I wasn’t a huge fan of Seth Godin’s “Brainwashed” article, but it did raise some decent points. I do agree with Godin that it is imperative to learn, fail, ship, “acknowledge the lizard”, make art, be generous, and connect with others. But I don’t necessarily believe that public education and math are blatantly crushing art and the creative process as we know it. For example, (and I’m not claiming to be any sort of a fan of math at all) have you heard of fractical geometry? It’s math, but it’s also art! It’s incredible. Additionally, I feel that public education can either stifle great art, or foster it. It really just depends on the individual...
Fractical Art.
Anywho, back to the article… I think that the two most important factors discussed in Godin’s article were MAKINGCONNECTIONS & FAILING. As a frequent blogger I can speak toward how incredible and helpful it is to make connections in places all over the world. I’ve had conversations with people in other countries about their media systems, via Tumblr. I’ve discussed music projects and other art with people all over the globe. Blogs are an incredible resource if used correctly. The second point that I felt was important was failure. From failure we learn what works and what does not. It puts us in our place and teaches us humility. It really can be a great way to become a better artist, if you learn to take it the right way.
As far as how useful these assignments are, in terms of fostering the creative process, I’d say that they help a little; some more than others. For example, I enjoyed the soundscape assignment. It invited me to explore different areas of sound that I hadn’t bothered to explore prior. I really focused on making the deep space in the photo present in my sound, and that was a challenge for me.
As a musician myself, I’ve always been wary of covers. I adore a great cover, but nothing is worse than a bad rendition of an already wonderful song. However, this cover of ‘Flume’ (originally recorded by Justin Vernon AKA Bon Iver) composed by Alex Humphrey takes an already raw, heart-wrenching track, and makes it even more powerful. I didn’t think that was at all possible. But, she utilizes different/even more stripped down instrumentation, a female voice with an obviously different timbre, but a similar approach in the recording process. In this blog, I’ll focus on contrast and affinity between these two versions of ‘Flume’.
The MELODY in both of these versions stays relatively the same. Humphrey very clearly used Justin Vernon’s melody as a guideline for her interpretation. However, her harmonies are a little different as well. I’d say as a whole though, she generally follows the melody and harmony laid down originally by Vernon, but takes some creative freedom every now and again with small vocal riffs.
(MUSICAL QUALITY) Where as Justin Vernon uses multiple layers of acoustic guitar, vocal tracks, bass drums, stomping, clicks (probably drumsticks or something of the sort), and etc; Alex Humphrey takes a simpler approach. She uses vibes, a few vocal tracks, and a keyboard track. Vernon’s version has a bit more of a rhythmic drive to it, with the bass/stomping and the clicks that pull that track forward. Humphrey’s is a bit more syncopated.
One stark contrast to be found between the two tracks, is that Humphrey’s version is so much more smooth and silky in timbre. She’s got a more trained, warm, woman’s voice. Where as, obviously, Justin has a man’s voice. It’s a little less tamed (not because it’s a man’s voice, but because it doesn’t have a refined quality to it), and thus it brings so much emotion to the table. I feel like Humphrey’s take on the track, smoothes out all of Justin’s rough spots and brings out all of his emotion in a more methodical, smooth, way.
Their method of recording also bound the two together. They both had a very simple recording setup that gave their tracks a raw, brooding, feel.
Overall, I enjoy both tracks, but my preference for one or the other sways solely depending on my mood that particular day. Alex Humphrey’s is a more refined version, smooth, and warm in timbre; Justin Vernon’s original version is much more raw and thus brings much more heartbreak to the table. It just depends on what you want to hear that evening. They’re both great versions of the song.
Quite a lot should be said for tolerating ambiguity. It can be incredibly frustrating to not have a clear path to the end of your project. However, finding your own way through the murk can lead you through a series of much more interesting ideas, and thus, to a much more interesting result. Because there is no clear way to finish a project on some occasions, you just have to try everything you can possibly think of until something sticks. This effort of trial and error may lead you down a path that you never would have taken had you not been able to tolerate the nebulousness of your direction in the first place.
I find this to be incredibly relevant when I’m working with my video production friends to come up with a score to their short films and most recently, their YouTube series. They’ll give me a link to a song that is kind of following the same principles of whatever sort of a piece they want, and then they’ll give me a general length, as well as about two emotions to be conveyed. They then wipe their hands clean of the situation and hope that I come up with something interesting in the next few days. This has lead to some of the most incredibly frustration… I can’t even begin to tell you. Especially when they almost never have the video portion ready, or let me know what’s going on in the scene (in enough detail). However, after much toiling, I always end up with something. Something a lot more than I anticipate initially when I go into these ambiguous projects. It tests my ability and makes me work and find my own direction.
2.)Look for happy accidents
Most of my best/most surprising work happens this way. I’ll be toiling furverously over a project for hours and then I’ll accidentally click the wrong track and modify it, instead of what I went into modify… I hit play, and initially I’ll be like, “Gah! Crap! Did not mean to do that…” But then I give it a second and I take a step back and I’m like, “BY JOVE, THIS IS GLORIOUS
3.)Suspend Logic
As a book nerd, I’ve often heard the phrase, “suspend your disbelief” from my English teachers. Otherwise you’re going to miss out on all of the wonderful parts of a text because you’ll be too caught up focusing on how unrealistic they really are. The same thing can apply to the creative process in general. And, I know as an audio/music production major, this is extremely relevant.
