I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve heard in recent years someone saying “there’s too much music”. Just how does one understand that? How do you explain it? What do you do about it? What is the most sane course of action in reaction for someone who still has got the creative bug and is going to make music anyway? This is something I have been thinking about.
A recent trip to the coast and Brisbane to throw myself into the middle of ‘normal consumer culture’ of malls, record shops, party music and listening to radio like Triple J has produced the following vague realizations for me. It does indeed feel like music saturation is at an all time high yet in line with this the depth of appreciation of music is respectively shallow. More hasn’t equated to a ‘better experience’ nor has it led to an improvement socially or culturally with noticeable outcomes. Now more than ever you can easily access, via live music or music media, whatever taste you want to explore from classic over-played hits to the most obscure avant garde curiosities on the bleeding edge of whatever. But somehow our experiences don’t cumulatively flourish into vibrant rainbows but instead into a gray haze of blandness. When asked what do we REALLY want to hear that will inspire, invigorate and move us forward we really can’t qualify an answer of any use. To compound the situation we now have more people on the planet meaning more people making music easily with the accessible enhancements of consumer technology; add global dramas of economic, environmental and violent natures to the mix; add the chaos and instant gratification of the internet; add the crumbling certainties of the music industry and capitalism with it; add finally plain cultural confusion in western identity and purpose – and you have a situation that pumps out music like never before that we collectively greet with a drawn out yawn. True silence becomes priceless.
How do people stop themselves from being cynical in such circumstances save from being sheltered in self absorbed naivety? Worse still, how does a composer move forward with their own urges in the face of everything? Are you part of the solution or part of the problem? It’s hard to know and objectivity in this situation is quite slippery. Personally I press on because I’ve got no choice, the music has decided for me to express it – but that doesn’t prevent me from pumping out albums worth of bland stuff with only hints of personalized character, causing more yawns. I used to think ’soul’ would win people over, but is there such thing as too much ’soul’? There is no proper answer to that question. Any possible absolute negativity negates the possibility for unexpected surprises in music, which underground sources produce occasionally above the dilution. Such gems are rare, but I guess they are to be treasured and understood none the less. That point emphasizes that music isn’t about results, it’s about a journey of consciousness: for both composer and listener. And it is far more subtle than we think it is, far more humble and private.
A wine connoisseur doesn’t get excited over any old vintage: they have to look far, wide and deep for that special experience. So it is for music. And thus it validates all stations of music, from shallow corporate pop to the weirdest most buried oddities – they all have their place for the journey of the respective composers and respective audiences. Those of us suffering from ’saturation sickness’ could find comfort in this realization – that their own methods for finding those gems is a different challenge than one on the easy avenues of mass culture and mass consumerism. Don’t stand in the surf and be pummeled by the onslaught of the waves: go to shallows and look closely at the shells and stones. The energy you save doing this allows you to better spend you time enjoying things and thus better dealing with the dramas of the world.