In the increasingly-complicated world of digital technology, there is crossover between the functions of different devices. For example, telephones commonly take photos, surf the Internet, and play music. I personally own a computer, and I own CD players, but I do not possess an “iPod”, “smartphone”, or any other smaller device that plays digital music files.
I probably own a couple hundred 33 rpm “record albums”, as well as dozens of “45s” and even a good number of “78s”.
(Perhaps there might already be people reading this that do not realize that these numbers refer to the speed that the record needs to turn to accurately reproduce the recorded sounds. The earliest of these three formats rotated at 78 revolutions per minute, whereas the revolutionary “long-playing” records -- “LPs” -- rotate at 33 revolutions per minute, and the popular “single” records, generally with one song on each side (like the earlier 78s), rotate at 45 revolutions per minute.)
All three of these formats depend on a “needle” following grooves in the surface of the record, and all are subject to scratches and wear. LPs are particularly subject to “warping” -- for the needle to accurately follow the grooves, the record needs to remain relatively flat. Fans of the newer technologies note that CDs and MP3s are dramatically less subject to wear and damage. CDs are easier to carry around than records, and MP3s, being digital files, hardly need to be carried around at all, and can even be transmitted wirelessly. There continues to be debate about the precise audio characteristics of the different formats, with some record purists maintaining that records have a better “sound”, while acknowledging problems with things like wear, scratches, and even dust.
I love record albums. On a superficial level, the fact that record albums are dramatically larger than CDs means that everything associated with their packaging is larger -- especially the photographs or other artwork. Occasionally, record albums were packaged with posters or other extras. CDs still have photographs and other artwork, and are commonly packaged with CD-sized booklets containing additional photos or lyrics or other information, but they are always at least somewhat limited by the relatively small size. There are also less tangible benefits to record albums. I like holding them, and I have a certain enjoyment of the entire process of “playing” a record.
At the same time, I have slowly acquired a few CDs, and a certain appreciation for some of their apparent advantages over records. They certainly seem less fragile and subject to wear, and their size makes them easier to transport. The fact that modern technology has made it possible to duplicate them yourself is also a plus, but there are complicated legal and moral issues here. This brings up the entire issue of cassette tapes, which I have not mentioned.
It was possible for home users to make their own cassettes long before it was possible to make their own CDs or digital media files. For example, I have a much-loved series of cassettes that I recorded off of radio broadcasts. I also have a cassette I purchased from a local band in a third-world country. Cassettes enjoy some of the benefits of CDs, with their small size and relative convenience, and also make it possible for anyone to easily copy a record, CD, or other cassette. They are not packaged with large photographs, artwork, or posters. Unfortunately, cassettes are perhaps the most subject to wear of all the common music formats.
Record albums, pre-recorded (store-bought) cassettes, and pre-recorded (store-bought) CDs all share one profound attribute lacking from more current digital media: They generally contain multiple songs grouped together, in a specific order, sometimes with a subtle, or even obvious, theme that links them together. At the very least, the songs tend to represent a sort of snapshot of what the artists were doing during a given time period.
Yesterday I was listening to one of my records by David Bromberg. I had never HEARD of David Bromberg, until I repeatedly heard ONE of his songs on campus radio while I was in college. I liked that song so well that I eventually purchased the album containing that song. David Bromberg is an amazing musician, capable of playing many instruments and many styles of music, and it turns out that the album contained a wonderful assortment of his music. I later purchased more of his albums. Though I still enjoy that first song, it is not necessarily my favorite song on the album. AND my tastes continue to evolve. There are songs on the album that I do not appreciate much, but I realize that perhaps someday I WILL.
If I was in college today, and heard that song on campus radio, there is a good chance I would purchase just THAT SONG, and nothing more. Since David Bromberg’s music is so varied, if I decided to purchase another David Bromberg song, without hearing it, there is a good chance it would be so different from the initial song that I might decide not to risk my money on any more of his music.
