Thoughts on Listening
I am not a quick study when it comes to music. I often describe myself as an eternal student of the craft and spend time every day learning new concepts and getting them under my fingers. It usually takes a year or longer before a concept percolates into my playing.
How that applies to listening to music is that I am by and large not a rabid consumer of new music. When someone recommends an album to me by an artist I don’t know, it takes me a long time to discover what makes that album and the artist tick. If I decide I like it enough to really “take on” an album, that usually translates to hours of deep listening, sometimes study and even possibly a transcription of a tune or part of the solo. In short, I am anything but a passive listener.
This has its advantages and disadvantages. The obvious advantages are, by going deeper into a smaller number of new albums, I gain a deeper understanding of what’s really going on in the music, which greatly enhances my listening enjoyment. For me, listening is a very active thing, and it requires the attention of both my intellect and my emotions. Because after all, on a certain level, what is music, if not mathematics invested with human emotions? In my view, the best music is a balanced amalgam of the two.
The disadvantages are obvious: I don’t seem to have nearly the ability to absorb a large volume of new music as I once did; I honestly envy those who do. I have a friend who used to be the editor of and a contributing reviewer for a prominent audiophile magazine. We recently had a discussion on this very subject and here are his thoughts: “Yes, I’m one of those friends of yours who does NOT listen to a new and much-loved album over and over. I am very chary of overexposing myself to stuff I love and wearing out my appreciation of it. This has the odd result of my greatly loving many recordings without actually knowing them very well. I was sort of naturally bent this way anyway, in a sort of default asceticism, but then my work at (name of magazine) pretty much demanded it. I couldn’t linger. Had to keep listening to, or at least sampling, new disc after new disc after new disc.”
I have another friend who owns around 8000 CDs and thousands of downloads. He recently sent me a large volume memory stick filled with hundreds of his favorite things. He is one of the most eclectic music lovers I have ever met. In this “trove” as he likes to call it, is a hefty collection of classical (he was once a classical radio DJ,) jazz spanning many decades and sub genres, folk, world, esoteric pop and experimental recordings which don’t really neatly fit a category, all of which would take hundreds of hours to sample, much less listen through. There are a lot of wonderful things in there. Of these, I recognize a good portion of the artists and composers, but many are unknown to me. It’s frankly overwhelming. Sometimes I’ll make a coffee in the morning and randomly play something by an artist I’ve never heard of, having no idea what to expect. Yet several months after the memory stick arrived, I have barely scratched the surface.
I’m not sure there’s a point to any of this. I have a couple thousand CDs and a few hundred vinyl albums. I also have a growing collection of multichannel SACDs, DVD Audio and Blu-ray audio discs, and literally hundreds of quad releases which have been generously shared with me over the years. Not to mention a burgeoning collection of HD audio files. In all honesty, It’s all probably more than enough to keep me going for the rest of my life.
Do I Need more new music? Probably not, yet I subscribe to Qobuz and still listen to new things every so often, but not nearly with the frequency I used to. Is it age? I don’t know. An old Far Side cartoon comes to mind. The scene is a classroom and in the front of the room is a kid with a noticeably small head, his hand raised. The caption reads, “Mr Osborne, may I be excused? My brain is full.”
That’s me in a nutshell.
7 Kommentare
flowworker
Absolutely understandable. In my 30 plus years of music journalism, I was surely not living with so many records than I was used to in my young years. But with a decent amount of these absolutely beloved records I suceeded . They got close, very close, time and time again. A lot of them were only visited every once in a while and then turned into warm memories. So I tried to find a balance. Over the years. Now i am more and more ready for my essential stuff. And every once in a while something’s new crossing my way that will stay forever in my endlessly numbered days. Like Beth Gibbons‘ Lives Outgrown. (m.e.)
Olaf Westfeld
Thanks, very interesting thoughts&oberservations.
I find it quite interesting how long a record stays on my turntable, how it then somehow vanishes into my collection and if it returns or not. Sometimes – even after the first enthusiam – one record does not get more than 2 or 3 spins – and sometimes I am initially more reserved about another one, but somehow that music stays longer with me.
radiohoerer
That’s very interesting to read. I do believe that it has all stuck with me somehow. I was listening to Genesis‘ “Lamb lies…” in the car the other day and I could still sing along to the beginning. I probably feel the same way about many others from that time. And that was a very long time ago. I don’t want to give any numbers here, it doesn’t really matter. Just like the fact whether the music is available as a record, CD, cassette or digitally. It’s the music that’s important, isn’t it? I couldn’t care less about the feel of it. I’m always surprised by new musicians and their music. I hear some of it several times. On the other hand, I quickly press the delete key. The amount of music that comes out is insane, not to mention the reissues. It’s hard to keep track of it all. In the end, I go through all the releases that are coming out in the next few months and listen to them to filter out the interesting ones. Everything else falls through. And then there are always glimpses back. Music that will probably stay with me for life. I can linger in it and become aware of time. But I also know people who still listen to Led Zeppelin and that’s enough for them. It’s very diverse and the possibilities are amazing.
radiohoerer
…. There is one more thing I forgot to mention. Despite all the music I know, I am still curious and excited about what is coming next, what discovery I will still make.
