It is true that perhaps some of my arguments were not expressed clearly enough since some of the critical remarks stemmed from an interpretation that did not correspond with what I intended to say. A reader of the forum “Progressive Ears” who came out in my defense, wrote a clarification that is useful to summarize some of the main ideas in my first article. Its author, John Hagelbarger, who writes under the pseudonym of “baribrotzer,” explained:

Indeed, if someone understood that I was stating that, for example, “Close to the Edge” is classical music, then my writing was not sufficiently clear… What I meant, and reaffirm, is that “Close to the Edge” has more in common with a classical music piece than with a rock song. Not only due to its structure, but because this work, as well as many that belong to the classical music genre, is located in the sphere of high artistic music.

You may remember that the first version of this article had its origin in the comments that I made about an article by Kelefa Sanneh published by the magazine The New Yorker in June 2017. My article revolved around the current state of our cherised genre, and brought forth the idea, previously developed in my article “Progressive Rock – a Misleading Tag”, that the term “rock” was not adequate to label this genre. I proposed an alternative: “Neo-Baroque Music”.

In the first version of the article I spoke about the past and present of the genre. In this second version (or rather, second part) I want to talk about the future. As a starting point, I will use a paper written by our collaborator Carlos Romeo Puolakka (author of the excellent article “About Starless” published in issue 5 of the magazine – March 2017). Carlos wrote the article that I’m about to quote from, in issue #7 of a magazine called “Mellotron”. I want to highlight the fact that these lines were written in 1999! I will mark in bold some of the ideas that I will use to develop my argument:

I want to highlight this idea from Carlos Romeo: Progressive rock is not rock anymore. This is a very interesting idea that is in contrast with my thesis. I support the idea that progressive rock was never rock, even though those who started the genre (safe exceptions like Robert Fripp) were not aware of it. Carlos believes that, if progressive rock was ever rock, or emerged from rock, it currently does not form part of it.

However, Carlos’ orientation is particularly useful when we look into the future. What is important here is not to debate whether progressive was ever rock; now, what we need is to understand the essence of this genre nowadays and try to understand where it can lead to in the future.

But before we talk about the future of our precious genre, I want to gain momentum by making a last incursion into the past. One of the main sources that I used for the analysis of “Karn Evil 9” was the excellent and extended book by Edward Macan “Endless Enigma.” In this book, there is a very interesting section in chapter 10 (“Welcome back my Friends…): “A Critique of the Blues Orthodoxy Ideology.” (Macan, 2006, pp. 336–49).

According to Macan, the critics Lester Bangs and Robert Christgaus, who wrote for the North-American magazines “Creem” and “Rolling Stone,” led a radical orthodox movement that, towards the late 70’s, was able to establish a hegemonic thought trend about what is and what is not rock, that persists today. In essence, they support an argument based in the idea of Rousseau’s “noble savage.” Citing Macan:

This idea, taken to its extreme, implies that, for an artistic manifestation to be honest and legitimate, it must be primitive, natural and spontaneous.

They support the idea that rock must remain pure, spontaneous, and simple. As a logical consequence, for them progressive rock was some sort of tumor that threatened the fundamentals of the genre and was to be removed without mercy.

Here’s how Macan explains it:

In my opinion, the mistake that Macan makes is that he tries to dismantle the arguments of the “blues orthodoxists” by demonstrating that progressive music did not betray the basic precepts of rock, but contributed elements of all kinds (melodic, harmonic, timbre, rhythmic, technological, etc.) that enriched it. His argument is very weak:

Macan cites some examples:

Why didn’t this happen with progressive rock? In other words, why is it that today, more than half a century after the creation of the genre, progressive is not considered to have enriched the language of rock? Macan’s argument, I insist, is extremely weak:

His argumentation is weak because one thing is to accept or not influences of any type based on how they affect the genre, and something very different is to reject an influence because it implies a transformation of the recipient genre; in other words, it implies a destructive influence.

Let me explain myself: if Gershwin had tried to modify the American music theater by incorporating prolonged fragments of silence instead of a different harmonic language, surely the assessment of his work would now be very different and its effect on the American music theater would have been nil.

If, when incorporating elements to something, that something is no longer essentially what it was, then we are not talking about a modification or an evolution, but rather the creation of something new. A transformation.

Actually, progressive music did not incorporate elements to rock; what happened was exactly the opposite: during the birth of progressive music as a new genre, it took elements from rock as one of its main references.

This Copernican Shift is the essence of the message that I want to convey in this article. Since I have been misinterpreted in the past, I want to explain this concept again using a different wording:

Progressive music is a genre that feeds from many sources including, among them, rock. Progressive music cannot be defined as a subset of rock because it has characteristics that are not part of this genre.

If we accept this as a fundamental premise, then from that perspective we can analyze why progressive music is still a marginal genre.

Viewed from this angle, we can easily see why this genre was, is, and will always be attacked by supporters of “pure rock”. It provides a perfectly understandable explanation. The error has been, for many years, the attempt to fit a square into a circle.

Progressive music, in line with its “Neo-baroque” character that tends to incorporate all sorts of styles and music genres, has generated throughout all these years a vast compendium of music that has been the subject of different classification attempts. There are progressive bands that come very close to rock, to the point of becoming “almost” an expression of rock, but with some elements of progressive as for example the development of thematic material. Others come close to folk, others to classical contemporary music, others to jazz. And, naturally, progressive music lovers approach bands whose aesthetics are akin to their tastes and see progressive music from that perspective. Therefore, my reasoning can be better understood by followers of bands like Aranis or Univers Zero, and be seen as an aberration for those who love Marillion or Dream Theatre. Then we have the more eclectic listeners, that enjoy King Crimson, Magma, IQ, Soft Machine, etc. They, who are essentially “neo-baroque”, are omnivorous; their music taste goes beyond the limits of progressive and include other genres like classical music, jazz, traditional rock, among others. I’m curious to see how these fans would respond to my argument.

Perhaps it could be argued that progressive music, being so extremely eclectic, should not be considered a genre in itself. We could fragment it and include its pieces in the existing genres where they best fit. So, for example, we could place Aranis under contemporary classical music, Soft Machine as jazz with rock influences, IQ as some sort of “sophisticated rock”. In other words, we could slice up this thing that we call progressive, let each genre take its share, and end of story. Fortunately, there are many works that would not fit into any other genre and are, in my opinion, excellent examples that justify the need to consider progressive music as a full-fledged genre, at the same level as rock, classical music or jazz.

Let’s take for example, “Close to the Edge.” What do we do with this album? It is difficult to refute the argument that this work is closer to classical music than rock. But, would it ever be considered by musicologists as an expression of contemporary classical music? I don’t think so. And how about rock? If, after 45 years, it continues to be reviled by the most purist critics of rock, and is still considered an aberration, I doubt that this situation will change in the future.