In fact, I do not know how any “modern” college student would be lucky enough to be exposed to the full range of David Bromberg’s music. Perhaps they might hear him in concert -- though I understand he has dramatically cut back on his performance schedule, and of course some day he will cease to perform publicly, as all musicians some day do. Perhaps someone will recommend that they listen to his music -- but that never happened to ME. My entire love of David Bromberg’s music traces back to that one song, which led to the purchase of the album, which led to the purchase of other albums.
I am not qualified to discuss all the subtle benefits of listening to an entire album of music, an album that contains songs you would not necessarily CHOOSE to listen to. As you repeatedly listen to an album, your tastes WILL evolve. Songs that you never noticed, or even songs that you initially disliked, may become your favorites. This is a good thing.
This truly becomes a much larger issue. Someone with their iPod can ask, “Why should I spend even one second of my precious time listening to music that I did not specifically CHOOSE to listen to? Life is too short for that.” I cannot adequately answer that question, but I know that you SHOULD spend time listening to music that you did not specifically choose to listen to, and music that no one else chose for you. I suppose it has to do with the fact that we cannot know what we enjoy before we experience it for the first time -- and even then, we cannot know what we MAY enjoy with repeated experience, or as we ourselves evolve.
Truth is complicated.
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Art
Art is perhaps too complicated a topic to even attempt to discuss. I like to begin a discussion with a basic (if inadequate) definition. The complexity of discussing “art” stems from the fact that the very definition is complicated, controversial, and elusive. The Wikipedia entry on “art” gives a definition from Britannica Online, which I suppose is as good as any: “the use of skill and imagination in the creation of aesthetic objects, environments, or experiences that can be shared with others”. Wikipedia also notes that philosopher Richard Wollheim describes the nature of art as “one of the most elusive of the traditional problems of human culture”.
Questions regarding “What is art?” can become highly emotional, and are impossible to answer objectively. Like beauty, art is in the eye of the beholder. While I personally am more comfortable with using the term “art” to describe things like paintings and sculptures and music and literature, almost ANYTHING can be viewed as art, and I cannot objectively disagree with someone whose definition of art is different from mine.
At the same time, if we agree to label EVERYTHING as “art”, then the term loses all meaning and usefulness, just as if we were to label all colors shades of “blue”.
In the end, I suppose we must simply acknowledge that each of us has our own standards not only for what constitutes “art”, but also for what “art” we personally find appealing. I would be happier coming up with some objective judgement on what constitutes art, or at least some way to assure that those who were claiming something was “art” were at least sincerely representing their own view, but I know of no way to accomplish either of these goals.
Truth is complicated.
Questions regarding “What is art?” can become highly emotional, and are impossible to answer objectively. Like beauty, art is in the eye of the beholder. While I personally am more comfortable with using the term “art” to describe things like paintings and sculptures and music and literature, almost ANYTHING can be viewed as art, and I cannot objectively disagree with someone whose definition of art is different from mine.
At the same time, if we agree to label EVERYTHING as “art”, then the term loses all meaning and usefulness, just as if we were to label all colors shades of “blue”.
In the end, I suppose we must simply acknowledge that each of us has our own standards not only for what constitutes “art”, but also for what “art” we personally find appealing. I would be happier coming up with some objective judgement on what constitutes art, or at least some way to assure that those who were claiming something was “art” were at least sincerely representing their own view, but I know of no way to accomplish either of these goals.
Truth is complicated.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Correctness versus Communication
The discussion of the debate over whether to call certain guitar chords “barre” or “bar” has pushed me to contemplate the idea that sometimes “correctness” conflicts with “communication”.
These days, any mention of “correctness” with regard to “communication” brings up the idea of “politically correct” -- which is actually not my focus here, but I guess I need to briefly address it.
