Twos and Threes

As I launched the evening's foray into the classifications of electronica, one crystal-clear fact emerged: WAY to many sub-genres exist. The next paragraph lists each one as presented by Wikipedia. Please have something better to do with your time than reading through this drivel.

Ambient, Ambient house, Ambient techno, Apres Rave,Dark ambient, Drone music, Psybient, Breakbeat, Baltimore Club, Big beat, Broken beat, Florida breaks, Nu skool breaks, Progressive breaks, Rap, Disco, Cosmic disco, Eurodance, Euro disco, Hi-NRG, Italo dance, Italo disco, Nu, disco, Spacesynth, Downtempo, Acid jazz, Balearic Beat, Chill out, Dub music, Ethnic electronica, Glitch, Illbient, Minimal Electronica, New Age music, Nu jazz, Trip hop, Electronic music, Berlin School, Electroacoustic, Electro, Electro backbeat, Electro-hop, Electro-grime, Freestyle music, Techno bass, Electronica, Electropop, Folktronica, Glitch, IDM, Nu Jazz, Post-disco, Trip hop, (UK) Garage (UKG), 2-step, 4x4, Bassline, Breakstep, Dubstep, Funky, Grime, Speed garage,, Hardcore/Hard dance, Bouncy techno, Breakbeat Hardcore, Breakcore, Darkcore, Digital hardcore, Doomcore, Freeform, Gabber, Happy hardcore, Hardstyle, Jumpstyle, Makina, Noisecore, Speedcore, Terrorcore, UK Hardcore, House, Acid house, Boogie, Bubblegum dance, Chicago house, Crack house, Dark house, Deep house, Disco house, Dream house, Electro house,Euro house, Fidget house, French house, Freestyle house, US garage, Ghetto house, UK Hard house, Hard NRG, Hi-NRG, Hip house, Italo house, Jackin' house, Kwaito, Latin house, Merenhouse, Minimal house/Microhouse, Progressive house, Scouse house, Swing house, Electronica, Tribal house, Tech house, Hi-NRG, Eurobeat, Eurodance, Hard NRG, Italo Disco, Nu-NRG, New Beat, Techno, Industrial, Aggrotech, Ambient industrial, Cybergrind, Dark ambient, Dark electro, Death industrial, Electronic body music, Electro-Industrial, Industrial rock, Industrial metal, Coldwave, Noise, Japanoise, Power noise, Jungle/Drum and bass, Clownstep, Darkcore, Darkstep, Drumfunk, Hardstep, Intelligent drum and bass, Jump-Up, Liquid funk, Neurofunk, Oldschool jungle, Ragga-jungle, Darkside jungle, Raggacore, Sambass, Techstep, Trancestep, Rock/Punk influenced electronic music (Dance-rock), Alternative dance, Coldwave, Cyber metal, Dance-punk, Dark Wave, Digital hardcore, Electroclash, Electro rock, Electropunk, Ethereal Wave, Industrial rock, Industrial metal, New Rave, New Wave, Synthpop, Post-disco, Progressive rock, Synthpunk, Techno, Acid techno, Detroit techno, Free tekno, Ghettotech, Minimal, New beat, Nortec, Schranz / Hardtechno, Tech house, Tech trance, Techno-DNB, Techstep, Yorkshire Techno, Trance, Acid trance, Ambient trance, Classic trance, Dream trance, Euro-trance, Hard trance, Hardstyle, Nu-NRG, Progressive trance, Psychedelic trance/Goa trance, Dark psy, Full on, Nitzhonot, Psyprog, Psybient, Psybreaks, South African psytrance, Suomisaundi, Tech trance, Uplifting trance, Vocal trance, Post-disco, Dance-pop, Boogie, Nu rave, Hardcore breaks, Rave breaks, Jungle techno, Chiptune, 8-bit, Bitpop, Demoscene music, Picopop, Scoobycore, Game Boy music, and Gamewave.

Several of these sub-genres have strikingly similar definitions, with little or no nuance standing them apart. Coming clear is the conclusion that too many artists think (or thought) too highly of their musical compositions, and ridiculous classifications emerged where pieces of music could have tidily nestled into existing categories.

