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microsonic materialism



At 2:11 PM -0800 3/25/00, Kenric McDowell wrote:
zeitgeist...?

Certainly, and I think the spirit of this time would be in part one of machine fetishism: the machine as a generator of value (returning to dialectical materialism), as an enhancer of desirability, as an all-encompassing activity, as a lifestyle, as a politics, as a religion, and as an organizing interpretive figuration. A zeitgeist I would see as all-pervading, in the air as it were and underlying all acts of consciousness, and here I have had the interesting experience recently of self-conscious glitchery: while listening to Stars of the Lid's "Avec Laudanum" last evening at very low volume, its sonic swells overlapped with the rhythmic clicking of the CD player's pickup, whose noises were intended to prevent mistracking and subsequent glitching yet added a new layer of not necessarily complementary sound to the melodic drones of the album, like a stoned drumcircle shrunken to rodent size outside of a Morton Feldman performance, as if the machine had its own Gould-mumbling interpretive idiosyncrasies in its rendition of analog guitar drone work. It is interesting also to note that what we now describe as the "glitch" (oh Coil, what hast thou wrought?) is a digital phenomenon, and that digital phenomenon allow binary possibilities of working/not-working rather than the analog continuum of semi-brokenness, where one might locate scratching (or for that matter the prepared piano or Gyorgi Ligeti's turned-off organs) as nonbinary glitching. And then there are the more subversive examples of unself-conscious glitchery, for example: several years ago while standing between the two towers of what was the Chevron headquarters on Market Street in San Francisco waiting for a late friend to appear for a lunchtime excursion, I noticed that the muzak playing in the plaza between the two buildings was alternating between the expected narcosis of GRP lite-jazz vapidity and violent bursts of tempo discontinuity in which all of the players hammered out machinegun downbeats in superhuman unison; I wondered to myself - as passersby swam about obliviously - has muzak become dangerous? is Naked City working as an elevator music group in some bizarre joke? before at last realizing that the CD-player had been skipping and had transformed mind-numbing sonic syrup into crazed scronk with no notice taken by most of those grazed in the assault. Here the unfetishized and undesired glitch participates in a very different aspect of the materialist activity - the dereification of music as a reliable emotionally-controlling device and its recontextualization as an unpredictable agent of confusion.


np - So Takahashi "Nubus"
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