Though phrases like “politically incorrect” or “politically correct” or even the abbreviation “P.C.” get tossed around a lot, the precise definition of these terms is not widely agreed upon. I am generally a fan of Merriam-Webster, and their online dictionary defines “politically correct” as “conforming to a belief that language and practices which could offend political sensibilities (as in matters of sex or race) should be eliminated”. A similar definition is posted in the “Free Online Dictionary” -- “Of, relating to, or supporting broad social, political, and educational change, especially to redress historical injustices in matters such as race, class, gender, and sexual orientation.”
Various sources cite the fact that the phrase “politically correct” is general used in a disparaging manner -- it is commonly thought to be a BAD thing to be “politically correct”. Without going into a thorough discussion, I will agree that I consider “political correctness” to, in general, be a negative thing, if for no other reason than it inhibits free-flowing communication -- but I acknowledge that political correctness is a complicated topic.
My focus here, though, is actually other forms of correctness, and the extent to which they can interfere with communication. Here are two real-life examples:
My late father was a physician, and regularly attended medical conferences where guest experts would lecture on medical topics. There was a certain lecturer who my father particularly enjoyed, and encountered various times over the years. Sadly, I do not know this lecturer’s name. My father mentioned that eventually this lecturer became totally blind, but still delivered flawless commentaries to his slide shows, from memory. At one lecture, when referring to the large intestine, or “colon”, the lecturer repeatedly pronounced “colon” in an unusual manner, placing equal accent on both syllables, and saying “ahn” rather than “in” or “en” for the second syllable. At the end of the lecture, a member of the audience criticized the lecturer for “mispronouncing” the word “colon”. As my father related the story to me, the lecturer responded that he prepared his lectures very carefully, rehearsing and fine-tuning before a variety of listeners. He had discovered that when he pronounced “colon” CORRECTLY, his listeners often had trouble understanding what word he was saying. When he MISPRONOUNCED it, they understood he was saying the word “colon”, though they believed he was mispronouncing it. So, in the interest of clearer communication, he now consciously mispronounced the word “colon”.
When I tell people the story of this deliberate mispronunciation, they often seem to find it troubling. I find it difficult to argue with the goal of clear communication.
Example number two: I knew an intelligent, well-educated, highly skilled musician, who had strong feelings about the terms used to name her primary instrument, which many people would call the “French horn”. My friend insisted that the correct term was simply “horn”, citing, among other things, the idea that there has never been anything particularly “French” about the “French horn”. I should note that I never completely understood her objections to the term “French horn”; perhaps I am misrepresenting her views. Personally, I lack the expertise to know whether it is truly incorrect to refer to the instrument as a “French horn”. I know that among orchestral musicians, the word “horn” is sometimes adequate to refer to that particular instrument. Unfortunately, to many people, in many contexts, the word “horn” refers to a wide variety of instruments, rather than just the “French horn”, including trumpets, trombones, and tubas, and sometimes even things like saxophones and clarinets. So, when people would ask my friend what instrument she played, and she would reply “horn”, they would often follow up by asking “WHICH horn?” My friend, though possibly being “correct”, was standing in the way of clear communication, refusing to use the terms which would be understood by the larger audience.
These two examples show two sides of the problem, or at least two totally different ways of dealing with it. The medical lecturer believed his top priority was to be understood, and was willing to be viewed as guilty of mispronouncing a word. The musician was more concerned about using the “correct” terminology for her instrument, and was willing to sacrifice clarity of communication and possibly necessitate follow-up questions. As with so many subjects, there are differences regarding personal priorities.
This is a complicated issue, and I do not claim to have the answers.
There is a separate but related issue regarding communication that is so potentially offensive or inflammatory that the clarity is impeded, as in matters of race and ethnicity, among other things. I had intended to go ahead and discuss that issue, but have decided to wait, so as to not risk impeding the clarity of what I have already written.
Truth is complicated.
These days, any mention of “correctness” with regard to “communication” brings up the idea of “politically correct” -- which is actually not my focus here, but I guess I need to briefly address it.