The same could be said about an enormous quantity of works published since the late 60’s until our current days. Those works are, in my opinion, the most representative of the progressive genre and the ones that justify the existence of a specific genre. Therefore, to analyze the situation of this genre and try to elucidate its future, I ask that we focus on these types of work. In other words, let’s not use as point of reference those bands that, while still being considered progressive, situate themselves in the outer limits of the genre and are strongly attracted by the gravitational pull of other genres. So, let’s take as a reference for this discussion bands that we can consider at the “center” of progressive and reasonably equidistant to other genres. To clarify what we are talking about, let’s put some examples: King Crimson, Magma, albums from the classic period of bands like Yes, ELP, and Genesis, or Gentle Giant. I’m choosing examples that we are all familiar with; there are many others bands which are probably even more fitting. But the general idea is understood: these music projects feed from different sources but have their own identity and do not fit into any of the traditional genres.

Having reached this point, let’s see if we are capable of understanding what the future holds for this genre. The first problem that we need to confront is the effect of bands located in the perimeter that, in spite of still being progressive, distort our understanding of the nature of this genre. Lovers of bands close to the orbit of rock, adopt and expect behaviors typical of this genre. So, it is expected that these bands will compete with rock bands, are played in rock radio stations, earn a living thanks to effective merchandising strategies (not by selling their music), dress and behave like rock stars, and have a relevant presence in the specialized media. Of course, none of this happens (because what they play, in essence, is not rock) and this produces a permanent frustration: “nobody understands us, no one supports us, we will never be but a marginal sub-genre of rock.” I have chosen this group very deliberately, because it represents a huge amount of what fits into the progressive: not only fans, but bands themselves. As I have stated in previous articles, progressive music is the perfect vehicle for musicians that feel limited within rock and pop. It offers them the possibility of developing their potential as musicians because they can improve their skills as performers, play long and elaborate solos, and rely on public willing to run the extra mile to understand and enjoy their work. The result is that supply and demand are wildly uncompensated: too many bands for such a reduced number of fans. Although I have addressed this situation in previous articles, I want to insist: this leads to an unsustainable model, where a handful of fans are spread across a great number of bands, making each band economically unviable.

The biggest challenge to get our genre out of this stale situation is to change the way in which all of us, musicians and fans, interact with the rest of the world. The first and most difficult thing is to project a clear and coherent idea of what this genre is, and what it is not. This is why it is so crucial to be able to explain this phenomenon to ourselves first. Because if within the genre we are not capable of understanding its vital nature, and to reach a consensus, it will be impossible to light the spark of change.

If we were able to go beyond the first stage, which is understanding, and reach the second one which is assimilation, then we would start to see behavioral changes that will affect our relationship with the environment. And we will be able to analyze and take advantage of what is done in other genres to face problems similar to the ones that we have (and which rock doesn’t have). For example, in classical music and in jazz, there is the challenge of attracting young audiences; to nurture future generations of followers. How do they do that? Instead of using strategies that are adequate for rock and commercial music, we should study the strategies used within these genres, that have been assimilating for many years the technological changes that have so profoundly affected the way in which humans interact with music. It is true that both genres have been impacted by piracy, but I suspect that probably the impact has been less than the one suffered by progressive bands. Since rock is a popular expression that is still marketable, it has found other resources like merchandising in order to fight piracy. But these strategies are not valid for progressive music because it is not a marketable genre.

One of the important sources used by classical music and jazz to “renovate their blood,” is the academic world. Conservatories are incubators where a lot of young people are trained in the complex art of understanding and appreciating artistic music. The same applies to universities and that is why it is so frequent to find programs specialized in these genres in university radios. Another important difference is the radically different approach when promoting concerts and festivals. Many are held in theaters, but there are also open-air festivals or in venues similar to those used in rock festivals. But there is a key difference: rock festivals promote themselves as entertainment events in which, for example, alcohol becomes an indispensable complement. Jazz and classical music festivals are promoted as cultural events. The way in which progressive music approaches festivals is another good example of its lack of identity. A few festivals are promoted as cultural events, but the majority just copy the approach of rock festivals.

Making an exhaustive development of the actions needed to transform the current state of progressive music would turn this article into a book and it is not the purpose of this paper. I have barely scratched the surface in terms of possible initiatives to give a new and definitive impulse that leads progressive music to levels of recognition and diffusion consistent with the excellent quality of its works. My contribution at this moment is to help understand the true nature of the genre, because only then can we intelligently address the different obstacles that we have to overcome.

If I have been able to convince you that:

• progressive music is not a sub-genre of rock (or any other genre)
• is an expression closer to “high” art than to popular art
• requires intellectual effort in order to be appreciated and, in that sense, has more in common with artistic music than with popular music

then I will have reached the objective of this article.

Perhaps this is why, intuitively, terms like “Art Rock” or “Art Music” to describe this genre have become increasingly popular.

It would be enormously gratifying for me that others would take this reflection as a starting point to promote a change of attitude among fans of this genre. This could constitute a Copernican Shift that, once started, may generate a spontaneous movement that could expand well beyond us and produce multiple initiatives and ideas for the benefit of the progressive genre.

Credits

I have used multiple quotes taken from the excellent book “Endless Enigma” written by Edward Macan – Open Court Publishing Company, 2006. The book features an exhaustive analysis of Emerson Lake & Palmer from many points of view, including the historical framework, which I have found very useful for the development of this article. It can be purchased here.

Prog collage image taken from a ProgArchives Forum thread, related to a survey of the top 5 concept albums. Here’s the link:

http://www.progarchives.com/forum/forum_posts.asp?TID=89336&PN=2

The influence of mythology in progressive rock (Neo-Baroque Music as I prefer to call it – see my article on the current state of prog: Is Prog Alive and Well? ) is very profound. Bands in all eras, styles, and countries have resorted to mythological stories or characters as a basis for their compositions. In some cases, the whole body of work is based on the musical representation of mythological stories or characters. Usually, this representation is reflected in the lyrics, but there are exceptional examples where only music is used to make a description. The first example, is one of my favorite works by Emerson, Lake and Palmer:

The Three Fates – Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos

In Greek Mythology, these Fates were referred to as the “Morai”. They represented three stages in the life of men:

• Clotho (the spinner) represents the thread of life. She spins and creates the fabric that represents one’s physical incarnation.
• Lachesis (the allotter) with her measuring rod, determined the length of the fabric, that is, the amount of life allotted to the person. It also exemplified chance – the events of life that were not predetermined.
• Atropos (the inexorable) – she cuts the fabric, thus terminating one’s physical life.

The three Moirai
By Johann Gottfried Schadow – Own work (own photograph), Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2122291

Hekate and the Moirai (The Night of Enitharmon’s Joy), Tate Gallery
By William Blake – The Yorck Project: 10.000 Meisterwerke der Malerei. DVD-ROM, 2002. ISBN 3936122202. Distributed by DIRECTMEDIA Publishing GmbH., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=147898

These fates are not attached to specific legends or stories, but are rather a metaphysical representation of the world.

