scattered thoughts on church music

I try not to pay much attention to the worship wars these days, but as an active church musician and musicologist I pretty much can’t help it sometimes.  My personal take: there’s room for both traditional and contemporary styles, even in the same service.  However, my attitude is that traditional songs should remain traditional and contemporary ones should remain contemporary.*  If there’s anything in modern worship music that I find distasteful it’s the rocking-up of classic hymns; this isn’t to say that you can’t mix some hymns in there, I just don’t want to hear generic rock beats and guitar strums.  Give it to me with the piano and organ, old-school style.  Similarly, I strongly believe that traditional, piano/organ-accompanied choirs shouldn’t do arrangements of contemporary P&W band music.**  They have hundreds of years of sacred music tradition and a pool of literally thousands (tens of thousands?  Hundreds of thousands?) of compositions from which to draw.  (I don’t care if the words are in another language, put the translation in the bulletin insert!)

This leads me to the issue of modern composition for the church, one that I’m sure many others have written about with far more eloquence than I can muster here.  Sacred music isn’t exactly my specialty, but I can tell you that up through the 18th century, the church was a powerful (if gradually diminishing) catalyst for new art music; church music leaders were expected to regularly prepare new material.  In addition to choir pieces, chorales and organ pieces, many composers (not just heavy hitters such as Bach and Handel) cranked out larger-scale works such as masses, oratorios, cantatas, concertos and other instrumental pieces for special occasions.

I won’t go into a long ramble about all the factors that led to the demise of art music in church.  It’s over and done.  But why can’t it come back?  Is it because of the absence of classical musicians in our congregations willing and able to rehearse and perform the material?  The lack of composers interested in composing for churches?  The lack of interest on the part of churches to encourage, nurture and promote whatever compositional talent may exist in their membership?  Secular academia’s near monopoly on classical composition programs?***  Who knows.  It may be one or it may be all of these.

* For some reason, this reminds me a little bit of Paul’s marriage advice in I Corinthians 7: if you’re married, stay that way.  If you’re single, stay that way.

**On a semi-related note, I think this is why I didn’t care for the trend in the early 2000s of symphonies interpreting the music of famous rock bands (Pink Floyd, Yes, Metallica, etc.); the idea of juxtaposing rock aesthetics and purely orchestral timbres just leaves me cold.  Maybe all those albums are really awesome and I’m totally missing out, but I’ll take the risk…

*** I include this question because, as a percussionist and enthusiast of weird music, I would love to see more adventurous, risky Christian music that incorporates elements of the avant-garde, experimental music, free improvisation, etc. — all of which are heavily (if not completely) secularized and dominated by academia.  Classical music may fly in church still, but I can’t say the same for contemporary art music.

Happy Rush Day, 2-1-12!

Hearing Rush for the first time was a milestone in my musical development. One of the snare drummers in our high school marching band brought in the cassette A Show of Hands and played Neil Peart’s drum solo “The Rhythm Method” for us. I was completely floored, and I quickly went out and bought myself a copy of that tape. Rush’s 1980s sound was somewhat at odds with my then-prevalent taste for thrash and classic heavy metal, but the drumming was so fantastic and unique to my ear that the rest didn’t matter so much. A friend had the Chronicles 2-tape compilation, I played the crap out of that one and through it started branching out into their earlier material. Within a year or so I had acquired all their albums on tape, and Peart had completely and utterly dethroned (yuk yuk) Iron Maiden’s Nicko McBrain as my #1 drum hero. Rush was also my progressive rock gateway drug; from them I explored King Crimson, Yes, early Genesis, ELP, and then wandered even further down the rabbit hole…

I think 2112 may have been one of the first 1970s Rush album I bought (if not the first), and I still remember the tom-tom fills in “Presentation” totally slaying me when I first heard them. I don’t listen to Rush that often anymore, but every now and then I’ll pull out a Rush album — Caress of Steel, Farewell to Kings, and Hemispheres are my studio favorites, Exit Stage Left live — and give it a spin. Great band, great music, great memories.

Hobbit music

Every so often, I pop over to Craigslist to browse the musicians ads.  I’m not really looking for a regular gig or anything, it’s mostly just for kicks and to check out the spectrum of what people are wanting to play.  The ads generally seem pretty ho-hum to me, but occasionally very interesting projects are advertised.  File this one in the latter category: Hobbit Music Needed.  Among the elements desired for the resurrection of “The Hobbit Hole” are “D&D tournaments” and “bluegrass or hobbity music.” As a lifelong Tolkien fan, D&D player since the mid-80s, and percussionist interested in various musical stand-ins for fantasy music (early music, folk, ambient, Middle Eastern, etc.), there’s no way I could resist this one.  Bluegrass doesn’t really strike me as the sort of thing they’d play in the Shire — it doesn’t sound archaic enough or English enough to my ear — but I’m all for hobbity music, so I had to reply.

