MIDI, 30 years on - friend or foe?

In the early 80s I was at the forefront of the then mind-bending new music technologies. I had been involved a few years earlier in the build-up to the international agreement for a worldwide standard for interconnectivity between electronic musical instruments (primarily keyboards) - MIDI. The Musical Instrument Digital Interface.

Initially the language was aimed very much at keyboards being able to remotely ‘play’ other keyboards in tandem, thereby expanding the sonic combinations exponentially. Up until that time, telephone exchange-style patch-bays and routing boxes producing mountains of cable-spaghetti with converters and adaptors producing both triggers pulses that sent start and stop commands plus Control Voltages that transmitted pitch information. The language of MIDI was, nonetheless, much more of an arrangement tool, than a compositional aid.

The classic 70s image of keyboardists such as Vangelis and Rik Wakeman literally surrounded by a circle of synthesizers, organs, electric pianos et al, spreading their octopus arms in all directions, disappeared in a handful of years as MIDI cables allowed several instruments to be played at the same time in perfect unison.

It was all new and fascinating. Once all that mad control voltage and trigger-input data had been reduced to a one-size-fits-all technology, it became seductively beckoning to devise another ‘standard’ that could harness that data and invent a system that recorded it. Then it could be played back.

In that brief moment, an ideology, not a million miles away from the early exploratory days of home computing, was realised and developed into a ‘modern-day’ version of a sequencer. A recording device to capture endless information attached to chords, rhythms, melodies and sounds that together would create a new kind of control over sound and music.

As with any great new invention - a quantum jolt forward comes at a price. As a byproduct of that new and fascinating precision, the happy accidental moments, which as before, required ‘instinctive response’ (and often immediate ideas to circumnavigate potential disaster for example) became constrained to the point of suffocation.

With each new step towards the ultimate total harnessing and control of musical expression, came less and less opportunity for error and improvisation. That improvisation is what keeps the music alive and reflecting ‘feeling’.

Music composed and arranged on a computer that utilises both rhythmic quantisation and auto-tuned instrumentation is tantamount to reading music as opposed to hearing it. For those of us who can, when we read a score in our mind, without an instrument to hand, we may hum along but it is our imagination that is doing the hearing and the conducting. It is much like visualising the story whilst reading a book. With computer-controlled recording, we are getting the precise placement notes and interval/harmonic relationships but with no conducting, no overall homogeneity, no feeling.

Let’s not forget that the only commonality between almost all great quotes on music over several centuries lies in that word - ‘feeling.’ That’s what music does…. creates feelings for others to encounter. The artist conjures up feelings for their audience to experience. That’s it.

Fishing or Flexing?

As I alluded to in my last post, the most common process at the onset of any writing session in this day and age is one of what I call ‘fishing’. Throwing up loops in today's software-driven recording device that gives a rhythmical bed to sit on whilst tootling with a MIDI keyboard plugged into an endless variety of sounds until a little something sounds juicy or appealing enough to constitute a first layer.

Followed by more noodling... a kind of improvising with oneself. Whilst that can have its uses, one must first acknowledge that it isn’t really improvising with anyone. How can it be?...the first layer is now fixed and therefore irresponsive, in any way, to further input or playing.

If we think about that; that’s like starting the construction of a building with a quick sketch, liking it enough to keep, sculpting a further level based on that momentary thinking… and setting off to build the rest of the skyscraper from those unplanned beginnings. Let’s see if it falls over.

The great thing about a bunch of players in the same room, improvising from scratch (or a sketch), is that as each musician plays in concert with their fellow performers there is a constant process of change, exchange and adaptation.

That process is, in each and every minute, reacting with a unique individual response, born out of each particular player’s feeling or experience of that very moment. That’s an amazing amount of input data, reacting constantly to change. Something a software program is unable to do. And almost all music is written and composed on software systems, in this millennium.

The writing process needs to remain alive as long as possible. By staying super-flexible, it breathes, bouncing with readiness... like a world-class boxer, prepared for any assault from any direction. Able to change plans in an instant as he further understand the ‘state’ of his opponent.

The great thing about the unexpected in music is that it pulls on all aspects of the fellow player’s techniques and thinking, which in turn, pushes them outside their comfort-zone and into moments that they hear - as if they were not the ones to play it.

Be THAT good....