Edward Macan, in his book “Endless Enigma”, makes a fascinating interpretation of this piece:

This theme – technology vs. humanity – is recurrent in the works of ELP, as we already saw in the analysis of Tarkus and as we will see in the analysis of “Karn Evil 9” scheduled for publication in February 2018.

Edward Macan also points out an interesting parallelism with the evolution of Western Music. Clotho, at the beginning of life, is represented by a pseudo-medieval organum. Lachesis, the evolution of life, is represented by a piece inspired in Lisztian romanticism. Atropos, the death of tonality, represented by a Bartókian modernist piece.

The organ in The Three Fates was recorded at the Royal Festival Hall pipe organ.

Here is the studio version of The Three Fates:

Genesis has numerous references to mythological stories and characters. Let’s start with:

Tiresias

You may recall this fragment in the lyrics of “Cinema Show”:

Take a little trip back with father Tiresias,
Listen to the old one speak of all he has lived through.
I have crossed between the poles, for me there’s no mystery.
Once a man, like the sea I raged,
Once a woman, like the earth I gave.
But there is in fact more earth than sea.

What is the meaning of the phrase “But there is in fact more earth than sea?

Tiresias was one of the most famous prophets in Greek mythology, together with Calcas. He was blinded by Hera. Here’s the story:

Tiresias found two serpents mating. He separated them by killing the female serpent with his stick. Hera was displeased and turned Tiresias into a woman. He became priestess of Hera, and even got married and had children. Seven years later, he saw again serpents copulating and this time killed the male serpent with his stick. In doing this, he regained his masculinity.

Because of his experience of having lived in the two sexes, Zeus and Hera asked him to arbitrate in a discussion about what gender experiments more sexual pleasure. When Tiresias replied that men only experiment a tenth of the pleasure of women, Hera, outraged because he revealed her secret, punished him by turning him blind. Zeus gave him the gifts of clairvoyance and a long life.

Tiresias appears to Odysseus during the nekyia of Odyssey xi, in this watercolor with tempera by the Anglo-Swiss Johann Heinrich Füssli, c. 1780-85.
By Henry Fuseli – The Yorck Project: 10.000 Meisterwerke der Malerei. DVD-ROM, 2002. ISBN 3936122202. Distributed by DIRECTMEDIA Publishing GmbH., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=151197

The Fountain of Salmacis

This beautiful song, from the album “Nursery Crime”, describes the story about how the son of Hermes and Aphrodite became half-man, half-women.

This is the legend:

Salmacis is the name of a spring located near the ancient Mausoleum of Halicarnassus, and it is now a tourist attraction located in present-day Bodrum, Turkey.

It is named after an atypical nymph, who was a naiad nymph. Naiads must live close to sources of water (springs, lakes, rivers); otherwise, they dry and die like a plant.

The virgin Goddess Artemis had a cortege of 20 Naiads, one of whom was Salmacis. She was lazy, unconcerned, self-centered and did not comply with the rules.

On the other hand, Hermaphrodite was the son of Hermes and Aphrodite, who lived in the mountain of Ide. At the age of 15, he decided to travel the world and, upon arriving to the spring where Salmacis dwelled, he decided to take a bath and took off his clothes.

Salmacis fell in love immediately and jumped over him. He tried to escape but Salmacis raped him and forced him into the lake. While embracing Hermaphrodite, she asked the gods that they never be separated again. The gods answered her plea and merged both bodies.

Hermaphrodite cursed the lake so that any men who touched those waters followed his fate….

The Nymph Salmacis and Hermaphroditus by François-Joseph Navez (1829)
By François-Joseph Navez – Web Gallery of Art: Image Info about artwork, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4969478

Yes – “Turn of the Century”

This song is based in the well-known myth of Pygmalion and Galatea. This description that follows, is taken from here:

In Ovid’s narrative, Pygmalion was a Cypriot sculptor who carved a woman out of ivory. According to Ovid, after seeing the Propoetides prostituting themselves he was “not interested in women”, but his statue was so beautiful and realistic that he fell in love with it.

In time, Aphrodite’s festival day came, and Pygmalion made offerings at the altar of Aphrodite. There, too scared to admit his desire, he quietly wished for a bride who would be “the living likeness of my ivory girl.” When he returned home, he kissed his ivory statue, and found that its lips felt warm. He kissed it again, and found that the ivory had lost its hardness. Aphrodite had granted Pygmalion’s wish.

Pygmalion married the ivory sculpture changed to a woman under Aphrodite’s blessing. In Ovid’s narrative, they had a daughter, Paphos, from whom the city’s name is derived.

Jon Anderson wrote a story that parallels this myth: it tells the story of the sculptor Roan who, in the grief of his wife’s death, “molds his passion into clay.” The sculpture of his wife comes to life and they fall in love.

This video of “Turn of the Century” describes the story:

King Crimson – “Formentera Lady”

The lyrics to the song, written by Robert Fripp and Peter Sinfield, include an explicit reference to Odysseus’ encounter with Circe:

Here Odysseus charmed for dark Circe fell,
Still her perfume lingers still her spell.

This is the story:

Circe was a minor goddess of magic in Greek mythology, daughter of the Titans Helios, god of the sun, and Perse, an Oceanid.

She is best known for her role in Homer’s Odyssey. During their adventures towards Ithaca, Odysseus and his companions reached the island of Ea, where the residence of Circe was. She invited them all to a grand feast, which a lot of Odysseus’ companions attended but not him. At the feast, one of the dishes was laced with a magical potion; when Odysseus’ companions ate it, Circe made a quick move with her wand and turned them into pigs and other animals, according to their real character. Only one of the companions escaped unharmed and informed Odysseus. The hero, after taking advice from Hermes, protected himself from the spell by using a holy herb, and managed to befriend Circe and save his companions.

Odysseus stayed with Circe for a year of pleasures (only a month according to others), but never forgot Penelope.

It is possible that the island of Ea, where Circe’s Palace is located, could correspond to an island in the Balearic archipelago. This is why Circe is referred to in the song as the “Formentera Lady”. As a curiosity, the Balearic Islands host a rare species called Ibizan Wall Lizard that is referenced in the lyrics:

Dusty wheels leaning rusty in the sun;
Snuff brown walls where Spanish lizards run

Circe offering the cup to Odysseus. Painting by John William Waterhouse Oldham Art Gallery
http://moontale.egloos.com/865206, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=426808

Pink Floyd – Sysyphus

This piece forms part of the double album Ummagumma that features solo pieces by band members. Sysyphus was written and performed by Richard Wright. As with ELP’s “The Three Fates”, it is another fine example where only music is used to describe the myth.

The name “Sysyphus” refers to “Sisyphus”, the Greek mythological hero who tried to cheat death by imprisoning Thanatos himself, only to be sentenced to eternal torture in hell: his punishment is to roll a boulder up a mountainside only for it to fall back down and starting over forever.

