The Times They Are a-Changin’ - Not Really

I’m keeping this blog a PG affair, but this is a blue topic. Fair warning, that was.

I keep finding that my perceptions of history are flawed. Things that seem to have sprung up overnight rarely do and humankind hasn’t evolved nearly as fast or as far as we think it has. For example, as a kid (back when the world revolved me), I assumed that suggestive lyrics began only when they first suggested something to me.

Perhaps some of my confusion came from my awareness that the birth of rock ‘n’ roll was not welcomed by parents or church leaders. Of course, I thought they were really reaching to read something bad into the popular songs of that day. Plus, I had yet to hear anything more suggestive than, “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” when that impression of empty concern was formed. So, I sort of got the notion that songs before 1955 couldn’t possibly have anything objectionable about them. I’ve since been schooled.

I think credit goes to the PBS show, “History Detectives.” Maybe if your a blues student, you already know this, but there’s a whole collection of old blues songs that are bona fide naughty. Is that funny? Is that disturbing? I don’t know. I guess in a sad way, I find it comforting that the media world—the internet, television . . . movies with sound—isn’t the singular spoiler it’s sometimes been made out to be; that is, human beings were already a mischievous sort.

If you’re curious, check out the song titles and audio samples of the CD “Raunchy Business: Hot Nuts & Lollypops” on Amazon.com. Here’s a sample of lyrics recorded in 1935 by Lil’ Johnson:

“Look what you can get cheap! Only five cents, boys! Nice and brown, too! Everyone’s crazy ’bout my nuts!”

The song’s called “Get ‘Em From the Peanut Man (Hot Nuts),” and I still can’t believe my eyes/ears. Think of it: there’s a Parental Advisory—Explicit Lyrics sticker on pre-WWII material.

Say, is that his real name?

How Open Are You?

I’m not sure how we get hooked on our favorite types of music. I learned early on that my musical tastes were not at all inherited. Of course, I like to think that I am so open-minded that music in all it’s forms should appeal to me. Well, that’s silly.

I think musical tastes is sometimes broadened by passive listening. Movies have all types of music in them. Sometimes a little unintentional exposure hooks you into something new. At the same time, I suppose, movies are also powerful purveyors of stereotypes. And, just like with everything else, it’s easy for us to treat areas we have little knowledge of or interest in with stereotypes. For example, those who turn their nose up at American Country music probably think of it terms of twang, cowboy hats, and the clichès about losing your woman, your truck, and your dog, and then recall the least persuasive appealing memory of those icons.

I always rolled my eyes at the college course titles about appreciation of the arts, but it makes more and more sense to me. If you don’t appreciate some form of art that other people adore, you may not know enough about it. I confess I’m taken in by those Time-Life (and similar) nostalgia music collection infomercials. It’s a great way to see what—well, at least Time-Life says are the essential songs of a particular kind of music at a particular time in history.

Well, anyway, is there a particular kind of music you once thought you detested or at least didn’t care for that you had an epiphany about? In other words, how’s your musical tastes changed since you were a kid?

Wendy Carlos, Part II

I just wanted to expand on my description of Wendy Carlos. Though she might have escaped notice by people not into synthesizers or thorough students of classical music, a much larger group of people have heard of Tron, A Clockwork Orange, and The Shining. Wendy Carlos scored these films. Of course, Tron, in particular was really well-suited to the more electronic and futuristic sounds available on a synthesizer.

Something else that the Switched-On Bach 2000’s liner notes introduced me to was the idea of non-traditional tunings. I still only have a vague idea of what that’s about, but here’s my nutshell description. If you play a digital piano, you have 88 notes to choose from, always and forever. Scales have 8 notes. You’ve got flats and sharps. From Middle C, there’s 7 white keys and 5 black keys to the next C. It’s all well-defined and there’s sheet music to read. But, suppose that between Middle C and C above Middle C, we put more than 12 notes, say 24 or 36. Yeah, you’d have to play with the guitar tuning peg or electronic keyboard pitch bender to get to those in-between notes. And then you’d have all these notes that were slightly off the written note. Why? Well, apparently some of those combinations of notes that are a little off what were used to sound good.

