Music Blog

I spoke with Greg Saunier of Deerhoof for three hours on the telephone one evening last week. Somewhere mid-conversation, I say: “So if we look at the history of music, if we look back, say, one hundred years, maybe we could see this trajectory of humankind moving further and further away from real deeply felt experiences with music.”

“It’s funny that you should say one hundred years,” he responds, “because in 1909, all people could talk about was how fast everything was moving. And then these industrialized futurists appeared with mechanical sounds. And they deliberately mocked what had been considered traditional artistic values by using ugly sounds and repetition and inventing noise making machines.

“The speed of change as it is reflected in the arts,” he continued, “for many that was seen as a very negative thing, but for some artists, who are now seen as pioneers or as heroes, this wasn’t something to be sad about; all that speed and sheer volume was something to be inspired by.” 

And he's right. Revolt tears down walls to new worlds that might not have otherwise seen the light of day. Simply put: change is unstoppable and, much of the time, change is good, it's natural, it's in us. Yet change also signifies a loss or sacrifice of some kind. What are we trading as we increasingly allow high-tech culture to dictate our musical experience? The convenience and speed is fantastic, sure, but what are we giving up in exchange? Or is it, in spite of every new advancement, nothing? 

Saunier used the 1901 invention of the phonograph, commercially known as the Victrola or the “Talking Machine,” as an example of how, upon its introduction to the public, people everywhere recoiled and feared it would soon destroy the deeply felt, artful experience of music. “The idea of the mass reproduction of music was a crime,” he said, “it removed the aura of a live performance and replaced it with this repeatable thing that can be produced by a machine and listened to in any situation. It was normally claimed that that was going to be the destruction of music. And no matter how many times it’s been claimed that this is going to be the death of art or music, people kept listening and people kept making it. It seems to continue.”

And I agree with him but then suggest that perhaps we are missing something but do not know what. Perhaps our emotional connection to music has weakened, only adaptation and perception has kept us from feeling conscious of what's been lost. Clearly, every passing generation bemoans over what the next is to endure, and the predictability of such makes their claims easy to dismiss, but what if they have a point? What if every advancement in time is, in fact, forcing humankind down a spiral on which heartfelt life experience slowly erodes? That, or humanity is simply spinning through a series of inevitable cycles guaranteed to maintain life experience that is eternally cherished, loved and immune to the passing of time.