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.
4 comments:
First of all, let me say how impressed I am with the fact that you posted a blog even when you didn't have to! Very cool.
Next, I thought this was a very interesting post, and I enjoyed reading it. I wonder if (a) you've ever thought of composing a classical composition related to trance music, or (b) you've ever considered trying to compose a piece that had all the concurrent-but-seemingly-unrelated layers you describe? Notating such a piece would be a challenge, but definitely doable!
I had intended for the blog to be a place for all my musical musings, but never got around to using it before the composition class. Hopefully it'll get some more use soon.
While I have considered classical-influenced trance music, I've never thought about it the other way around, and now the wheels are turning. Tiësto made a brilliant remix of Barber's Adagio for Strings. It really works.
As for your second question, hmmm....I've been thinking on it, and that might be the subject of my next blog entry.
Hey Simon!
This is cool, because mostly when I jog, I pass by the river and always get ideas for writing music. The way you described! The way the water trickles in the river I pass is very interesting. I then think for a while how I could recreate that sound, or write something to represent it. Exercise is such an awesome influence in clearing your mind and getting new ideas!
You should go with this idea for a new composition, it sounds really neat! I'd like to hear it! :)
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