BY ANGUS DAVISON
We have to talk about talking about music.
The language we use to discuss music is deeply entrenched. Ask ‘what is music?’ to a room of people, and you can safely bet most people will use the words ‘expression’, ’emotion’, or ‘meaning’. Until late, I too thought about music in similar terms. Recently though, I’ve come to find this discourse deficient. As my listening broadens, I find this type of language inadequate to discuss much of the music which most excites me.
But what does it matter?
Well, I believe the limitations of our musical discourse are contributing to a bias against music not readily discussable in its familiar terms. This, in turn, has led to the neglect of some of the most worthwhile music ever written. Something has to change.
Music theorist Walter Piston once cautioned that “theory must follow practice” – basically, if composers followed the textbook, musical development would stagnate. Similarly, discourse must follow music, not vice versa. Faced with music not discussable in familiar terms, we must question the discourse before assuming the music is lacking.
So, let’s question the discourse. ‘Expression’, ’emotion’, ‘meaning’ – these terms carry implicit assumptions about the significance of the individual, of self, of music being somehow more than just sound, something to be ‘understood’. They’re useful for discussing works with a narrative or program, and works that are clearly meant to promote an emotional response. But if, for no reason, we can find beauty in the sound of waves hitting the sand, can find interest in a printer whirring through our print job, can take pleasure in the fleeting interplay of a bird call and reversing truck beep, surely that tells us something. Surely it tells us not everything has to ‘mean’ something to be worth our time. Depending on your level of empathy with the whirring printer scenario you might, like me, have concluded our musical discourse is misguided and misguiding in equally mind-bogglingly measure. If you thought the printer thing was weird, you’re totally missing out, but hopefully you’ll have got the wave thing and have concluded our musical discourse is imperfect. Because imperfect it is.
Sadly though, many people don’t question the discourse. You might say it shows people are satisfied with what they already get from music. Perhaps it’s symptomatic of a crippling inability for independent thought on a societal level. Whatever the reason, the fact is this: Language that should only be descriptive of music, has in the minds of many become prescriptive. The result? Distressing numbers of listeners dismiss music that’s unexplainable within their current way of talking about music, dismiss music which has priorities other than emotion and expression, that doesn’t ‘mean’ anything and isn’t intended to be ‘understood’.
It’s a deeply saddening state of affairs. By assuming a defective discourse unassailable, listeners are limiting themselves greatly. More, far more, than they know. We need to realise our current way of talking and thinking about music is fundamentally flawed and find new ways of interacting with music. The rewards of doing so are too significant not to prioritise.
But if our attitudes to music are to change, we need new linguistic tools. We need a broader, more inclusive discourse. One that isn’t prescriptive of music, only of our approach to listening. So let’s get the conversation going. For my part, here are some changes in conception that helped me make the transition to a freer, ultimately more rewarding attitude to music. I don’t claim they’re perfect an entirely unique formulation, but they facilitated for me a new approach to listening:
1. Rather than looking for meaning and to understand, look to simply experience.
2. Rather than listening for expression or emotion, listen simply for sound.
This shift not only has allowed me to appreciate differently music I already know, but to appreciate far more – and I’m not just talking about whirring printers. So, let’s do it. Let’s learn to talk about music differently, and learn to listen afresh.
Image: Flickr (Alexandre Delbos)
Good piece.