Diluting Ritual

I was over at some friend’s house the other night listening to music. Occasionally, in just the right frame of mind, music can become visual. Not just in terms of music videos and DVD’s, but even when only listening to music there can be a visual component to it. On this particular early evening we were listening to a French electronica band called “Air.” I like electronica for the reason that it can be so precise and Air posed no exception to this rule. In my visualization of the music the ethereal keyboards were creating a waterfall, a clean shimmering sheet of music that cascaded over a straight drop-off. Hidden behind the sheet of musical liquid created by the keyboards there were niches, foot-holds in an otherwise apparently smooth rock face. The punctuating synthesized bass notes exposed these foot-holds, so that every time one of the crisp clear digital bass notes sounded a divet formed in the sheet of liquid keyboard sound. These bass notes climbed up through the waterfall, reaching for the inevitable musical crescendo. It was great to re-experience this profound ritual that is music when it is placed in a specific set and setting.

I have my fears that many are starting to miss out on the profundity that can accompany music when it is framed in the proper context. I am concerned that the ubiquitous nature of music, in the grocery stores, behind television advertisements, in our workplaces, on our iPods – I am concerned that this constant exposure to a potentially powerful ritualistic component, is diluting that power.

Music through the ages has always been powerful. In spiritual rites music has been used to transport listeners to a different plane of existence, in battle music has been used to inspire fear and awe in one’s opponents. And likely I’m being presumptuous, assuming that because music is being focus-grouped, mass-marketed, and successes regurgitated, that for each individual there are still not just as many moments of profundity based on context and personal emotion. Because of course the power generated by the ritual of music comes not from the music itself but from the interaction between the music and the listener.

But I do know that we have become a dangerously consumptive society. We have substituted possessions for experience and as a result we have diluted the power of material items. Disposable goods no longer include just paper towels and toilet paper, but now encompass a host of electronic gadgets and gizmos including stereos, computers, and television sets. The T.V. repairman is a thing of the past, when the boob-tube goes on the fritz now just toss it in the dumpster and buy yourself a new one – after a couple of years the one you are watching now will be obsolete anyway. The result of this is that material possessions are not as significant as they once were. My wife’s grandparents from the Mid-West received, every Christmas, a single orange in their stockings. And they were absolutely enthralled with that gift! Back then oranges were a genuine tropical curiosity in the frozen wind-whipped land that is Michigan in the winter. It’s difficult to imagine a child being excited by the prospect of getting an orange, and only an orange, in their stocking for Christmas.

Of course times have changed and you can’t stop progress – but there’s nothing wrong with settling down and taking a pensive look at what we’re calling progress to determine whether or not our perceived “progress” is really making our world any better.

And so I see the same hazards for music. As music is packaged and marketed more and more like a commodity, another disposable bit of consumerism, I don’t think it can help but to lose some of its spiritual and ritualistic powers. So that’s the question I am asking myself today. “Progress” has given us this incredible exposure to so much more information. But are we really better off because we can spend every waking minute of our day listening to music, watching television, or watching movies on our telephones? At some point are we sacrificing quietude, reflective contemplation, and a wonder in the natural world that surrounds us, for the benefit of constant non-stop pre-packaged artificial stimulation from the moment we wake up until we go to bed?

R.I.P. Barbaro

On a sad note the beautiful Kentucky Derby winner Barbaro who suffered a horrific break-down in the Preakness had to be put down after more complications from a seven month long series of surgeries and procedures arose. May your pastures always be green and filled with pretty mares.

Welcome to Immaculate Infection!

Welcome to the on-line home of "Immaculate Infection." Immaculate Infection is a column I have been writing for the past eight months or so. It appears in a free weekly publication here in Chico, California called the Synthesis. Over the course of writing this column I have been asked on occasion how people could view my column on-line. Until now there was no way to do this. But from here on out I will be posting my column each week onto this blog.

Please note that what will be appearing here are the unedited versions of my columns. In some cases this may be better and in others you may notice typographical errors and problems that likely did not appear in the print edition. Any errors are my own.

In addition to the weekly columns I write for the Synthesis I will also be able to publish other thoughts and comments that for whatever reason would not fit into the weekly publications format.

Finally one of the great things about this blog is that it is very easy for you the reader to make comments whenever you feel so inspired. I welcome any and all comments.

Thanks for taking the time to read this.

Sincerely,

Bob Howard