Quantum composition, or the fevered search for an empty computer in the computer lab. An arpeggio, suddenly, yes, or noiselessly, as if in outer space, but actually, it’s the sea, as always, that smells good. Florida + California = librarian jazz. Formulations, or exercises thereof; my PhD diploma hangs on my wall, my friend, near my DVD collection. Not from the mind of a human, but from outside of the self: from an outside source. Allowing musical elements (time, sound) to be introduced into the world of words, i.e. the more we listen to music, the more we analyze it, the more ambiguous it becomes. Scratch that. The rejection of the pastoral, and the embracing of the digital. Or better yet, the digital pastoral aka landscape design, a landscape emptied of its laborers, ready for Instagram. The Musician as Naturalist, aka the collection of specimens, and the testing of the borders, edge conditions, and minor ecologies. An ambient acoustic ecology, too. Musicians shouldn’t just make music for other humans to listen to, but for viruses, trees, armies, jails, planets, computers, and monkeys. Existing in a pseudo-reality of my own means, because I can and want to, and because music is that which when you stop listening to it, doesn’t go away.
More about: Various Artists