This instrumental piece is divided in four parts. I found this accurate description of how the myth is represented musically by Wright, credited to “Astrobreaker” in YouTube:

With this description in mind, let’s listen to this interesting piece:

Renaissance – “Midas Man”

I will finish this first incursion into the world of mythology in progressive rock with Renaissance’s interpretation of the most famous myth of all: The Midas King who turned everything he touched into gold.

This is the story, which you can also read here:

In Greek mythology, Midas was the name of a king in the region of Phrygia in Anatolia, modern-day Turkey. According to the myth, the god Dionysus was trying to find his teacher, the satyr Silenus, who had gone missing after drinking too much wine and wandered off. Silenus was found by the men of Midas, who brought him to the king; Midas recognized him and offered his hospitality for ten days, before taking him back to the region of Lydia, where Dionysus was. The god was so happy that he told Midas he would fulfill one wish for him. Midas asked that everything he touched would become gold, and Dionysus kindly granted the wish.

Midas was particularly excited with his new power and started turning trees and rocks into gold, on his way back home. When he reached his palace, he asked his servants to prepare a grand feast, but to his despair, he soon realized that the food he touched also turned into gold and would soon die of starvation. Even his daughter turned into gold when she greeted her father. Midas, realizing that his wish was actually foolish, prayed to Dionysus, who told him to wash in the river Pactolus; everything he would place in the river after that would also turn back to normal. Midas went straight to the river and felt his powers leave him and flow into the waters. In fact, the sands of the river turned gold, explaining the rich minerals that were found in the river by the ancient inhabitants of the area. Midas, relieved of his bane, decided to deny all riches and retreated to the countryside and became a follower of the god Pan.

Midas’s daughter turns to a golden statue when he touches her.
Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7397327

This video includes the lyrics of the song. Enjoy.

I invite you to take a few minutes to read Sanneh’s article. What follows will make more sense if you do.

I wrote a comment about this article in Phaedrus’ Facebook page. It was a reflection on the fact that we are living the “era of misinformation” as a consequence of excess of information. The article presents a distorted picture of the genre, since any analysis that does not take into account the vast amount of music written since the 90’s is, by default, inaccurate and incomplete.

Sanneh’s article however, is extremely useful for the debate that I’m about to stir-up. Progressive Rock is obviously alive. This is an undeniable fact when you see not just tenths but hundreds of albums published every year, some of which continue to expand the aesthetic boundaries of the genre. However, I cannot say that Progressive Rock is in good health. There is an enormous problem in terms of identity and attitude and until these issues are addressed, this genre will continue to have a modest (and undervalued) place in music.

Identity

In the early seventies, it was understandable that the musicians who created the genre didn’t know exactly what they were doing. One of the few exceptions is Jon Anderson, who referred to Progressive Rock (and I get this quote from Mr. Sanneh’s article) as “a higher art form”.

And yes, this is exactly what Progressive Rock is: A high form of art.

Unfortunately this fact, over forty years later, is still not clear. This genre adopted much of the approach and ways of a popular music expression known as Rock & Roll, which is the antithesis of what “high art” (as opposed to popular art) is. And progressive rock is a high form of artistic music. Some Prog Rock icons have come to terms with this in the past few years. One of the most dramatic cases is Keith Emerson. Just a couple of days ago, his son Aaron unveiled Keith’s gravestone. It says:

Keith Noel Emerson

1944 – 2016

Composer

It doesn’t say “keyboard virtuoso,” or “keyboard player and composer.” This is no coincidence. In fact, his girlfriend Mari Kawaguchi in a post after Keith’s death said he had mentioned to her several times that he wanted to be remembered as a composer. Not as an extravagant rock keyboard virtuoso.

If Emerson had been given a second chance with the insight that he developed throughout the years, he would probably not invest so much time sticking knifes into an organ or playing around with a synthesizer stick. At the end of his life, he understood that his compositions were his most valuable achievements. That works like Karn Evil 9 or Tarkus, deserved better recognition.

The first thing we need to consider in this “Identity” debate is whether Progressive Rock is, or isn’t rock. Well, my opinion, as you might have already guessed, is a categorical NO.

The main reason why Progressive Rock has been repudiated by critics for so many years, is precisely this. If you evaluate a pair of scissors based on its capacity to hold water, what would you say?

Prog musicians in the 70’s wanted to be rock stars. Record companies marketed their music as rock, and tried to make a square fit in a circle. Guess what: they couldn’t. As soon as the genre started to lose its inertia, they immediately turned their backs. And it’s perfectly understandable because this genre, as far as rock is concerned, sucks.

These misplaced artists, and all the prog community, were immediately labeled as nerds.

Even if you don’t agree with me, consider for a moment that we are not talking about rock. Let’s change progressive rock by classical music.

Now let’s re-interpret some statements in Sanneh’s New Yorker article:

“a genre intent on proving that rock and roll didn’t have to be simple and silly—it could be complicated and silly instead.”

A genre intent on proving that baroque music didn’t have to be simple and silly – it could be complicated and silly instead. If you don’t believe this, just look at the complexity of the works written by the silliest composers of all: Johann Sebastian Bach.

“The prog-rock pioneers embraced extravagance: odd instruments and fantastical lyrics, complex compositions and abstruse concept albums, flashy solos and flashier live shows.”

Let’s take for example, the Wagner operas. Can anyone tell me who would like to be 4 hours trapped in this absurd exercise of ego empowerment?

“In the story of popular music, as conventionally told, progressive rock was at best a dead end, and at worst an embarrassment, and a warning to future musical generations: don’t get carried away.”

Hey Mr. Debussy: “Don’t get carried away”! This is a warning to future generations, especially members of the Second Vienna School and future composers like Ginastera or Stravinsky.

“The collapse of prog helped reaffirm the dominant narrative of rock and roll: that pretension was the enemy; that virtuosity could be an impediment to honest self-expression; that ‘self-taught’ was generally preferable to ‘classically trained.'”

Mr. Rubinstein, your virtuosity as a pianist is an impediment to honest self-expression. You would have been better off if you had been self-trained.

I could continue with more quotes, turning the article into something hilarious in the eyes of a classical music lover. The article would have been dismissed as a piece of trash.

So, even if you don’t agree that Progressive Music is not rock, I hope at least you see the consequences of mislabeling the genre.

If you found any of my reinterpretations of the quotes laughable, then you agree that progressive rock is being assessed from a wrong angle. At least this is a good starting point.

Any current musician that wants to seriously adopt progressive music as his/her main vehicle of expression, must start by understanding what we are talking about here. Back in the 70’s, the confusion was understandable. But now, more than 40 years later, it’s not acceptable for a prog musician to ask the audience to clap on a show. Or for a prog singer to stand beside the guitarist and mimic his guitar solo. No. As long as uninformed musicians continue to do that, progressive music will continue to be a marginal by-product of rock.

So, here’s the first medicine to turn this Prog patient back to full health: BAN THE TERM ROCK.