I find that this comes up in a few ways. The first that comes to mind is when I’m working with people who either don’t know a lot about music theory (and therefore don’t have a large musical-vocabulary to describe they things they need to convey) or even just people who prefer to talk about music in this particular way. But, instead of giving me some technical description of the sound they need in a piece, they’ll say… okay I need this guitar part to sound like the aurora borealis. …Now, someone who spends to much time being literal, or unable to suspend logic might say, “HOW IN THE HELL?!” But, if you let go of your rigid understanding of music theory and let yourself feel what’s going on musically in a piece, it might just make sense, and work! You have
The other way that this can come up, is when you’re working in a group and someone suggests something, and you’re like, “No way, brosef. That will never work” and you have to step out of your normal thought processes and try to understand where they are coming from.
Activity:
What can you do this week to suspend practicality, logic and rationality in service to birthing your big idea?
There are several ways to get outside of one’s rational headspace. However, different goals require different methods. For example, if you want a song to sound “beachy” and you can’t figure out how to get the feel you need, take a trip to the beach. It’ll help you realize that it’s not ridiculous to associate sounds or feelings with these beach-like visuals. This can also tie into the importance of immersion that Mitch Ditkoff discusses in his 14 Ways to Get Breaththrough Ideas.
I’ve always been the sort of person who gets inspired by an experience or a live happening. Which is why I walk around with a small notebook most of the time. If something strikes me, I want to be able write it down. This way when I get home I can write, play, record a track, whatever I need to do, and not lose track of my ideas or inspiration. Sometimes it’s a good book, (often it’s) something that someone says, a great painting, something I see, or more often than not… great live music.
My notebook.
Generally live music is the thing that inspires me the most, as both a performer and producer of music. Hearing an album on a record is one experience, but hearing/seeing songs unfold live is an incredibly different experience. Music is always given more life when it’s performed live. The artist knows they only have one shot at a great track, so they give it a lot more energy. They feed off the energy of the crowd.
The concert that made me decide that I HAD to be in the music industry in some form or other was an Incubus concert circa 2004:
I have the most vivid memory of going with my sister to see Incubus on their Crow Left Of The Murder tour, at the Tower City Amphitheater. I’ve never wanted to go home and write new music more than I did at that moment. I had been drumming for a few years at that point and I remembered coming home, going to sleep, waking up the next morning, downloading ALL of their albums and learning everything I could on my drum set. Then later, trying to re-record covers of their music on my computer and figure all of the technical stuff out. Just for practice.
I’ve always enjoyed how much contrast and affinity they’ve managed to have from record to record. They have enough contrast to make each record interesting & different, but enough affinity to allow the listener to instantly recognize that all too incredible, ‘Incubus-sound’. Not to mention, they’ve really mastered the art of tension and release in their music. Great examples of this in there music can be found throughout their musical cannon. But, two favorites are Warning from their 2001 record Morning View and Pantomime, a live b-side track.
Warning, an apocalyptic song that tells the story of a girl who wakes up in a cold sweat, absolutely panicked. She’s realized that she’s wasted her life doing what society dictated she needed to do to be happy, instead of doing what she needed to do to be truly happy. So, naturally, she wants to warn everyone else not to make the same mistake she’s made. The song starts off slow and dreamy as the character in the song wakes up; from here, the lyrics in the first verse heed the audience to do whatever it takes for them to live a wonderful and fulfilling life. (Even if what makes you happy isn’t what popular culture would dictate as being acceptable.) The music in the track follows the lyrics perfectly throughout the piece, building tension through the verse and igniting into the energy packed, panicked, warning of a chorus. The music in this track represents the narrative (text/subtext) of the song perfectly.
As for Pantomime, it’s kind of the same idea. Except the song was originally released with their Alive At Red Rocks DVD in 2004. This track is one of the most incredible songs I’ve ever heard; both lyrically and musically. The live representation of it is even more spectacular and full of life than the studio recording. It has a completely different feel and is a great example of how much energy is pumped into a live song.
It starts off simple, with some ambient sound to create a spacey aural space, and some simple back-and-forth styled power chords.
The song’s narrative is about a frustrated man who can’t seem to string his words together in a manner that would effectively convey his emotions or ideas without the risk being completely misunderstood by the receptor. So, he dreams about transporting himself to a simpler space in time that would allow for him to speak through his actions alone.
In my fantasy, I’m a pantomime.
I’ll just move my hands and everyone sees what I mean.
Words are too messy
and it’s way past time
to hand in my mouth
paint my face white and try to
reinvent the sea,
one wave at a time.
Speak without my voice and see the world by candlelight.
The song starts off as a few simple elements, but then, big-bang style, explodes into a million intricate pieces after the second chorus. The character sheds his fear of being misunderstood and making mistakes, embracing the fact that sometimes instead of trying to say anything at all, it’s better to just be quiet and let silence speak for you. Which acts as a crazy juxtaposition (contrast) to the amount of aural space being created in this musically explosive portion of the song, but there is affinity to the earlier portion of the song that is much simpler musically and heavy lyrically. (It flip-flops.)
It isn’t until the instrumentals explode three quarters of the way into the piece, that the vocals simplify and the music multiplies, leaving the audience with their jaws down and their minds-blown. The last quarter of the song thus acts as his conclusion, demonstrating that sometimes it’s more effective to let the sound (or lack thereof, in the character’s case) do the talking.
So in summation, Incubus has been one of the most creatively inspiring things in my life, since I’ve gotten into music. They’re constantly pushing me to be better at producing and writing for myself and others.