Master percussionist Kinah Boto, who taught me drum set during my masters program at Georgia State University, floored me with a comment he once made. "Music is all about twos and threes, nothing more nothing less."

He is mostly right: I venture a guess that 99% of all music heard in this country has rhythms that can be subdivided into two beats or three beats. Boto's point is that the labels we slap on various musics are mostly worthless. Every piece of music is a purposeful set of sounds, and the sonic characteristics of a composition are unaffected by any terminology pinned to them.

As this week commenced, I was determined to define the major genres of electronica, delving into the idioms and finding my place in them. This has become an overwhelming and pointless proposition; one that has undoubtedly bored most of my readers. You have my apologies along with my word that I shall return to the more gripping autobiographical tales that brought you here in the first place.

This quasi-academic exploration germinated moments after I put the finishing touches on a piece of electronic music for the Redline Project. Pretty well pleased with the result, I wondered how the sounds would stack up against other music in the same genre. It was only natural then to wonder which genre would comfortably hold this music.

My best guess was, and still is, Trance music. Wikipedia claims Trance pieces have the following characteristics: a tempo between 130 and 155 beats per minute, short synthesizer phrases, and a form with dynamics that build and deconstruct throught the piece. Check, check, check.

Settled then; this composition entitled Tremont is a textbook example of Trance music. I am positive that electronica aficionados everywhere would have a bird over this classification. Ahh, the beauty of solo writing an uncontested blog.

Bit of a Trance

I have no idea if the music I am sculpting tonight qualifies as actual Trance music, but its mesmerizing groove has all but hypnotized me. I intended to compose this cocktail for an hour and chase it with an hour of blogging. Both time slots are long gone and a few extra slid by with them. Woopsie daisy.

The bell tolls midnight, and my fluffy bed is looking mighty fine at this moment. Tomorrow I shall post definitions for the many sub-genres of electronica here, or at least as many as I can scrounge up. I look forward to seeing if my composition in progress actually qualifies as Trance music, or if it simply has that effect on my mind.

Intonarumori

Everyone knows they can trust the internet as a source of information, right? I am working a full time job, developing a non-profit, chiseling away at a 365 day music project, and adopting a son. There is no time for actual research, so good-old Google and Wikipedia will have to do. Trust at your own risk.

I am knee-deep in the muck of electronica this week as I piece together an exotic trance composition that may just squeeze its way onto the final recording of the Redline Project. As I massage the textures into coherence, working and reworking over and again, a fascination with this new array of sonic possibilities is taking hold of me. I am also gripped by utter lack of knowledge about this genre.

The goal of this post and others to follow is to snag snippets of mostly-true information from potentially unreliable sources and garner a shred of knowledge. The topic of my exploration: electronic music.

When I studied the western tradition of music history, page one of chapter one transported me to the era of Gregorian Chant, about 800 years ago. Compared to the likes of dinosaurs and wooly mammoths, the history of music (as Europeans and Americans know it) is all relatively new. Reason declares electronic music a mere baby then, since the advent of harnessing watts did not come along until 1752 when Ben Franklin flew his kite into the sky on a less-than-clear day.

A cross-breed of mad scientist and musician began to emerge in Italy during the early part of the 20th century. This experimental group of artists called themselves Futurists. One such loon named Luigi Russolo assembled devices he referred to as Intonarumori, or noise machines. In his own words, these aural contraptions were "acoustical noise-instruments, whose sounds (howls, roars, shuffles, gurgles, etc.) were hand-activated and projected by horns and megaphones."

Stop right there. We have a gathering of fellows in Italy around 100 years ago who focused their life work on producing concerts of noise. My best guess is that their elevators failed to visit the top floor. Hail the Futurists - these are my kind of folks.

The first instruments with sound produced purely from electricity were invented during the 1920s and 1930s. Devices such as the Etherophone (also known as the Theremin) debuted on stage of symphonies in novelty pieces composed for orchestra and electronic instruments. 1929 saw the founding of Laurens Hammond's electronic instrument company, which would later go on to produce the iconic Hammond B3 organ.

Though these rumblings of electronic sound were a far cry from the thumping synth-driven club music made popular in the 1980s, this collection of early forays begged deeper explorations of sonic possibilities that would carpet the continents with new music in under 50 years. Electronica is brand new but has spread like wildfire.

