I’ve switched drums – from the djembe to a small panlogo which I play with mallets. My sound is now mid-level and it sticks out like a sore thumb amidst the djembes.

As such, my role in the circle is to fill in notes between the high frequencies of the bell and the low notes of the bass drum to help maintain the pace.

I’m finding playing this drum puts me into a deep-level trance. As I play the same pattern over and over (for 2 hours or so) I feel my consciousness being pulled into the sound I am making and my arms fall instinctively into synchronicity with the pulse. Although I find it hard to write about such an internal experience it is a head-space worth examining.

In the trance state it feels like my body is on automatic pilot. There is a lot less energy going into counting, calculating, executing. It all seems to happen naturally, like someone else has a hold on my mind and body.  And this sometimes feels scary, like I’m out of control.

A strong drummer is able to enter and exit this trance state at will  – to strengthen the beat when it needs strengthening, to resume the trance once the beat is established and to maintain the trance when all other forces are against you – very difficult things to do.

As a relative newcomer to drumming, my untrained mind flits out of the trance only too often to worry about whether or not I’m on the beat.   My goal is to practice being in this trance state as much as possible so once I enter it I am not so easily dislodged.

I would love to have a brain scan done on me while in this trance. I would love to see what aspects of my brain I am accessing and how it changes when I go in and out of trance.  Anyone out there have a spare set of electrodes?

Listening back to all of the song’s versions its surprising how little the current version resembles its original form. When I’ve listened to various evolutions of whale song, the changes seem much more constrained. So why did I make the changes I made? What was the impetus?

First of all, there was dissatisfaction with the original piece. It worked as a piece of music – but only just – and I wasn’t satisfied with its flow and progressions. The mutation from 4/4 to 6/8 happened by accident. I had been playing around with a 6/8 beat and opened up the wrong file to paste it in. By pure happenstance it worked beautifully with the original violin trax I had laid down. I deleted the original rhythmic parts and began adding new ones which fit with the new time signature.

Now that I had a basic structure I could invite others to play on it. Over the course of the summer Kirk added his sonic styling through his bass, Alcvin on his various flutes and Haagen with his electronics. What’s curious to note is that each time we jammed on the song, it was never the same twice.

My current job is to now pick the best trax that we laid down, massage them into a cohesive whole and release the resulting entity to the world to begin its life as a song.  Where it goes, how long it will live, what it might spawn, we’ll have to wait and see….

“Cholewiak noticed two changes in song when humpbacks sang together. Overall, the first singers switched more often among various musical themes when a second singer hung around. Also, the first males adjusted their songs so that the pair was more likely to sing the same theme simultaneously.”

From a musical perspective, does this makes sense to me? Would my musical behavior take the same approach if I was joined by another player?

The first observation, that the initial singer switched more often among musical themes when joined by a second singer, certainly makes sense. You are no longer holding down the themes by yourself – you are now joined by another player and variation becomes more compelling. The challenge of switching, the finesse and skill by which it takes to switch, means that each player’s ability comes to the forefront. Can he catch me? Can he keep up? Can I keep up?

The second observation, that the first singer adjusted his song so the pair was more likely to sing the same theme simultaneously is interesting. My first impulse would be to think that the second singer would adjust his song to fit the first, but upon further thot, I can see that it is more important for the first singer to “rate” the joiner – is he a threat or just a pipsqueak? So the first singer, by adjusting his song to match the second singer, is laying the groundwork to compare apples to apples.

While Cholewiak does not use the term duet – only the author of the article – there are differences to note between this behavior and human musical duets. In a duet, the musical piece is realized by two voices, whereas in the case of the humpbacks, they synchronize their singing. There is no mixing and matching of parts to create the whole.

Is this synchronized singing evidence of musical behavior? More thots on this in a later post

I know scientists are concerned about this effect wrt marine species such as orcas and bird populations that live next to the highway. What happens when you can’t properly communicate your message? Interesting to think about now that I’ve experienced the effect first-hand.

In the land of the laptop things are progressing. I managed to make my first beat and then added an audio track to the mix – which I then proceeded to mangle with a host of plug-ins. Kinda fun I have to admit. Still hate the mouse interface tho. Anyways, here’s a little snippet for your listening pleasure – nothing complete – just a rough mix of an experiment.
[See post to listen to audio]

So…thots? Well I like that everything is perfectly lined up. I like that I can see the pattern clearly. I find it challenging however to create – but that’s probably because my interface at the moment is my mouse (yuck). I’m thinking of hooking up my electribe to my computer so I can program on it and have the data sent directly to my computer. I’ve not been feeling love for my pink machine lately as its sounds aren’t phat out of the box. By using it just as a trigger I can get past that limitation and assign any sound I want. I can also program/play with velocities, accents etc. and then use the onboard computer effects to further morph the sound – all in all pretty cool.

