Once More With Feeling

[There are only so many music columns one man can write in a
week, so while Ezra Ace Caraeff is covering for a vacationing Cary
Clarke’s Our Town Could Be Your Life (pg. 33), Mr. Tonry will be
filling in here on Once More with Feeling.]

Finally I had my answer. I found it on a French website: A video of
a guy tearing pages out of a magazine.

I’d been agonizing over it, struggling to explain—both to you
and to myself—just where music begins and ends. The question,
more simply put: What is music? The answer seems blatantly obvious at
first, but technology has blurred the line significantly. Is a guy
twisting knobs on a laptop or mixer actually playing music, or
simply engaging in something musical? Clearly I’ve a penchant
for performers who play, those who have taken the time (or not) to
learn their instruments. The inclination to delineate the groups
no doubt has something to do with my own musicianship. But there’s
something else: When I hold an instrument I feel some tangible
connection. I cannot say as much for a laptop. There is no mystery,
soul, or allure.

Now—back to the guy ripping pages. He was with Arcade Fire,
playing live in an elevator. Un-unplugged. The page-rips were the beat.
Then it hit me. What makes music special and worthwhile is the human
element—the soul. It’s something that can be performed, perhaps
in some mangled, distorted, or even retarded fashion, without
electricity. Maybe even, in some cases, without instruments. 

On the same site (blogotheque.net) the more electro-centric
Animal Collective also perform in what looks like a subway. They’re
beating on the walls, singing, and scraping a stick down a shopping
cart. It isn’t necessarily good, but it is uniquely theirs. So
what happens to bands when their computer crashes or the mixer breaks?
Does the show go on? Can the song be played without the effects pedals?
What if there’s a blackout?

Which is not to say there isn’t a place for electro-centric music,
or musicality. I love dancing around to Aphex Twin and the
Avalanches. So why make the distinction? There are a lot of people
out there who don’t know the difference. Sometimes they don’t know
what’s really being performed on stage. Perhaps, if one can’t tell, it
doesn’t matter. But I disagree. Stripping the human element perverts
the soul of music, substantially lessening the emotional impact. It’s
all in the subtleties. So screw the backing track—get a bass
player. Let the tempos stretch. Improvise. Teach your friend to play.
Because the further this goes, the less kids are going to learn to
perform real music. And that scares the shit out of me.