Though phrases like “politically incorrect” or “politically correct” or even the abbreviation “P.C.” get tossed around a lot, the precise definition of these terms is not widely agreed upon. I am generally a fan of Merriam-Webster, and their online dictionary defines “politically correct” as “conforming to a belief that language and practices which could offend political sensibilities (as in matters of sex or race) should be eliminated”. A similar definition is posted in the “Free Online Dictionary” -- “Of, relating to, or supporting broad social, political, and educational change, especially to redress historical injustices in matters such as race, class, gender, and sexual orientation.”
Various sources cite the fact that the phrase “politically correct” is general used in a disparaging manner -- it is commonly thought to be a BAD thing to be “politically correct”. Without going into a thorough discussion, I will agree that I consider “political correctness” to, in general, be a negative thing, if for no other reason than it inhibits free-flowing communication -- but I acknowledge that political correctness is a complicated topic.
My focus here, though, is actually other forms of correctness, and the extent to which they can interfere with communication. Here are two real-life examples:
My late father was a physician, and regularly attended medical conferences where guest experts would lecture on medical topics. There was a certain lecturer who my father particularly enjoyed, and encountered various times over the years. Sadly, I do not know this lecturer’s name. My father mentioned that eventually this lecturer became totally blind, but still delivered flawless commentaries to his slide shows, from memory. At one lecture, when referring to the large intestine, or “colon”, the lecturer repeatedly pronounced “colon” in an unusual manner, placing equal accent on both syllables, and saying “ahn” rather than “in” or “en” for the second syllable. At the end of the lecture, a member of the audience criticized the lecturer for “mispronouncing” the word “colon”. As my father related the story to me, the lecturer responded that he prepared his lectures very carefully, rehearsing and fine-tuning before a variety of listeners. He had discovered that when he pronounced “colon” CORRECTLY, his listeners often had trouble understanding what word he was saying. When he MISPRONOUNCED it, they understood he was saying the word “colon”, though they believed he was mispronouncing it. So, in the interest of clearer communication, he now consciously mispronounced the word “colon”.
When I tell people the story of this deliberate mispronunciation, they often seem to find it troubling. I find it difficult to argue with the goal of clear communication.
Example number two: I knew an intelligent, well-educated, highly skilled musician, who had strong feelings about the terms used to name her primary instrument, which many people would call the “French horn”. My friend insisted that the correct term was simply “horn”, citing, among other things, the idea that there has never been anything particularly “French” about the “French horn”. I should note that I never completely understood her objections to the term “French horn”; perhaps I am misrepresenting her views. Personally, I lack the expertise to know whether it is truly incorrect to refer to the instrument as a “French horn”. I know that among orchestral musicians, the word “horn” is sometimes adequate to refer to that particular instrument. Unfortunately, to many people, in many contexts, the word “horn” refers to a wide variety of instruments, rather than just the “French horn”, including trumpets, trombones, and tubas, and sometimes even things like saxophones and clarinets. So, when people would ask my friend what instrument she played, and she would reply “horn”, they would often follow up by asking “WHICH horn?” My friend, though possibly being “correct”, was standing in the way of clear communication, refusing to use the terms which would be understood by the larger audience.
These two examples show two sides of the problem, or at least two totally different ways of dealing with it. The medical lecturer believed his top priority was to be understood, and was willing to be viewed as guilty of mispronouncing a word. The musician was more concerned about using the “correct” terminology for her instrument, and was willing to sacrifice clarity of communication and possibly necessitate follow-up questions. As with so many subjects, there are differences regarding personal priorities.
This is a complicated issue, and I do not claim to have the answers.
There is a separate but related issue regarding communication that is so potentially offensive or inflammatory that the clarity is impeded, as in matters of race and ethnicity, among other things. I had intended to go ahead and discuss that issue, but have decided to wait, so as to not risk impeding the clarity of what I have already written.
Truth is complicated.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Beyond songs and guitars
At first glance, my previous blog entry, “Concerning songs and guitars”, would only seem relevant to someone with at least a rudimentary knowledge of how to play a guitar. Slightly deeper examination, however, of the blog entry -- which was itself a reply to another person’s blog entry -- and the associated “comments”, reveal several more general concepts. (Note: The "comments" are visible only by following the above link to the alternate version of this blog.)