You will see me using the term “Progressive Rock”, especially in promotions, because I want to reach an audience that would not know what I’m taking about if use another term.

There’s a second issue also related to “Identity”: Progressive. If you read previous Phaedrus articles like “Progressive Rock – A Misleading Tag” or “The Creative Process” then you are well acquainted with my point of view. Let me summarize it here. It is a mistake to put “innovation” as the most distinct feature of a genre. Innovation is nothing more (and nothing less) than just one of its attributes. A genre cannot be defined by being innovative because that term is linked to the passage of time. Picasso’s work is not innovative anymore. If that were the only way to label his work, nowadays it would be, at best, misleading.

Again, back in the 70’s it made sense to relate this new music to the term “progressive”. But not anymore. Some bands are stretching the boundaries of the genre; they are innovative. Others are creating valuable works of art, but keeping their language well within the current aesthetic boundaries. Again, let me put an example in classical music. Camille Saint-Saëns died in 1921. He was a contemporary to Debussy, who died in 1918. Should we dismiss the former because his language was decades behind the latter? Any classical music lover would tell you that the mere thought of dismissing Saint-Saëns’ music would be heretic. So, why should we do that in our genre? Some innovate, most others don’t. That is exactly what happens in ALL forms of art.

So, second medicine: don’t expect all the music done in our genre to be innovative. Therefore, here’s another word that we should delete from the term that defines our genre: PROGRESSIVE.

Ooops. Our genre is called “Progressive Rock” and I’m proposing to ban both words. What then?

As I stated in “Progressive Rock – A Misleading Tag“, labelling our genre is not an easy task. Because it is very eclectic and has absorbed elements from a wide variety of genres: rock, jazz, classical music, ethnic/folkloric, you name it. An alternative is “Art Music.” But any music considered an artistic expression, a work of art, would fall into this category (jazz and classical music would be the two main contenders).

In that article, I explained that the genre has several attributes of a movement called Neo-Baroque. Although it is true that there is some intersection with modern jazz and classical music, who share some attributes of Neo-Baroque, I find this term particularly appealing for our genre. It even preserves the sound “rock”, thus leaving a trace of the original term.

So, fellow Phaedrus community members, are you willing to join me in this quest to find a more appropriate label for our dear genre? My initial suggestion is: Neo-Baroque Music.

Attitude

Here’s another problem that we need to address in order for Neo-Baroque Music to fully recover its health. We have two options:

• We say that Neo-Baroque Music is well but not alive because no substantial works have been created after the seventies.
• We say that Neo-Baroque Music is well and alive because it is still evolving.

There is nothing wrong with the first statement. Impressionist music, written by composers like Debussy or Ravel, is doing well because it is appreciated and heard by millions of music lovers around the world. It is alive in that sense, but it is not evolving except for a handful of composers who continue to restrict their music to that style. However, I think the second statement more accurately defines the current state of our genre. In fact, the prefix “Neo” is nice because that is exactly what has happened to it: a renewed version emerged in the 90’s and has continued to evolve until today.

Unfortunately, the attitude of too many stakeholders is not firmly aligned with the second statement. Proof of it is the New Yorker’s article and, look at what I did with David Weigel’s recent book “The Show that Never Ends”: I went to Amazon, and searched in the book for the following terms:

• Universe Zero
• Miriodor
• Deus Ex Machina
• Discipline (references to King Crimson’s album, but not the band)
• After Crying
• Anekdoten
• Kotebel
• Aranis
• Big Big Train
• French TV
• Frogg Café
• IQ
• Thinking Plague
• White Willow
• Yugen

Guessed how many results? Zero.

Same phenomena occurs in the Prog-Awards. The list of omissions would fill several articles.

Here’s the point I’m trying to make: the little media attention that the genre gets, is concentrated on a hand-full of bands that hardly represent (except for some notable exceptions) the new incarnation of the genre. So, we, the community, must speak-up and discredit those who pretend to present themselves as experts in the genre, and don’t have a clue of where the real talent is, and what are they doing.

Sadly, many prog rock icons also reinforce the idea that Progressive Rock is dead in the sense that no substantial works have been created after the original boom of the genre. Most have shown little or no interest in investigating what’s out there. This is rather incomprehensible because we are talking about the real legacy of the amazing body of work that they created. The vast majority would not be able to mention more than a couple of the bands in the list that I presented above.

As a case in point, let me show you a fragment of the interview that Rick Wakeman, in his program “Face to Face”, did to Ian Anderson:

Through the ages, there have always been people who claim that all has been done and discovered. Probably at the time many said that after Beethoven’s string quartets, there was really not much more to be done in terms of expansion of the music language. Now the sad thing, is that Mr. Anderson arrives at that conclusion because the only interesting thing worthy of mention, is Coldplay doing a 7/4 beat! Had he taken the time to listen to the current bands that are truly expanding the genre, he would have probably reached a very different opinion on the current state of affairs regarding Neo-Baroque Music.

Note this Anderson’s comment, which is particularly relevant to the discussion about the inappropriateness of the term Rock to define what is currently going on in the field of Neo-Baroque Music:

As of May 13 2018, the full interview is not available publicly anymore. It is supposed to be found at www.rockondigital.com but it is not available.

And, finally, I want to finish this first version of the article by highlighting some ideas expressed in “The Cult to the Ephemeral and its effect on Art”:

The biggest problem related to “Attitude”, is that the Neo-Baroque Music community follows consumer patterns of commercial music. Fans of our genre have become mass consumers. And this music, requires and deserves more attention. Complex albums are dismissed after a few spins because there are new albums that need to be listened to. Fans of other Art Music genres are aware of this and tend to specialize themselves. They focus their attention in their preferred styles and can spend weeks fully tasting a few albums before acquiring more. We should do the same. Because by becoming a vast and shallow lake instead of a vigorous deep and narrow river, we are contributing to the banalization and trivialization of the genre. If we force Neo-Baroque musicians to mass produce because their albums cannot preserve the attention of the community for more than a few weeks, quality will diminish.

I think there is enough food-for-though in this first version to spark a healthy debate. Let’s, between all, make an accurate diagnosis of where our genre is and what should be done to make sure that it continues to grow in health and prosperity.

Once the second version is completed, I will post it in the blog. Feel free to distribute it among social networks, blogs, forums, etc. Let the voice of our Phaedrus community rise and be heard! We can and will promote change!

Although not the majority, a huge amount of people believe that what we think and feel is nothing more than a mirage created by chemical/electrical processes in our brain, called synapsis. Our most profound emotions, reflections, insights, are a result of a complex neurological network. In the case of great works of art, some scientists believe that these are a result of brains that have a special configuration. Even though our artificial intelligence devices are still uncappable of creating a symphony comparable to, say, Beethoven’s 9th, it is just a matter of time until they do so.

It is no secret that I am a firm believer in the existence of an intelligent universal source of which we all form part of. One of the main reasons for this profoundly engrained belief is my experience as an artistic creator.