Steve Martin has a memorable quote that has stuck with me like glue since reading his book 'Born Standing Up', mostly because it echoes so completely my own ideology...

"Be so good they can't ignore you!”

Quality control and the music business have never been routine bedfellows. Often for good reason, as some of the most outstanding tracks of the last 50 years of contemporary pop music originated out of little more than errors, stumbles, naivety and ignorance.

Of course, for every one of those accidental, yet undeniable, moments there are a thousand others that lay in the trash-cans of half-hearted, misguided or just plain 'empty' attempts. But enough gems that should, in theory, never have been allowed out of a 'professional' recording studio on the basis of their writing, arranging, performing or recording, have found an audience.

The premise of being that good is a million miles away from the typical mindset behind the beginnings of any new song written by the vast majority of would-be songwriters (in fact, most 'professionals' too).

Why?… because, with the downfall of the major record labels, the particular baby that went out with that bath-water was the A & R man.

The Artist and Repertoire figure was originally, exactly that…. someone who signed the Artist based on not just discovery, but far more importantly, long-term fostering and guidance... at the same time as selecting, discovering and/or commissioning their upcoming Repertoire… songs.

The primary duty of the A & R man was to help the artist find great songs to sing... and then as singer-songwriters and self-writing bands developed their own composing & lyrical skills, the A & R man would offer the artist/writer an objective opinion, critique... along with suggestions for further and different collaborations (often in cahoots with the writer’s publishers).

Primarily though, they became the all important first-stage filter for the artist’s ideas. If the idea was not good enough, the worthwhile A & R man would have alternative suggestions at the ready, and the people-skills to implement them.

As the hey-day of creative music ‘editorial’ shows - Warner Bros in Los Angeles in the 70s housed an incredibly impressive array of A & R men who, un-typically, were also top Record Producers of their day...people like Lenny Waronker, Russ Titleman and Ted Templeman. Between them they signed and/or coached (A & R’ed) the likes of Randy Newman, Joni Mitchell, Jackson Browne, The Doobie Bros, Van Morrison, America, Little Feat, Van Halen, Little Feat, James Taylor, Bonnie Raitt, Alice Cooper and Rickie Lee Jones

But now here we are in the 3^rd Millennium… new young artists with no guidance at all. Their young healthy egos with no critique, no wall to bounce their ideas off. No negative, albeit constructive, assaults to defend their new works against. As I have mentioned often in my Workshops, it is well-known and understood widely that if you are a budding author, you must first find a book-publisher who, whilst being already sympathetic to your general writing direction, will highlight weak points, character flaws, plot holes and confused structure in an effort to strengthen the book as a whole and aid the author’s ability to express both their primary points and their sub-text. In the book world it is not only common, but generally considered essential - from both the author and the publisher’s perspective.

It would appear that at this time, the 4 minute song does not demand such evaluation, such study and critique. Apparently it either works for the listener or it doesn’t… there is, after all, so much choice out there on the fabulous InterWeb! Why bother fashioning one sole gem? Polishing every facet of one single jewel? It’s only a pop song!

But then listen to Paul Simon’s “The Only Living Boy in New York” - Brian Wilson’s “God Only Knows” (I mean really close your eyes and listen... 100%) or Imogen Heap’s “Hide and Seek”.

These jewels contain every aspect of brilliance in pop music. Firstly a great song made up of clear powerful ideas expressed in finely tuned lyrics and beautiful melodies; orchestrated with thoughtful arrangements both original and expressive in both the biggest picture and the minutest detail; produced by a mind with an equally clear vision that recognised when it was enough, not too much and beautifully balanced in every sense.

I am about to start a new ‘entity’ that will collect the best examples of the first of these ingredients. That is the song that is shooting for this level of excellence; from writers who may be unknown to those with experience but no wish to be lost in Major label-land (what’s left of it) anymore, or those that do not want to remain equally lost in Internet Wasteland. The mechanism will be announced shortly here.

20 reasons a song can succeed

1 - An undeniably memorable chorus melody

2 - An undeniably addictive repetitive riff

3 - An undeniably memorable chorus text-hook

4 - A universally appealing subject, individually expressed

5 - An occasional sonic logo that leaves you wanting to hear it again.