First, there is the overwhelming importance of how each person defines individual words. In this case, my entire disagreement with the original blog post was based upon using a different definition of the word “song” than the blogger, Wheat Williams, had in mind. If I accept and use HIS definition, then we no longer have a disagreement, except perhaps over the definition, which is a completely different disagreement. I suspect wars have begun over disagreements that were actually just cases of differing definitions.
Then there are cases of personal taste and differing priorities. For example, I very much enjoy the SOUND of standard “open” chords -- what Wheat Williams refers to as “the ‘cliches’ of open chord voicings” -- while he specifically tunes his guitar in such a way that they cannot be played. Even if you do not know what an "open" guitar chord IS, you can understand the conflict between one person LIKING a particular sound, and another person avoiding it. There is no particular “right” or “wrong” here, regardless of how much someone likes or dislikes some particular aspect of guitar playing.
Finally, there is my spelling of “bar” chords, which Wheat Williams corrects to “barre”. I freely admit that I do not possess the expertise to debate anyone on this point. My focus has always been on PLAYING the guitar, and not so much on SPEAKING about it, and almost no focus at all on WRITING/SPELLING about it. It may be that “barre” is absolutely correct and “bar” is absolutely incorrect. Still, for those who may not even know what a barre/bar chord IS, I quote a few sources from the World Wide Web:
From YourDictionary.com, at http://www.yourdictionary.com/barre, there is:
barre (bär) also sp. bar; and
barre also bar (bär); which, incidentally, they define as “A fingering technique used with fretted stringed instruments in which a finger is laid across the fretboard to stop all or several strings at once.”
From Answers.com, at http://www.answers.com/topic/barre-chord, there is:
Barre chords (also known as bar chords, but more commonly spelled as "barre")
Timothy Woods, in a Suite101 article at
http://guitar.suite101.com/article.cfm/learn-how-to-play-bar-chords-on-guitar
“The bar chord (or barre chord, as it is also spelled)”
Harvey Reeves, in an ezine article at http://ezinearticles.com/?Guitar-Bar-Chords---The-Secret-of-How-to-Play-E---Shape-Bar-Chord&id=1814115
“I've been looking at a lot of advice on how to play bar chords, or barre chords (they're the same thing)”
Chip Evans, in the Acoustic Guitar Forum at http://www.acousticguitarforum.com/forums/archive/index.php/t-59043.html
“during my 35 years of teaching I have never heard the term "barre" used as much as it is on this forum. If english is your language the term "bar chord" is ok to use, in fact, they are easier to play :)”
But my favorite online barre/bar comment comes from Guitar for Beginners, at http://www.guitarforbeginners.com/barre.html
“Barre chords, or to use the less pretentious spelling, bar chords, are the reason the guitar is so cool.”
My POINT in listing these six online sources is NOT to debate the issue of which spelling is correct. Anyone can put anything on the Internet, and “barre” may still be absolutely correct and “bar” may still be absolutely incorrect. On an intellectual/philosophical level, the thing I enjoy most about the barre/bar “debate” is that it is NOT a debate between those who believe “barre” is correct and those who believe “bar” is correct. It is a debate between those who believe it MATTERS which spelling you use, and those who believe the two spellings are pretty much interchangeable. Such debates are tricky. It is usually easier to debate which of two positions is correct, rather than to debate whether the issue is significant -- and sometimes these two separate debates get confused with each other.
Still, I do not know enough about “barre” chords to know even whether the issue is significant. At this point, I am torn between just trusting Wheat Williams, who seems like a knowledgeable fellow, and sticking with my initial uneducated opinion that “barre” seems a bit pretentious.
I want to thank Wheat Williams for his original post, and his excellent blog, and for graciously contributing to THIS blog.
Truth is complicated.