I have written music since my early teens, from rock tunes to classical chamber music, to complex symphonic rock pieces. And in many cases, the creation process has been linked to the manifestation of an intense “condition” that is extremely difficult to describe. It is a sort of trance, where things happen in a dream-like state that cannot be remembered afterwards. I can honestly say that I don’t remember the precise moment when some of my favorite passages were written.

So, before explaining the process that I follow when writing music, or rather, in order for this description to make sense to you, I have to tap into some metaphysical considerations.

My personal view of the Cosmos is relatively simple to explain. Let’s start by clarifying a key term. The source of everything that exists is God. This is quite straightforward even for agnostics or atheists in the sense that we can link the primordial infinitesimal point from which the Big Bang originated, to this “entity”. However, from this moment onwards, the discrepancy begins. In one direction, God is the origin of all physical manifestation but there is no awareness, no intelligence. After the Big Bang, everything happens by a combination of chance and laws of physics. On the other direction, this “entity” is aware of its existence and this physical environment that we call Universe has been created with a specific purpose.

Obviously, I’m inclined to follow the second direction.

Let me go back to what I stated in the first Phaedrus article “Tonality and the Purpose of Life”:

To be able to play the piano…

So, in my view of the Cosmos (shared by millions by the way) God is manifested in everything that we perceive, from a grain of sand to a galaxy. A consequence of this consideration is the concept of “Oneness”. Our separation is an illusion; we are part of the same universal stream of consciousness much like individual waves are part of the ocean.

This last concept is key to understanding my view of the creative process. An inspired artist taps into this universal stream of consciousness and during the creative act, it is nothing more (and nothing less) than a vehicle through which this universal consciousness manifests. We become more or less competent scribes and whatever ends up being the artistic creation is a combination of what came through us, and the contamination created by our technical limitations and our attitude. What I mean by attitude is that quite frequently our mind gets in the way and distorts the idea that surged spontaneously. I don’t want to imply that the rational decisions are negative, quite the contrary, they are an essential complement to what arrives through pure inspiration. But the fact is that we mold, or change, the raw material received based on rational (which includes cultural) and technical considerations.

A fascinating way to link the universal stream of consciousness to the creative process is by observing the characteristics of works of art that we call masterpieces. They are the result of highly inspired artists that had the perfect combination of “receptive disposition” of this consciousness stream (good antennas) and technical competence (proficient scribes). When these works are subject to meticulous scholar analysis we find all sorts of “embedded intelligence”: climaxes that coincide with the “Golden Ratio”, motives that appear in the most unexpected places (expanded, reduced, transformed into harmonic progressions, mirrored, etc.), structural relationships that look more like the work of an architect, illogical but highly effective timbrical combinations, etc. Some of these are purposely included by the artist but a vast amount, are just there. Do you think that all of the details discussed in the musical analysis published so far in Phaedrus were all intentional? I can assure you that they’re not. Let’s take an example from “Close to the Edge”. Conceptually, the piece explores the physical and spiritual aspects of sentient beings, from an initial state of conflict between these two fundamental aspects of our existence, to an illuminated state where both aspects are reconciled. The initial state is described musically by conflicting tempos between the rhythmic and melodic sections of the band. In order to describe the illuminated stage, the rhythmic pattern is trimmed in such a way as to achieve a synchronized rhythm with all the band playing at the same beat. Unless proven wrong (and please let me know if you find evidence in any article) I’m certain that this was not done on purpose.

I could go on for pages on end describing instances of this “embedded intelligence” of which the composers were not aware of. I have a superb example in my own experience:

Sometimes an idea is triggered by a musical passage from someone else. The 4th movement of my “Concerto for Piano and Electric Ensemble” was inspired by the first chord pulses of the “Allegro” from the “3 Danzas Concertantes” by Alberto Ginastera. Compare the initial measures of both pieces:

Allegro from “3 Danzas Concertantes”:

Allegro from “Concerto for Piano and Electric Ensemble”:

Now the interesting, or rather incredible part is that I seemed to tap into the same consciousness stream where Ginastera took his inspiration from. Why? This is what happened:

Most of the 4th Movement of the “Concerto for Piano and Electric Ensemble” is based on this simple motive:

It appears for the first time in the bass:

Then by piano and synthesizer:

Also in the minimalistic section:

And is the main motive in the Coda:

Approximately one year after writing this movement, I was listening to the radio and I came across the “Pampeana #2 Opus 21” by Ginastera which I had never heard before. Imagine my surprise when I heard this:

Of course, this could be just a coincidence. However, I have always been a firm believer in “Ockham’s Razor”:

Among competing hypotheses, the one with the fewest assumptions should be selected.

Let me digress for a moment: I think we all agree that our eyes are highly sophisticated artifacts. Vision in general has an amazing amount of advanced engineering built into it. Among several hypotheses that explain the development of this mechanism, I will choose the 2 main ones:

• No one designed it. It was created by chance, through millions of years of trial and error and natural selection.
• It is the result of two forces: a cognitive force that orients molecular organization with a specific design purpose, and a natural selection process that refines and modifies the molecular organization based on the characteristics of the environment.

I believe that the second option is more in line with Ockham’s Razor. It is simpler to assume that a highly-sophisticated artifact was designed, rather than saying that it came out of nowhere, by chance.

So, we have a couple of hypothesis to explain the joint use of such a specific melodic motive, written by exactly the same composer that initially inspired my work:

• Coincidence
• We both tapped into the same stream of consciousness

My choice is clear.

With this elaborate metaphysical introduction, I can now explain how I go about writing a piece.

Sometimes a new piece of music is completely developed from scratch. But other times artists resort to their “private arsenal”. What is this? Bits and pieces of musical ideas that are developed and stored waiting for the appropriate moment. They are sudden bursts of inspiration: melodies, rhythmic patterns, maybe even a single chord. You rush to whatever you have handy, jot down the idea, and deposit it in your private arsenal for future use.

With or without an arsenal, the fact is that you sit down with the intention of writing a new piece of music:

I’m in front of a white piece of paper (or an empty Sonar file in my case). What next?

This depends on whether the piece is pure music, or descriptive in some way. An example of pure music would be again the Concerto for Piano and Electric Ensemble. Descriptive music could of course be based on a wide variety of extra musical elements: a poem, a story, a picture, a movie, or even an abstract concept. I have written pieces for some of those. For example:

• “Hades” from “Fragments of Light” is based on a poem by Nathalye Engelke.
• “Simurgh” is based on an ancient story as narrated by Jorge Luis Borges in his “Book of Imaginary Beings”.
• “Mysticae Visiones” is based on the Rosicrucian cosmological conception.

