Saturation point. Musical perception …
I really don’t know how objective my subjective pessimism is, but the ghost of a certain decline has stubbornly seemed to me for the past few years. Atrophy of musical perception? Decadence? Satiety? Perhaps the last. I recall one of Murphy’s laws: “The sum of the mind on the planet is a constant value, but the population is growing.” Paradoxical as it may seem, but perhaps from the general “Internetization” of the musical space, coupled with the increasing degree of accessibility of musical creation to the average layman, we no less lost than we won.
It’s bad when the Artist has no canvas and paints, they will tell me. Even worse, when every mediocrity has brushes and an easel, I object. As one of the laws of biology states, each population, which is an organic part of the global ecosystem, has the ability to self-regulation, the acquisition of which has become vital to the product of evolution. An artificial change in its number, either one way or the other, causes negative consequences both in the population itself and an imbalance in the overall system.
Modern music, including electronic, and no less so-called experimental – personally reminds me more and more of an artificially inflated population, each year experiencing an increasingly serious problem of maintaining itself in a viable state. Any economist will say that the problem of growth is, first and foremost, the problem of the availability of resources for it. And where to find that Demiurge to get all the musical ideas when, at every entrance, today he sits on Xenakis?
Duplication. Imitation. Grayness.
Music as a consumer product. Spiritual development as one of the indices of the consumer market.
Am I exaggerating? Maybe. But I don’t think that I am very mistaken. I listen to my playlist and sometimes hardly notice that one album has been replaced by another. And after all, I’m not talking about the outright recent network garbage that has been breeding, from which we are trying to protect our irreplaceable winamp. I’m talking about names that are somehow pretty and worthy. And yet, more often than not, a musical something habitually flows through the auditory canals, without causing either rejection or special delight, sometimes something makes the perception shake, but rarely it is the spirit of something new and incredible, most often it is something familiar although emotionally vibrant. It turns out that we are doomed only to return what we already know, provoking ourselves to experience the same impressions again and again?
Well, yes, assuming that there are only seven notes. Or maybe the fact is that some exploit them too shamelessly?
Erosion of musical soils.
The availability of modern IT-tools for creating music, allowing each cook to create their own “Magic Flute” at home, has allowed the formation of queues of Heroes of modern times. Here they are, numerous Debussy and Schoenbergs, rushing to the musical Olympus with musical scores under their arms. And here is Olympus with new musical Gods: Rapidshare, iFolder or SoulSeek, who promise all mortals their infinite musical wealth. And everyone is replicating everyone. Amen.
Duplication killed the spirit of expectation, the spirit of impatience. The excitement of the search has disappeared, the happiness of possession is already unknown to many. And who remembers how great it was, by hook or by crook, to search for something new, change and rewrite music from each other? How many simple but powerful emotions did it bring?
Looking at the hordes of IDM adepts who have filled up their network labels with their opuses and listening to certain “creations”, you can’t get rid of the unpleasant feeling of a dry throat. Give the air! Let the broom sweep this trash out! But worst of all is not this. Worse is another. The theory of systems involves the influence of all the components in it included in the rest and on the system as a whole. And in the end, our perception is imperceptibly undermining, becoming more and more infected with a strain of conformism. And what? Well, let it be, it does not interfere! A real flower will sprout among the weed. It doesn’t interfere … Why only yesterday’s idols come back today without a gleam in their eyes, no longer believing in themselves? Apparently their immunity is also not unlimited.
As a result, we timidly ask each other about the latest Ae or Portishead. Timidly, because we are afraid to admit that we didn’t get close from them the emotions that we once received. We pretend to grab Burial with simulated enthusiasm to fill the spiritual void, which is increasingly annihilating the musical space. And only a few like Murcof or Hans Appelqvist are still able to sincerely hurt the living.
Probably just melancholy. Melancholy of shadows bouncing on the evening wall. Nevertheless, the feeling that the bowl is full does not leave. And the problem is not what was poured into it. More importantly, nothing can be poured into it. It’s time to throw out the bowl.