The hobbit music I’m hearing in my mind’s ear is a mix of Medieval instrumental tunes and secular songs, and droney psychedelic folk-ish stuff along the lines of In Gowan Ring and early Six Organs of Admittance.  Maybe with a little bit of free improvisation thrown in for good measure, just because that’s how I like to do it.  I’m reminded of how Stephen Michael Sechi’s Music for Talislanta, which he composed and performed as the various racial and ethnic musics of the races populating Talislanta, a fantasy RPG setting he designed and published.  I don’t really care for the very synthesized sound of much of Sechi’s work, but I think the concept is pretty cool.  Perhaps a survey of Middle Earth’s music cultures could be arranged?  Hmm, I’ll have to keep thinking on this one…

UPDATE, 2/8/12: I didn’t go to the informational meeting.  I didn’t have a cloak to wear, didn’t know the secret knock, and never received a reply to my email inquiry.  It didn’t help matters that we were swamped with activities going on that day; even if I had a cloak and the knock, I probably still wouldn’t have been able to attend.  Oh well, I’ll just have to keep dreaming about my own hobbit music for now.

the library is open!!!

For the past few years, the J. Paul Leonard Library at San Francisco State University was closed to the public while it underwent a major renovation and upgrade project.  Today is the unveiling of at least part of the library.  While users still can’t go up and browse the stacks, they can come in and pick up holds at the circulation desk and use the open study space and wi-fi.  I went in to the building briefly just to look around — this is so exciting, I can’t wait for the rest of the services move in over the next few months!

music school reflections

A few weeks ago I had a conversation with someone about graduate schools, and the subject of my brief sojourn at CalArts briefly came up.  It’s kind of a complicated topic, and I don’t have a satisfactory sound bite answer to the question, “why did you drop out?”  This last week I watched Noisy People, a cool documentary about improvising musicians in the SF Bay Area, and had an “a-ha! moment” (~4:13-5:15) during the Philip Greenlief segment that reminded me of that prior conversation.

4: Phillip Greenlief (NOISY PEOPLE) from tim perkis on Vimeo.

Philip’s struggle with life as professional musician resonated with me, as that was something I wrestled with constantly at CalArts.  I was extremely passionate about free improvisation and experimental music, but everything else felt like work; improvising with my friends was the only music-making that was joyful in  those months.  Thinking ahead to graduation, the idea of trying to make a career as a professional working musician was incredibly unappealing.  (I have the utmost respect for those who can walk that path, but it wasn’t for me.)  Ironically, my desire to have a musical life that was free and joyful was a major factor in my decision to leave music school and explore another career option: “Hey, the library is a pretty chill place to work.  I enjoy the work, I’m not all fried when I get home, so then I can pursue whatever music I want.  Maybe I should look into library school…”

Pink Floyd Live at Pompeii

The concert film Pink Floyd Live at Pompeii was my introduction to my favorite era of Pink Floyd, the stretch of years 1968-71 between Syd Barrett’s departure and the landmark moment that changed the band forever, the 1972 release of Dark Side of the Moon that catapulted them to superstardom.  Prior to the time I rented the VHS tape (the 1974 theatrical version) sometime in 1993-94, I hardly knew anything about the band’s early proclivities for space rock and experimental music.  ”Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun” (with Mason’s inspiring tom-tom mallet work), “Careful with that Axe Eugene” and “A Saucerful of Secrets” were all revelations exploding in my brain…

It took me a while to get on the DVD bandwagon (I think I’ve been slow with every new format — CD, mp3, ebooks, etc.), but by the time I did the VHS version of the film had been replaced by the Director’s Cut version.  My enthusiasm for getting a DVD upgrade of the movie was undiminished, until I started watching.  The awesome opening sequence, with its shots of ruins and the amphitheatre set to a sinister heartbeat-and-drones soundtrack, was gone.  In its place were generic footage of rocket launches, the moon, etc….  What?   Apparently the director wasn’t down with the idea of “establishing shots,” since he wiped out a great sequence that actually set the atmosphere and context for the performance.  Just because Floyd was still considered a space rock group, someone thought some crappy space clips would be more appropriate?

Given that the band is milking their legacy like crazy — case in point, the ridiculous Dark Side of the Moon Immersion Box – I keep hoping that the 1974 theatrical edition (or the original 1972 release) will be re-released on DVD, maybe even all three versions together as a super combo pack.  But since it’s an artifact from a less popular (i.e. less profitable) era of their career, I’m not going to hold my breath.