I have to be careful tho how much time I spend learning this new stuff. Even after an hour today my back is hurting (and brain is hurting!!). Sitting at the computer just isn’t my thing. Where’s my balafon?

I also really enjoyed listening to the mayhem late Saturday nite – but from a distance, far away from the source as the sound hit the surrounding mountains. There’s something about the geography of Shambles that takes the sound and lofts it into seeming ancestral voices that swirl around the valley. Pretty cool stuff.

What my body really needed on Saturday nite I was actually able to experience last night at Vieux Farka Toure’s concert – an amazing show of Malian musicians. But place these guys in the forest, would they have been able to compete with the volumes of the other DJ’s? Probably not. So I realize (upon further reflection) that to be in control of a massive beat, playing in front of massive crowds at high volumes, you probably don’t want to open yourself up to that much risk and a laptop pretty much makes sense.

So should I limit myself to other festivals? Nah…The adventurer in me likes going to a variety and seeing what they offer. Komasket was beautiful, peaceful and pleasurable. Entheos was brave and intimate. The Vancouver Folk Festival cozy, like being at home with your best friends (and their drums). Its just time for me to embrace my inner laptop/midi musician and see where it takes me.

First there’s the playing of my instrument – the violin – and all the years I put in to learning its abilities. Second, there’s the programming of gear – learning how to make the sound do what I want it to do when I want to do it – such as creating beats on a drum machine or a patch on a keyboard. Third, there’s the creating music in real time where I am the creator of all sounds and the one in control of them. And fourth is the creating music in real time with other musicians.

This fourth zone for me holds the most risk and the most reward. I have no control over what the other musicians are doing. I can only suggest ideas by sending out particular beats or phrase “codes” but what they add to the mix is up to them. Improvisation within the limits of a structure.

This type of music-making to me is very freeing. The mistakes you make are part of the game, taking you to unexplored areas or relieving you from boredom. Add to the mix a live audience and it feels a little like bungee jumping – scary until you feel the rope at the end of your feet and then you know you can enjoy the bounce.

Kirk and I will be trying out our new material at The Midnight Tea Garden this Saturday. Going to be fun!! Check it out: http://www.mikokuro.com/

Most of my explorations ended up on digital equipment where I could reduce things to numbers and examine their mathematical patterns.  I learned quite a bit by doing this but programming electronics does not feed my soul.  The greatest pleasure for me as a musician is to interact with others, where I open myself up to the risks and rewards of creating in real time.

I have been working with three musicians – Kirk Watson, Alcvin Ramos and Haagen – and have found myself invigorated and challenged as a musician to bring my best to the table. We’ve been jamming and improvising together where nothing is scripted but everything unfolds beautifully. The thrill of interacting with others – of listening and responding, testing my boundaries, taking leaps of faith – is for me the creative adventure of music making.

Music is easy to create if you know and follow the codes. The kicker is it takes a lifetime to learn them. Every day I practice. Today I worked on a track that I thought would be interesting to post a sample of. It is only an exploration of a patch I created. It consists of a sparse bass line and some percussive elements, is 1 bar in pattern length and is tweaked in real time.

The difference between this improvised track and a finished song is in orders of magnitude. There are mistakes or musically undesirable parts to this track. There are boring parts – parts where you wish something might change.  There are also parts which groove where I should have stayed rather than move on. Such is the benefit of hindsight. Once I learn the patch I will be better able to control these elements.

This track may eventually become a component of a song, or it may end up being one of countless explorations that never make it to the light of day. Anyways, thot i would post it for your edification and/or enjoyment
[See post to listen to audio]

Here are two more snippets from explorations from this week:
This one explores filter sweeps.
[See post to listen to audio]

This one explores gating my violin in different patterns
[See post to listen to audio]

Back in the studio tonight, preparing for Shambhala. I’ve been working closely with two amazing musicians, Kirk Watson and Alcvin Ramos, focusing our creative efforts on how best to combine our acoustic instruments (violin, bass, shakuhachi) with technology. We will now be joined by a third amazing musician, live PA artist Haagen who will bring his gear into the mix. Together, we will be exploring the creation of human music.

Working with these fellow musicians has definitely broadened my horizons in terms of understanding music. First and foremost they release me from playing every role in the creation of a song. I can better concentrate on specific aspects of sound. I can take time to listen to what’s evolving outside the realm of my own creation. I can rest, recharge and wait for musical inspiration to hit.

The communication that is created between musicians is one of the most intriguing features of music. How do we know what to play and when to play it? What are the cues we are listening for? Why do we have these cues and where do they come from? Is music an innate language or one that we learn as we grow as musicians?