rock music has been shifted by one beat? This article, while not directly relating to these musings do make an interesting related point.

The snare hit also helps determine the overall apparent speed of the music. When there is a shift from two snare hits to four per bar, suddenly the music is galloping along, even if nothing else has changed. Where are the strong beats now? It's as if we're using hypermetres now, but also compressed the bars (or something). I'm not quite sure how to explain that one, but I have noticed that speeding up the snare affects the overall apparent tempo more than any other factor. Now we have four downbeats. Another peculiar effect occurs when there is a snare on every beat, but it has been shifted to the second half of the beat. This sounds perfectly normal while you're listening to it. But it has happened before that I've gotten in the car and the CD has resumed playing in one of these particular passages. Two things happen: first, I recognise that the snare beat in rock means "strong." Then I correct the measures to hear those snare hits as being on the first half of the beat. It's an extremely confusing experience because my brain is in conflict. It knows that the music sounds wrong because it knows the other things going on (vocals, keys, etc.) now sound displaced. But it has trouble reconciling the (actual) displacement of the snare hits. It has taken me up to a minute (or until the drumming pattern changes) for me to correct the rhythm.

This standard use of bass and snare drums to denote first/third and second/fourth beats obviously has its limitations. This will only work in common time, and shifting the snare to beats one and three would create a truly bizarre "syncopation." In shifting to triple metres, I've found the most common use of snare to be on every beat, at the beginning of every bar, or at the beginning of every other bar (effectively turning it into duple time subdivided into triplets). This is, of course a generalisation, and I'm talking about establishing a regular rhythmic pattern.

The uses of bass drum and snare drum/hi-hat in trance and dance/electronica is a completely different matter, however. One, perhaps better left for another time.

Conducting Nature

Following up on the last post, I've been thinking about several things that I'll try to at least touch upon.

First off is the issue of adapting trance or trance-like elements to a classical music setting. The reverse has been done many times, quite successfully I might add. In fact, classical music has been adapted to or sampled in just about every kind of music, and when it is done competently it works. 

Why then, does it seem that when other styles of music are performed "in a classical style" they seem to fall quite short of the mark? How many times I've heard "the Beatles for orchestra" or "such-and-such a band in the style of Mozart," and it never works for me. It sounds contrived. It sounds like a square peg trying to be forced into a triangular slot. If I hear one more person ask me if I've heard Metallica play with an orchestra...I'm sorry, but it does not sound quite right. The thing about setting rock music to an orchestral setting is that (a) the music was not originally conceived with an orchestra in mind and (b) the original music lacks a certain "compatiblility." The second point is a more subjective one, yes, but I feel it's true. Metallica is really playing with an orchestra. There is no sense of fusion. Rock/metal/pop can be combined with an orchestra, but the piece has to allow room for the sounds of the orchestra. Otherwise you're just writing a song and trying to cram 52 extra pieces in afterwards.

So, is classical music the problem then? Is it not "adaptable" or "flexible?" Can it not accomodate other sounds and styles? I hope this is not the case, for it would just prove further that there is a rift between the two worlds. But the problem for me is that it can work one way, but does not seem to be quite as successful the other way. Specifically regarding trance elements in classical music: I think it's possible, under certain circumstances. Trance is often conceived on a large scale, with very gradual development. Single pieces are usually upwards of six minutes long, trance compilations span two full compact discs and concerts will last five or more hours. A symphony could be compared to a compilation disc. While the symphony may only have three movements to the disc's 14 tracks, and the symphony will draw on only a few contained themes compared to the contrasting tracks on the disc, I think they share in their development of moods and ideas. So with regards to the music itself, there is no reason it couldn't be played by an orchestra.

However, I see several problems arising. How closely does one follow the adaptation? For instance, an orchestra cannot produce electronic sounds (assuming a live setting using only acoustic instruments) which is a trademark of trance, dance and electronica. Nevertheless, if you try to put together a trance track piece by piece in an orchestra as you would in a studio, that's where I think you fall short. Then you're trying to recreate instead of adapt. If you want to recreate, use the original materials and means. Still, one has to question how effective a translation can be without some of the most important original elements--which also includes the thumping bass beats. Do they stay? One of Glenn Gould's problems with rock music is that it has an unchanging tempo. There's no room for it to breathe, he said. I can only imagine what kind of a reaction he would have had to five hours of constant pulsing.

There is also the issue of mood and setting. Going to a trance show is an experience wholly separate from a classical music concert. Part of the experience of trance is movement. It's about getting out on the floor and dancing and not just enjoying the music aurally, but feeling it. Could an orchestral setting capture this? Not the whole thing, no. I think you could apply trance elements if you were clever about it, but trying to recreate the whole of it would leave you feeling like something is missing.

That brings me to the next issue. Regarding the setting I presented in my last post (about jogging), I don't think you can recreate that in music. At least, it would be pointless to. Suppose I found some way to organise and notate it such that I had four distinct sections that were reproducing the proper rhythms of the music, my heart, my breathing and my footsteps. What then? Would I actually try to mimic the original sounds? Or would I attempt musical interpretations of them? That seems unnatural. And I think that's where music that attempts to capture the sounds of nature does not succeed. Writing a piece with birds singing and leaves rustling in the wind is as futile as going out into the forest and asking the elements to work with you--could the birds be a little louder?, and would that dog stop barking for just a moment?, and why is it raining today?

One rainy morning

I was rather taken by the extra-ordinary (and yet natural) music that took place whilst jogging this morning. Rather unwittingly I had created an extremely complex layering of rhythms and metres. And, somehow, they did not interfere with one another or create harsh contradictions.

First was the obvious music. The constant flowing pulse of the trance that I was plugged into, with its steady thumping bass beat and unchanging tempo. Within this itself there were already layers.

Next was my heart. Not always noticeable, but pounding more and more in my ears as my speed increased and my heart rate went up. More or less steady, but without the exactness of the bass drum. Not only was it moving to a different beat, but it pulsed with a sort of ta-dum, ta-dum against the trance’s single beat.

The crunching gravel beneath my feet set up another more audible layer—audible like the music, but also physical like my heart. It too created a new a rhythm tch-ka, tch-ka, tch-ka, tch-ka, as each foot made contact and then moved the earth beneath me before leaving, only to be replaced in time with the next foot. Again, my feet moved independently of the others.

Finally came my breath. By far the slowest of the four, both physical and audible as with my feet, but less percussive than the others. A certain sharpness to the initial intake and exhale, but otherwise soft and smooth.

By traditional standards, they were not in concert, but somehow, all working together. Changing one would affect the others. Strangely, I was not bothered by this apparent lack of unity. Only when I concentrated on their differences did I notice and feel like I was being torn in all directions. If I tried to think about my breathing it would throw off my step. If I attempted to match my step to the pulse of the trance, my breath would have to be adjusted. But left alone they worked together quite nicely.

I have found trance to be the best kind of music to exercise to. If I were to listen to another album with tracks of varying tempi, I find my other rhythms are disturbed. Adjustments have to be made and the energy does not flow consistently or smoothly.