First, there is the overwhelming importance of how each person defines individual words. In this case, my entire disagreement with the original blog post was based upon using a different definition of the word “song” than the blogger, Wheat Williams, had in mind. If I accept and use HIS definition, then we no longer have a disagreement, except perhaps over the definition, which is a completely different disagreement. I suspect wars have begun over disagreements that were actually just cases of differing definitions.
Then there are cases of personal taste and differing priorities. For example, I very much enjoy the SOUND of standard “open” chords -- what Wheat Williams refers to as “the ‘cliches’ of open chord voicings” -- while he specifically tunes his guitar in such a way that they cannot be played. Even if you do not know what an "open" guitar chord IS, you can understand the conflict between one person LIKING a particular sound, and another person avoiding it. There is no particular “right” or “wrong” here, regardless of how much someone likes or dislikes some particular aspect of guitar playing.
Finally, there is my spelling of “bar” chords, which Wheat Williams corrects to “barre”. I freely admit that I do not possess the expertise to debate anyone on this point. My focus has always been on PLAYING the guitar, and not so much on SPEAKING about it, and almost no focus at all on WRITING/SPELLING about it. It may be that “barre” is absolutely correct and “bar” is absolutely incorrect. Still, for those who may not even know what a barre/bar chord IS, I quote a few sources from the World Wide Web:
From YourDictionary.com, at http://www.yourdictionary.com/barre, there is:
barre (bär) also sp. bar; and
barre also bar (bär); which, incidentally, they define as “A fingering technique used with fretted stringed instruments in which a finger is laid across the fretboard to stop all or several strings at once.”
From Answers.com, at http://www.answers.com/topic/barre-chord, there is:
Barre chords (also known as bar chords, but more commonly spelled as "barre")
Timothy Woods, in a Suite101 article at
http://guitar.suite101.com/article.cfm/learn-how-to-play-bar-chords-on-guitar
“The bar chord (or barre chord, as it is also spelled)”
Harvey Reeves, in an ezine article at http://ezinearticles.com/?Guitar-Bar-Chords---The-Secret-of-How-to-Play-E---Shape-Bar-Chord&id=1814115
“I've been looking at a lot of advice on how to play bar chords, or barre chords (they're the same thing)”
Chip Evans, in the Acoustic Guitar Forum at http://www.acousticguitarforum.com/forums/archive/index.php/t-59043.html
“during my 35 years of teaching I have never heard the term "barre" used as much as it is on this forum. If english is your language the term "bar chord" is ok to use, in fact, they are easier to play :)”
But my favorite online barre/bar comment comes from Guitar for Beginners, at http://www.guitarforbeginners.com/barre.html
“Barre chords, or to use the less pretentious spelling, bar chords, are the reason the guitar is so cool.”
My POINT in listing these six online sources is NOT to debate the issue of which spelling is correct. Anyone can put anything on the Internet, and “barre” may still be absolutely correct and “bar” may still be absolutely incorrect. On an intellectual/philosophical level, the thing I enjoy most about the barre/bar “debate” is that it is NOT a debate between those who believe “barre” is correct and those who believe “bar” is correct. It is a debate between those who believe it MATTERS which spelling you use, and those who believe the two spellings are pretty much interchangeable. Such debates are tricky. It is usually easier to debate which of two positions is correct, rather than to debate whether the issue is significant -- and sometimes these two separate debates get confused with each other.
Still, I do not know enough about “barre” chords to know even whether the issue is significant. At this point, I am torn between just trusting Wheat Williams, who seems like a knowledgeable fellow, and sticking with my initial uneducated opinion that “barre” seems a bit pretentious.
I want to thank Wheat Williams for his original post, and his excellent blog, and for graciously contributing to THIS blog.
Truth is complicated.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Concerning songs and guitars
Among the many things I do not fully understand about blogging, there is the entire area of “comments” or replies. As far as I can determine, I have only had one real, legitimate, comment posted so far in my blog -- the blogging service has automatically filtered out others considered “spam”.