Live at Pompeii isn’t a perfect movie, but it’s great despite its flaws.  My advice to anyone with the Director’s Cut: Skip the DVD intro and just start by watching this, then when you hear the opening piano “ping” of “Echoes part I” (at 3:37) you can switch over to the DVD.

New Phonic Art – Begegnung in Baden-Baden

After I finished my undergrad, I did a semester as a graduate percussion student at CalArts before changing gears and heading to library school instead.  One of the few big takeaways I had from my CalArts experience was a deeper understanding of and enthusiasm for free improvisation.  I played in an improv group called “Wodensday” (we played on Wednesdays) that drew inspiration from, among other things, an obscure 1971 album by an avant-garde quartet called New Phonic Art. I discovered this album — properly titled Begegnung in Baden-Baden – in the music library purely by accident and upon hearing it, I was totally entranced.   Nearly every day I would plant myself at one of the record player-equipped listening stations’ low sofa chairs, put on my headphones, and listen.  (Side note: my other personal music discoveries that semester were Songs of the Humpback Whale, Stockhausen’s Es und Aufwärts - Aus den sieben Tagen and stuff by Lukas Foss’s Improvisation Chamber Ensemble.)

Prior to hearing NPA, the only European free improv I owned was The Music Improvisation Company 1968-71 and Imaginary Values by Evan Parker/Barry Guy/Paul Lytton.  (Much as I love 1973-74 King Crimson, I can’t include them on this very short list…)  NPA 1971 was quite a contrast, with its relatively low dynamic levels and incredible amount of space.  The recording as a whole seems so restrained and disciplined, something I found remarkable given my prior (albeit limited) exposure to free music.  Percussionist Jean-Pierre Drouet’s mix of sounds — drums, marimba, gongs, etc. — was an affirmation of my then-interest in using an orchestral multiple-percussion setup for improvisation rather than the standard “drum set plus” used in free jazz and experimental rock.

After my pleasant experience revisiting Begegnung in Baden-Baden, I did a little more digging and found an equally enjoyable live recording from 1976 or 1977 (link below).  Begegnung is definitely worth checking out — it’s free, so what have you got to lose?  If you’re new to European free improvisation, I can’t think of a better place to start.

New Phonic Art – Begegnung in Baden-Baden (Wergo, 1971) (includes liner notes!)

New Phonic Art live in concert, 1976 or 1977

Other (rare, OOP) recordings by the group:

New Phonic Art 1973 (part of the Deutsche Grammophon Free Improvisation box set)

Dramas und Correspondences (credited to Vinko Globokar)

The cyclic nature of musical interest

It’s always a challenge for me to sustain interest in a genre of music for an extended period of time, say, more than a month or two.  After that time, I move along to another of my musical interests.  Here are the primary phases of my listening cycle, in no particular order:

• Space rock (Gong, Hawkwind, early Pink Floyd, Zone Six, etc.), Kosmische Musik and spacey post-rock
• 70s progressive rock
• Jazz (usually an unpredictable mix of free jazz, ECM stuff, kozmigroov and various fusions)
• Medieval instrumental music (and by extension Middle Eastern/North African traditional music)
• Folksy stuff (modern psych folk, 70s British folk-rock, 70s Christian folk stuff)
• Experimental music (including some electronic music and free improvisation)
• Ambient (ranging from organic ambient and droney stuff to psy-dub/psybient EDM)
• Heavy stuff (stoner rock, classic heavy metal, thrash, doom)
• 1972-74 Grateful Dead — usually late spring/early summer for some reason (?)

These phases aren’t all equally represented in the cycle; there’s no guarantee that I’ll make it to each of them before gravitating back to another.  There are also other bits that get dropped in here and there pretty consistently — old church hymns, worship music, classical music — that don’t register as actual phases.

Right now I’m kind of fixated on free jazz and kozmigroovy stuff, with a hint of experimental/free improv.  Lots of William Parker, Doug Scharin’s groups HiM and Activities of Dust, New Phonic Art, Chicago Underground groups, and other stuff borrowed from the public library.  This jazz phase couldn’t happen at a better time, since I need to promptly finish up the “spacejazz” part of my thesis that discusses Miles Davis’ late 60s/early 70s electric stuff and Herbie Hancock’s “Mwandishi trilogy.”

Hello world!

Welcome to my new blog.  Herein I’ll write about music and library topics that interest me, with occasional forays into the space where the two intersect.  Nothing fancy or clockwork-regular, but hopefully entertaining and occasionally thought-provoking.  Enjoy!