What is Music

This might end up being a pretty introspective post so you've been warned.

Last night I went to a free jazz performance, something I've never experienced before. For those of you who don't know, free jazz is that kind of jazz where everyone basically just plays what they want in any key, at any tempo, and any volume, creating sound that falls into the category of music in theory, if not in reality. 

I only went because Constantina asked if I'd be interested in tagging along. To be honest when she first asked, my instinct was to decline, citing a distaste for this kind of activity as my reason. However, I then proceeded to spend the whole day working on homework and by the end of that, I needed to go do something. I also realized that I've never actually made any attempt to experience alternative music genres, and if there is anything I've learned over the past half-year or so, its that I (almost) never regret saying yes to things. 

Lean Left (image taken from Tivoli Vredenburg website)

When I arrived at the venue (which was at the top of three escalators and two flights of stairs), I had a healthy dose of scepticism pulsing through my veins. I stepped inside the doors a few minutes after the band had begun, so they were well underway when I entered. The band consisted of four middle-aged men clad in the most dad-inspired outfits you can imagine. There was a drummer, bass guitarist, regular guitarist, and a sax player (who alternated between tenor, baritone, and the clarinet). 

Listening to this kind of "music" is a bit uncomfortable at first. There is often no discernible rhythm or beat to which to bop your head around to, and I wasn't quite sure what to do with my hands. I was left feeling a bit foolish watching four grown men play somewhat randomly like a group of children putting on a performance for their parents with instruments they had only picked up ten minutes ago. I let this discomfort lull me into a defensive state of irony, silently making (hilarious) imaginings to myself about what these guys must be thinking. For example, they'd be going at it for a while, and then the sax player would stop, close his eyes, embrace his instrument, and count (imaginary) beats until he found the perfect moment to play a gorgeous atonal skreech. Or the guitarist seemed unable to find the exact right tool he'd like to use to abuse his instrument (he tried, a rock, a metal rod, even the edge of the stage). It left me wondering a bit how one is deemed "good" at this kind of performance. 

After about ten minutes of resting in this state of sarcastic enjoyment, something started to shift. I realized that the sounds they were playing were actually starting to make me feel something. It wasn't exactly like listening to a song that makes you feel emotional or happy per se, but rather like the sounds were bringing up a context for a feeling that I hadn't experienced for a long time. I spent a few minutes looking around at the other spectators, observing how they were interacting with the music. Some people were just standing like me, others were swaying with their eyes closed, one dude was intent on dancing (to what beat, only he knows) directly in our line of sight. Seeing others finding experience in this performance that wasn't ironic allowed me to relax and I decided to challenge myself, letting my guard down and see what happened.

What happened was extraordinary. I stopped listening directly to the sounds of the music, and instead paid attention to the feelings it was bringing up. I started to remember things and feelings from my early childhood which I didn't even realize I remembered. Letting the sounds swirl around me allowed me to become a part of the experience more than any conventional song could have done. It put me in a trance-like state where random thoughts just wind about in my brain, in an almost therapeutic way. 

One of the things I was reminded of was a couple years ago when Guy (my brother) and I went to San Francisco, and watched a drum circle in Golden Gate Park. We had had a whole plan to go explore the city that day but ten minutes in to our walk in the park, we sat down on Hippie Hill to observe the dummers, and it wasn't until five hours later that we left. Its this kind of rule-less interaction of sounds that entrances you. Something Constantina said was that this kind of spiritual fascination with sound is an ancient relic dating back to the first time man ever banged two rocks together. In this way music closes a gap between the past, present and future, connecting us as a species more than anything. 

Before I went to the show I had expressed that I wasn't sure if this kind of thing even qualified as music. Like I said, there are no rules, no score, no key, nor even a beat. But after feeling all of these things as a result of listening, I had to question what I even think music really is. Is it not simply confection of sounds that bring us out of our body and make us feel a certain way? Sure some versions of it have been deemed more palatable to a wide audience and are objectively more pleasant to listen to but at the end of the day, who am I to say what is or isn't music? I'm not sure if you're aware of this fact, but it turns out that art is actually subjective, and the determined quality of it is as well. 

If there's one message you should take away from this post, it's this: Don't knock it 'till you try it. And let yourself be open to finding meaning in something slightly ridiculous.