Among the murky issues, there is copyright. If I write it, whether it is posted on my blog or on someone else’s, it is automatically copyrighted to ME, just as anything YOU write but post on MY blog is copyrighted to YOU. This is a major reason many blogs frown on anonymous comments -- since anything YOU write remains YOUR intellectual property, the blog owner needs some way to trace ownership of the comment back to YOU.
The other day I ran across an interesting blog post which has inspired me to post a comment on that blog. To keep the ownership issues clear, I have decided to post my comment first here, on my own blog, before I post it as a comment elsewhere. Perhaps this is stupid or otherwise inappropriate. I continue to learn by doing.
The original blog post was entitled “How Rock Ruined Songs.” The blogger writes eloquently, and any attempt on my part to summarize his post will not do it justice, but he basically argues that since rock guitar parts tend to be played in specific keys, this limits the vocalist to singing in those keys, rather than freely transposing into keys more comfortable for the individual vocalist. As I said, this is an oversimplification, and if you are interested, you should refer back to the original post at http://wheatwilliams.com/wordpress/2009/09/18/how-rock-ruined-songs/.
Here is my response:
You make many interesting points, and I cannot disagree with your conclusions -- provided that you define “song” as a melody-driven primarily vocal endeavor, with other instruments relegated to supporting the vocalist or vocalists.
For me, it is more complicated. When I listen to music, whether live, recorded, or broadcast, I tend to view the vocalist(s) as simply one of the various instruments -- often a solo instrument, but not necessarily much more important than the others. Furthermore, I am increasingly convinced that the overall appeal and “sound” of any given piece of music depends more on the underlying chord structure than on the melody itself.
After voice, my formal musical training was piano and then trumpet, with guitar coming third among my main instruments. I perform most regularly on trumpet, in a brass quintet, a symphony orchestra, two brass bands and a variety of other groups. Incidentally, my favorite style for trumpet playing is jazz. My favorite style for guitar playing is folk.
While I am not sure about the proper musical term for this, one of my favorite things about the guitar is its irregularity. That is, due to the traditional tunings of the six strings, the chords used to accompany a song in the key of G sound completely different than the chords used to accompany a song in the key of A. On the piano or on the trumpet, I can play a song in either G or A, and the difference between the two keys will be mostly just the difference in pitch. On guitar, EVERYTHING changes -- or, at least, in my humble opinion, everything SHOULD change. I have little respect for those guitarists who eschew open chords and instead focus mostly on bar chords, making the keys sound interchangeable.
When I listen to a recording of a piano or a trumpet, it is a relatively straightforward matter to roughly duplicate what I hear. With a guitar, it can be an incredible challenge discerning how the guitarist used the particular combination of fingers and strings to achieve the sounds -- especially if the guitarist used a capo or non-standard tunings. Again, this is one of the things I love about the guitar, and, in my mind, what sets it apart from other instruments.
Incidentally, when I sing along with my guitar, I make extensive use of a capo to try and match the chords and fingerings of other guitarists, or simply to get the “sound” I am striving for, while suiting my own unique voice. I also accept that there are certain songs I simply cannot perform the way I would like to perform them, since even with a capo they fall outside of my vocal range.
I am not saying that a guitarist is obligated to copy the notes or keys of some other guitarist, although that is an option, and sometimes the best option. (Sometimes another instrument will attempt to duplicate the notes of a guitar riff -- this is one way to handle performing a guitar-based song in a completely different key.) The guitarist is simply obligated to attempt to contribute to each unique piece of music using their unique abilities and the unique characteristics of the instrument -- which they should embrace, rather than struggle against. Not every song is suited for every instrument or every instrumentalist or every vocalist, and there is no reason why they SHOULD be.
Finally, while I am not a music historian, it seems to me that “from the dawn of time” most early instruments capable of varied pitches tended to have a limited range and a limited number of available keys, so the vocalists would have to accommodate THEM. The development of instruments capable of easily performing in all keys came later ...
Still, it all comes down to your definition of “song.”