Henning Bolte
Thanks for this contribution with a precious ariculatuion on the inner side of music reception! It had a strong triggering effect.
Discovery of and searching for music changes on on our life path along different eras and circumstances. In my rememberance in the beginning it was discovery a in wide open landscape with special paths and tracks. Nowadays it takes place in a hyperbusy urban mega-city landscape where musical things and events tumble over each other amplified by a violently increasing heavy pr-barrage (PR-Sperrfeuer). Also, the delta of styles, approaches and scenes multiplies incredibly and produces a dizzying oversupply. From that in highly individual manner we build our own musical palace, log cabin or caravan.
Personally i am primarily focused on the rich world of the manifold live music events in my hometown Amsterdam (plus festivals i visit) which includes social interaction and exchange in club atmosphere with other visitors and musicians (or (writer colleagues, photographers, programmers). It is a different experience from listening at home in your own holy grail. Different flow rate, different sensations, different inner burning, different ashes. As a consequence i listen less and different to recorded music. I’d like to reflect on that soon a bit more.
Music exists in the universe and in each of us. It needs the live performance to be enacted and to catch fire. Club life and its audiences keep the music and musicians burning. And, the younger generation here in Amsterdam burns, bursts and brews. It’s an essential, shifting experience. More later!
The last two months I was a bit abstinent from live music . I ‚only‘ attended the Prequel of The Monheim Triennale and concerts of Sylvie Courvoisier’s wonderful group Chimaera, the group of my cherished drummer Sun-Mi Hong, my beloved vocalist Sanem Kalfa with her wild group Televizyon and three seasoned masters (alte Hasen), cellist Ernst Reijseger, pianist Harmen Fraanje and vocalist Mola Sylla. Reijseger is Werner Herzog’s filmcomponist and ECM just released an album of Harmen Fraanje’s duo with Arve Henriksen. It’s all musicians I have experienced in a lot of live contexts, talks and hangs.
Music comes forth from a greater number of creational, securing, preparing, executing, producing and caring activities. I was always interested and involved in that side of the music. Hence I have almost daily contact with musicians on these aspects of music making. It is a rich and dangerous field too.
Last month I listened to a series of old favorite records of mine. Some return again and again and still astonish me in the light of today. A little sample I will present in another contribution here. What this time struck me most was the DIRECTNESS of that older music as a main characteristic compared by much recent musics. More about that also later und über das, was sich festsetzt und wie’s geschieht.
Brian Whistler
Thanks for all your fascinating comments. To Hening Bolte, I too seem to lean into live performances for musical sustenance lately, for the same reasons you have given here. I enjoy the spontaneity, and I also love the camaraderie and social aspects. For instance, when I go to the 222, a thriving community supported performance space in Healdsburg, California, I get to see world class musicians of various backgrounds, jazz, classical, etc not to mention top notch dance and theater performances in my backyard so to speak.
Rather than drive an hour and a half (by the time I’ve parked anyway,) to San Francisco, I can drive 20 minutes and see an equivalent show. I also enjoy seeing some of the same people in the arts community supporting these shows. Also, one often gets access to the artists in this relatively small venue, who come into the lobby and sign records or just want to talk. Whereas at SF jazz, for instance, it is quite rare for the artist to come out into the lobby after the shows. And most importantly, there is just something very special about being at a live performance, especially when it focuses on improvisation, well, you know you’re going to hear something that can only unfold in the present moment.
radiohoerer
That is also an important area, of course. Going to jazz concerts and talking to the musicians.
Of course, the clubs in Chemnitz, Jena, Leipzig, etc. are very important to me for this. In this small, intimate setting, talking to them is something very normal for me.
Be it with Ken Vandermark, with whom I talked about his Japan-Box. And he writes beautifully.
Or the other day, the conversation with the Silke Eberhart Trio, whom I talked to last year in Chemnitz.
It is quite possible that there will be a sequel to the Charles Mingus programme.
I have always found that musicians appreciate the conversation when they feel a genuine interest.
It is an exchange that is important for both sides.