This highly-paraphrased synopsis was produced using the single source of Wikipedia. My middle school teachers, and probably my mother, would be horrified. Tune in this time tomorrow for a loosely factual pontification about the invention of synthesized sound.

Intuitions and Ignorance

After an unbelievably drawn-out meeting that monopolized most of yesterday, I decided to unwind by throwing together a little groove. In less than ten minutes, I had some intriguing bits of electronica tracked into in Logic. I tossed some synth pads in the pot along with a dash of electric guitar long-tones.

To my ears, this ditty is a simple but addictive recipe that keeps me wanting another bite. The issue is that I have no actual awareness of what to call this music, or what elements it needs to take it to the next level.

In the realm of electronica, there are labels like Techno, Trance, House, Hip-Hop, and Club, each of which is defined any number of ways by a plethora of unofficial websites. Complicating the conundrum is the endless love-child spin-offs that result from the blurred lines between the vague genres. We have Trance-hop, Trip-hop, Techno House, and so on.

My training in classical and jazz music has not exactly encouraged a working knowledge of electronic music. Though I am lost in terminology and clueless of how to construct convincing tracks, I am excited that the Redline Project, and its resulting collection of hardware and software, has cracked open the door to a new universe of music.

Electronica is a realm to which I once turned up my nose. In downright snobbiness, I considered sonics produced with computers and synths to be a cheap knock-off of actual musicianship. As I commence exploration of this infinite array of possibilities, I quickly realize my opinions were formed in ignorance.

This week, I am going learn as much as I can about the evolution and nomenclature of electronic music, posting my findings on this blog. If any readers want to offer information (favorite electronic music artists, historical resources, genre classifications), please send it over.

Grounded

The past couple of days have given me a sense of growing hope that the Redline Project is starting to find a coherent direction for its recorded product. I am a person who emotes deeply and wrestles regularly with life's answerless questions, often to no avail. It is fitting that the music on the final recording will reflect these personality facets, and I am excited that they are starting to reveal themselves even in these early scratch recordings.

The feedback I have received regarding 'Slips Away' and 'Sing Silently' has been overwhelmingly positive. If you did take the time to write, please accept my sincere thanks. This project, music listeners, is for you. The final recording must speak to its audience, or it will cease to have one.

As encouraging as the past week's worth of songwriting, recording, and blogging all have been, I must confess that it all has me feeling a little heavy, and I am imagining that my readers are feeling the same. So permit me today to lighten it up a bit with a quick anecdote from the trenches of Studio Redline and a scratch recording of some electronica experimentation.

Early last month, I waxed melancholic about the endless frustrations of online message boards. Though the loathing generally continues, I am pleased to inform that I found an actual solution to one of the persisting problems plaguing my recording setup.

Here's how it all went down:

Each time I plug up my acoustic-electric Guild F4-CE or the Guild Starfire electric guitar on loan from a friend, I experience a horrid melange of buzzes, pops, static, and clown nose honks. After delving through stacks of digital drivel, I happen on a post with an intriguing do-it-yourself fix. The poster's idea smacked of the home repairs I have accomplished with duct tape in one hand and a caulk gun in the other. Perfect; worth a shot.

Simply strip a bit of plastic off the top and bottom of a long wire. Wrap one end around the exposed metal where the guitar cord meets the mixer and run the other down to the chassis of the computer. Buzzing problem solved.

Initially false. The cacophony continues. But I make an important observation: when I unwind the wire from the base of my desktop tower, the buzzing disappears. Why? Because I am touching the exposed copper threads. Apparently I am a grounded individual.

Fingers on wire equals no crazy hum or nightmare buzz. But I need both hands to play either guitar. I twirl my scraggly soul patch as I ponder my options.

Eureka! One simple maneuver later, I am adding acoustic and electric guitar tracks to the evening's musical experiment. Thank you, random message board poster. You have made my night.

So as you listen to today's scratch recording, you can thank my left gluteal muscle for the noise-free guitar lines. Yes, that's correct: I stuck that wire right down my pants and sat on it.

Mission accomplished.