6 - An overall arrangement/production that leaves you wanting it again

7 - An overall style that puts it firmly in the style-of-the-moment

8 - A rhythmical groove that is undeniably infectious

9 - A repetitive/hypnotic chant-like vocal phrase

10 - A complexity to the arrangement / production that needs many plays to digest

11 - A story to the text that keeps you glued through to a satisfying conclusion

12 - A unique extraordinary vocal / collective performance

13 - A singer’s charismatic vocal character / timbre

14 - Inexplicable mystique / magic to the overall arr / prod

15 - Uplifting quality that just makes you flat-out happy

16 - Sympathetic emotion that harmonises with your state of mind

17 - Pace and excitement that infuses the listener with energy

18 - The totality relaxes and soothes the troubled mind

19 - Surprising / unexpected twists and turns that tease or please

20 - Reassuring familiarity that comforts

Auditorius and Jewels needed

Much has happened since the first intro post with it's backwards glance at my almost decade-old 'manifesto'.

It still rings true and is as much at the foundation of both my artistic and production ideology.

Add to that now, a new Publishing arm, Auditorius, that will try to support as much as possible another '4 minutes later' by-line... "If you have nothing to say, shut up".

I grew up with that mantra in the household. If we applied that sensibility to the world of music, we'd be left with barely 1% of the music that is out there and discoverable.

I know writers who are so depressed with the amount of sonic interference that's smothering them every time they go online, that they can barely see the point in trying to speak to a sea of chattering mouths.

Not true. You do, however, as this manifesto says, make sure you release to the world, only the jewels. Sending your 'good stuff' into the world is no longer good enough. Sending your 'great stuff' may be do-able, but it is your absolute 'jewels' we are interested in!

We live in a culture of celebrity that mimics those that are already successful, instantly. Therefore by the time you work your way down to the unbridled Internet, it's full of people mimicking people who are also mimicking people who are... etc etc.

Each musical era has a phenomenon - an iconic character whose attitude represents a wide 'movement' of people who find a contemporary voice to speak for them.

It is Gaga at this time, nobody comes close to her unmatched popularity. The second place artists are so far behind her, it's embarassing.

In other eras it was Tina Turner and Alanis Morrissette. Success that transcends the quality of the music itself - it becomes as much about what the artist represents to their audience, the music comes along for the ride after a while. Certain specific examples of their output become stand-alone phenomenons with a life of their own. Tina's "Private Dancer" for which I had the pleasure of both writing and producing tracks, was just such an album and a time.

These early posts may have to reflect whatever is uppermost in my 'musings' at the time and not have the thematic reference that I trust will come in time. Forgive therefore the scattered, and the meanders. Pause for food.

4 minutes later...

This first post should define the title of the blog... "4 minutes later..."

The complete quote is an instruction from my workshops...

"4 minutes later... do not leave your audience as you found them"

Here is my 'manifesto' from a few years ago that triggered the Workshop - that then triggered the book I am currently writing and, in turn, this Blog... that you are now reading.

At this crucial time in popular music’s evolution and it’s delivery / distribution, there seems to be more questions than there are answers.

As is often the case, it is a matter of getting the questions right.

Floating free from the major label’s constrictions, we face total creative freedom but the choices and decisions are many.

We cannot begin to make sense of that hierarchy before establishing a few ‘home truths’...

How good are we?

How different are we from all the others crowding out our virtual world?

... and how can we possibly tell?

What appears to be a golden opportunity to reach a limitless audience, starts to feel more like a musical needle in a global haystack!

To stand a chance of being spotted in this vista, requires the needle to be so bright, so shiny, that it’s tiny ‘volume’ sparkles and catches the eye like the North Star.

It all begins with a jewel.

The ‘4 minutes later...’ Workshop aims to pull you out of yourself.

It focuses you in such a way as to unleash your best material.

It is the product of casting aside record industry ‘manifestos’ and commercial radio’s lowest-common-denominator formats.

Under these constraints, experiencing a hit feels no more meaningful than playing a good hand of poker...

All you can say is... you won!

No careers are born from such thinking. No seed-sowing. Just quick ‘cut flowers’ in a showy display.

But, if the seeds of truthful expression and communication are sowed deeply and soundly, your song-writing life becomes a constant harvest.

Don’t leave your audience as you found them. Change the way they feel... ‘4 minutes later...’