When the music is descriptive, obviously this sets a predefined framework. It is a tricky situation because I don’t like to put barriers to my inspiration. Fortunately, if I have the right mind-set and attitude, the ideas that start to flow are coherent with the chosen extra musical material. Let me give you a concrete example:

When I read the story about “Simurgh” I immediately created a movie in my mind. I imagined the different scenes and let music spontaneously emerge from them. As the plot evolves, one knows beforehand the type of music that would be suitable. In that case, one can go back to the arsenal of previous musical ideas and select an appropriate one as a starting point or, again, let inspiration do its work.

The first note in a new composition may come from one of 3 sources:

1. My private arsenal (this is how “Simurgh” was started, for example)
2. I listened to a piece of music by someone else and that has sparked some musical ideas (for example “Mars Pentacle” was triggered by “The Fly-Toxmen’s Land” from the album Rhythmix by Univers Zero)
3. I just sit there and wait until something happens.

The third case has become the most frequent one because of Phaedrus, since I need to provide new pieces for every Phaedrus issue. I feel like Haydn in the Esterhazy’s Palace:

When I sit down to compose, I start with a meditation session. I “tune up my antennas” and start to wait for the signal. What happens next is that I follow what project managers call the CPM: the Critical Path Method. I go with the first impulse I have, not knowing beforehand where that is going to lead me. So, if the first thing that comes to mind is a bass pattern, I leave the keyboard and pick up the bass. Or it may be a drum pattern, so I might just sit on the drums and develop the pattern with no harmonic or melodic cue whatsoever. But, since I’m predominantly a keyboard player, the first idea usually comes in the form of a specific melody or harmony.

The next step is what I call the “Fantasy Stage”. I let inspiration do its stuff and I will not question what is coming out of it. In this process, following the CPM, I will move from a melody, to a harmonic pattern, to a bass or drum pattern. In other words, I zig-zag my way through the new composition letting inspiration lead the way until I feel that my antennas have received all they were supposed to receive, at least for the moment.

So, I start the next phase: “Mold the creature”. This is when mind and technical skills start to work for the first time. I look at patterns, try to understand what is happening. If I came up with a melody, I start to see what harmonic structure would be suitable. Sometimes, if what I have is the harmonic structure, I start to develop and refine it, including drums and bass, hoping that it will trigger the melodies that should be attached to that harmony. Fortunately, in most cases, the melodies start to arise spontaneously.

Of course, this is the ideal situation. Sometimes I spend a whole morning working on maybe 15 seconds of music and the next day I discard everything except the initial idea and start the process all over again.

Until I started the Kotebel project, the composition process was artisanal – the old-fashioned way: I would manually write the score using an acoustic piano as my main tool. This is how I wrote all the classical chamber music in the 90’s. However, when I decided to use Kotebel as the main vehicle for all my compositions, I soon realized that using a DAW (Digital Audio Workstation) was far more efficient. I selected back then (year 2000) a software called “Cakewalk Home Studio”. Since these programs are sophisticated and hard to command, I’ve been using that product ever since. I’m currently using Cakewalk’s Sonar Professional edition.

I cannot get too technical but I must explain the difference between MIDI and audio tracks. MIDI (Music Instrument Digital Interface) has been around for many years. Basically, what it does is to record performance information rather than an actual sound. In other words: what note is played, how hard, for how long, did I use a sustain pedal or any other modifier (like a portamento wheel for example) etc. So, you don’t capture sounds but “events”. On the other hand, audio tracks are simply digital recordings of a sound. DAW’s allow you to use both types of tracks simultaneously.

When I compose, I use MIDI tracks. There are several reasons for it:

• I may not know what instrument to use. I know the melody, but I’m not sure if this is going to be a piano or an organ.
• DAW’s automatically show MIDI events in conventional music scores. Even though they are not precise, they are readable. Therefore, I can read the music that I just composed in a traditional music score.
• I can change whatever I want, down to the very last note or event (a sustain pedal, for example).

So, I prepare several MIDI tracks in advance:

• Melody track
• Harmony track
• Bass tracks (MIDI and audio)
• Drum track

I have everything prepared so when in “inspiration mode” I can quickly change from melody to harmony, to bass, to drums. I have MIDI and audio bass tracks because sometimes I have an idea for a bass pattern that includes physical features like glissandos or a slap. In that case, I directly record the bass performance in the audio track. But other times it’s just a note pattern, so I play it with the keyboards and record the real bass afterwards.

So, you can imagine the first rough cut of the piece in the screen: MIDI recordings that zig-zag along the different tracks leaving empty spaces all around. Inspiration in pure state.

This is when “molding the creature” begins. After listening to this first version, I may start to “listen” to parts of it with a specific timbre. So I start to make my first arrangement decisions: this melodic line is an organ. I set up a MIDI organ track (that is, a MIDI track that has assigned an organ sound to it) and I copy the melodic line to it. I continue with this process, populating the score vertically with different instruments.

The famous saying: “Composing is 10% inspiration and 90% transpiration” holds true in this case. A lot of rational and technical decisions are made in this phase. For example, the instrument’s range must be taken into account. If a melody has notes in the range below middle C, then flute is not an option unless I decide to move it an octave higher.

More often than not, during this process of “populating the score vertically” inspiration knocks on your door and you go back into “intuition mode”. This may imply scratching part of the arrangement or taking the piece into an entirely new direction. I usually follow a rule of thumb: if I receive a very strong idea, I will follow it even though rationally it makes no sense. Because eventually, you will understand that it made all the sense.

The next phase is to determine what portions of the song should become a final product. Some parts might still be a bit fuzzy in terms of the idea itself or the arrangements while others are crystal clear. So, I make final recordings of those segments if they are made up of instruments I play (keyboards, bass, drums). As the other parts become less “fuzzy” I record them as well, leaving everything in its final form except instruments played by other musicians.

By the time the guest musicians record their parts, all the other instruments have been set to their final performance. Some may still be MIDI tracks, but the performance is the one that will go to the final mix.

The process I have just described is more applicable to Phaedrus than to Kotebel. In the latter case, I generate a template as a starting point to work on the arrangements. The template has all the parts that I consider essential to preserve the intention of the composition, but some parts may just be suggestions for the musicians to work on. The difference between the original template and the final version in the album is enormous. The musician’s contribution to the final arrangement is very important.

Another key difference is the use of metronome. All Kotebel albums after “Omphalos” have been recorded live in the studio, with no metronome. In Phaedrus case, since I play the rhythmic section, I have to use a metronome to hold everything together.

Before the final mix, I generate wave files for all the MIDI tracks with the final sound, as if they had been recorded that way directly. Believe me, there is no way to tell if you directly recorded that track as a wave file or if it was previously a MIDI track. Of course, this only applies to digital instruments that use a MIDI interface: sound modules, virtual and real synthesizers, electronic keyboards, etc. Acoustic and electric instruments (bass, guitars, flutes, clarinets, drums, etc.) are directly recorded as audio tracks.

For the mixing process, I use a combination of hardware and software: Sonar Professional in combination with a PreSonus 24/4/2 AI mixer and several processing units (for example TL Audio Fat-1 compressor for the bass).