Among the murky issues, there is copyright. If I write it, whether it is posted on my blog or on someone else’s, it is automatically copyrighted to ME, just as anything YOU write but post on MY blog is copyrighted to YOU. This is a major reason many blogs frown on anonymous comments -- since anything YOU write remains YOUR intellectual property, the blog owner needs some way to trace ownership of the comment back to YOU.
The other day I ran across an interesting blog post which has inspired me to post a comment on that blog. To keep the ownership issues clear, I have decided to post my comment first here, on my own blog, before I post it as a comment elsewhere. Perhaps this is stupid or otherwise inappropriate. I continue to learn by doing.
The original blog post was entitled “How Rock Ruined Songs.” The blogger writes eloquently, and any attempt on my part to summarize his post will not do it justice, but he basically argues that since rock guitar parts tend to be played in specific keys, this limits the vocalist to singing in those keys, rather than freely transposing into keys more comfortable for the individual vocalist. As I said, this is an oversimplification, and if you are interested, you should refer back to the original post at http://wheatwilliams.com/wordpress/2009/09/18/how-rock-ruined-songs/.
Here is my response:
You make many interesting points, and I cannot disagree with your conclusions -- provided that you define “song” as a melody-driven primarily vocal endeavor, with other instruments relegated to supporting the vocalist or vocalists.
For me, it is more complicated. When I listen to music, whether live, recorded, or broadcast, I tend to view the vocalist(s) as simply one of the various instruments -- often a solo instrument, but not necessarily much more important than the others. Furthermore, I am increasingly convinced that the overall appeal and “sound” of any given piece of music depends more on the underlying chord structure than on the melody itself.
After voice, my formal musical training was piano and then trumpet, with guitar coming third among my main instruments. I perform most regularly on trumpet, in a brass quintet, a symphony orchestra, two brass bands and a variety of other groups. Incidentally, my favorite style for trumpet playing is jazz. My favorite style for guitar playing is folk.
While I am not sure about the proper musical term for this, one of my favorite things about the guitar is its irregularity. That is, due to the traditional tunings of the six strings, the chords used to accompany a song in the key of G sound completely different than the chords used to accompany a song in the key of A. On the piano or on the trumpet, I can play a song in either G or A, and the difference between the two keys will be mostly just the difference in pitch. On guitar, EVERYTHING changes -- or, at least, in my humble opinion, everything SHOULD change. I have little respect for those guitarists who eschew open chords and instead focus mostly on bar chords, making the keys sound interchangeable.
When I listen to a recording of a piano or a trumpet, it is a relatively straightforward matter to roughly duplicate what I hear. With a guitar, it can be an incredible challenge discerning how the guitarist used the particular combination of fingers and strings to achieve the sounds -- especially if the guitarist used a capo or non-standard tunings. Again, this is one of the things I love about the guitar, and, in my mind, what sets it apart from other instruments.
Incidentally, when I sing along with my guitar, I make extensive use of a capo to try and match the chords and fingerings of other guitarists, or simply to get the “sound” I am striving for, while suiting my own unique voice. I also accept that there are certain songs I simply cannot perform the way I would like to perform them, since even with a capo they fall outside of my vocal range.
I am not saying that a guitarist is obligated to copy the notes or keys of some other guitarist, although that is an option, and sometimes the best option. (Sometimes another instrument will attempt to duplicate the notes of a guitar riff -- this is one way to handle performing a guitar-based song in a completely different key.) The guitarist is simply obligated to attempt to contribute to each unique piece of music using their unique abilities and the unique characteristics of the instrument -- which they should embrace, rather than struggle against. Not every song is suited for every instrument or every instrumentalist or every vocalist, and there is no reason why they SHOULD be.
Finally, while I am not a music historian, it seems to me that “from the dawn of time” most early instruments capable of varied pitches tended to have a limited range and a limited number of available keys, so the vocalists would have to accommodate THEM. The development of instruments capable of easily performing in all keys came later ...
Still, it all comes down to your definition of “song.”
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