Here’s the mind-bending investigation that Wendy Carlos has done: What if you have a way-out number that doesn’t even get you to the next octave, such as 15.385 or 34.188 notes per octave. Of course, that means you have all these notes and you can’t play a silly octave. I know it sounds bizarre and without an instrument to manage it on or a notation system to communicate it with it, one wonders what’s the point, but it does make you think. Oww!

How ‘Bout That Cloverfield Score?

I just saw Cloverfield, but since this is a music blog, I don’t feel obligated to give you a full review. Still, I’m reminded of something that’s sometimes said at the Oscars. A movie star will introduce a category of award, such as editing or sound or music, by showing the audience a piece of film with and without that portion of the movie work in place. Well, I might like to see Cloverfield with the music in place to see if I like that better. Actually, I did like the movie, but it’s done as if it all came off a single camcorder tape. You’ve got to hand it to the moviemakers for figuring out how to insert the camera operator in the most opportune places to catch great views of all the action that moves the story along.

At the same time, you’re constantly aware of the lens which frames the entire movie and it makes it a bit tedious. And, even though most horror movies end without full resolution, the nature of this one makes it a little more unsatisfying at the sudden ending—or in the words of a loud patron in my particular showing—”What the f—” never mind.

The funny thing is that there actually is music at the end of the movie. That just frustrates me more. Like someone had the wherewithall to tell us in full detail who all made the movie—and why not set that to music—but they put that at the end of footage not worth tinkering with.

I appreciate the art of showing the unretouched details of a found object, but like with The Blair Witch Project, it’s not enough. In the case of Cloverfield, I would have loved it if, at minimum they’d followed the raw “camcorder” footage with regular movie footage of the people viewing the tape, even if it’s from a spaceship and they say, “So, that’s what happened to Earth.” Okay, so that’s a little bit lame, but you get the idea.

At least Cloverfield leaves no doubt as to what was happening to Manhattan. The Blair Witch Project ends with about 3 seconds of a confusing image that hardly concludes the story. I would love to see someone “redo” that movie and sort of couch the original footage in a documentary with a host and voice-overs and all that until the last 20 or 30 minutes of the movie, when in the present day, something new is discovered in the house or woods near it that makes the scare fresh.

Out of this World

One of my favorite movies is “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” (The title’s really dumb, though. I remember asking people if I’d missed part one and two.) Anyway…it’s an example of how music is truly a universal language. I’ll never forget my admiration for the keyboardist at the Devil’s Tower welcome site (I’ve been there twice now) playing those familiar five notes (if you don’t remember, try G A F F(octave below) C). That’s when all the little UFOs were flying around. Then there’s the awesome entrance of the huge mothership. Just amazing. And she takes control of the music and it’s a fantastic duet between the human’s synthesizer and the mothership. In reality, I think it featured a tuba and an oboe.

As I’ve watched it several times over the years, though, one of my favorite parts doesn’t even involve the UFOs or aliens. It’s when the French scientist and his translator are trying to convince the military officer not to send away Richard Dreyfuss and the other witnesses who had previous encounters that left them with a strange longing to come to Devil’s Tower in Wyoming. Of course, since Dreyfuss and his friends are not part of the government response team, they have no business there or even the right to know what’s happening. As a final plea, the scientist, through his interpreter, yells to the departing officer, “But these people were invited here!”

I think music is like that. It’s what makes copyright such a ticklish issue. I’m for intellectual property rights mind you, but I think the music existed long before any one of us did. If you can capture it and express it really well, God bless you. Do yourself a favor. Go play one of your favorite pieces on your instrument.

Peace from Sinclair Sound. We sell musical instruments.