Mastering is sometimes done in-house or subcontracted. But this is out of the scope of the article.

The process I have described is very personal. As you know, most progressive rock pieces are written as a collective effort. The musicians go to the rehearsal room with ideas that are used as a basis for jamming. From these jam sessions emerge ideas that start to evolve into final pieces. The articles “About Starless” and “Improvisation in Progressive Rock” expand on this collective composition process.

In my case, since I was trained as a classical musician, I don’t feel comfortable with the collective approach. I welcome the collective effort when working on the arrangements, but writing the piece is for me a personal endeavor. Having said this, there is an exception: “A Bao a Qu” from the forthcoming “Cosmology” album by Kotebel. This piece was written by Adriana Plaza Engelke and me, but it was not a collective composition but a sequential one. One of us wrote the piece up to a point, and gave it to the other one who finished it. Later we both worked on the arrangements. It will be interesting to see if fans are able to identify who wrote each part…

There are other aspects to consider during the composition process. They will be described in a future article.

It has become usual in her concerts to devote the last part of the program to improvisations. She selects a couple of people from the audience and ask them to suggest a popular melody that most attendants would recognize. That way, they will be able to appreciate how the melody is integrated into her improvisation. When we reached this part of the concert, Gabriela said:

Her statement is very accurate. For example, until the 19th century, cadenzas in concerts for soloists and orchestra were not written in the score. People would go to concerts in expectation, to see how the cadenza would be played. The popularity and perceived quality of a soloist was linked to his talent as an improviser when performing such cadenzas. Over time, cadenzas began to be written and became virtuosistic passages where the performer must follow the score. Nowadays, for example, no one would dare to modify the cadenza of a Bartok concert. Another example in classical music comes from the Baroque period. The “basso continuo” was a figured bass on top of which melodic instruments would develop melodies spontaneously; even organists and harpsichordists were allowed some liberty when building the chords defined by the figured bass.

As I have stated in previous occasions, progressive rock has many common elements with classical music, especially symphonic. The small amount of improvisation, is another common element. Of course, I’m not implying that improvisation is not present in progressive rock but I can firmly state that improvisation is not one of the most distinctive traits of the genre.

Why is this the case? Is it because of lack of technical ability of the musicians? Is it related to the type of music? Or is there another reason?

To look into these questions, let us pause to examine the various types of improvisation.

Free Improvisation

In this case, musicians have total liberty to play whatever comes to their mind. A motif can arise spontaneously and the musicians can use it to develop fantasies based on that idea. This type of improvisation has no predefined structure. There is no underlying harmonic base and musicians do not know beforehand what is going to happen. Some examples:

John Zorn Improv Marathon (The Stone, 16.10.2011) – part 1

Angel Ontalva & Vasco Trilla MUZENERGOTOUR 2014 (Live in Kemerovo)

Improvisation over a harmonic base

This is the most common improvisation and the key characteristic of jazz and its derivatives. This type of improvisation is also present in rock, World music, folklore, etc. In this case, the harmonic base is previously determined, as well as the duration of each improvisation. The performer knows beforehand what harmonic sequence will be used and, therefore, he can “plan” his interpretation. He knows what scales to use that will be compatible with the harmonic base or that will generate the type of tension that he wishes to create. This type of improvisation is less free and lends itself to the development of “templates”. For this reason, it is not uncommon to see the same soloist performing very similar improvisations, even in different songs.

The usual structure in jazz songs is to organize the piece around a harmonic sequence known as the “chorus”. The first time that the chorus is played, there are one or several previously written melodies. In other words, it can have the form A, or AB where B is a contrasting section. The first “chorus” is known as “head chorus” and has a variable duration (8, 16 or even 32 bars). When the “head chorus” ends, the improvisation rounds begin. In each improvisation, the harmonic base established in the “head chorus” is preserved. At the end of the improvisations, the piece ends with a reprise of the “head chorus”. Sometimes the song includes introductions or codas.

During the improvisations, usually there is total liberty when developing the melodies and frequently the improvisations are not based on the written material that was presented in the “head chorus”.

Chick Corea – Spain – Live At Montreux 2004

This pattern is very frequent in other genres, including rock. The famous “jams” follow this same pattern: a chord sequence on top of which musicians improvise. For example, the “Grateful Dead” jams were very popular in the 60’s.

Improvisation over a melodic base

This type of improvisation is much more difficult because, in essence, you need to create “on the fly” a theme and variations or a structured fantasy, using a specific melody as a starting point. This was the type of improvisation done by composers like Chopin or Liszt and has fallen into disuse probably due to its enormous difficulty. In exceptional cases, the thematic development and underlying structure are so rigorous that it is hard to tell whether it is an improvisation or a previously written song. The best way to describe this type of improvisation is with a couple of examples:

Gabriela Montero Improvisation Happy Birthday Heidelberger Frühling 2016

In this second example, the organist Thomas Ospital improvises over an ancient melody called “Puer Natus Est Nobis” (Christmas Day, Introit). This is the original melody:

This is Thomas Ospital’s improvisation:

Let us now explore the question of why improvisation is scarce in progressive rock. In the article Progressive Rock – A Misleading Tag, I argue that perhaps the most distinctive characteristic of progressive rock, that sets it apart from other genres, is:

“A structured approach to the development of thematic material”

The first two types of improvisation – “free” and “based on a harmonic base” do not lend themselves for this type of structured development. Only the third type of improvisation favors this type of development and, as we have seen in the last two examples, it requires an exceptional talent and technique, within the reach of a privileged few. For this reason, when improvisation appears in a progressive rock song, it is “free” or “over a harmonic base” to the detriment of a structured theme development. King Crimson was one of the few well-known 70’s progressive bands that embraced improvisation. Many of their songs were the result of “free” improvisation. Here are a couple of examples of improvisation in progressive rock:

“Free” Improvisation – King Crimson: “Starless and Bible Black”

Improvisation over a harmonic base – Jethro Tull: “Passion Play”

Progressive rock is a very good example of Art Music. Again, I refer to the article Progressive Rock – A Misleading Tag where I claim that another relevant characteristic of this genre is:

“A desire to evoke states of transcendence”

This is the ultimate goal pursued by the composer and, for this, he resorts to the structured development of ideas (melodic, harmonic, rhythmic) for the purpose of bringing the work to reach one or more climaxes. In other words, the construction of these climaxes is done through a process, sometimes artisanal, in which each step is conditioned by a conscious exercise of analysis and reflection. In the article of issue # 7 – May 2017 I will talk about the creation phenomena from my experience as a composer and I will expand on these considerations. For the time being, let’s keep the idea that, in progressive rock, climaxes are built “on paper”; they have been written beforehand.

Jazz lovers know that it is possible to achieve intense climaxes during improvisations. As the Spanish broadcaster José Miguel López says, when “there are elfs” in the concerts. Therefore, to reach an effective artistic communication it is not mandatory that the work be previously written, with no space for spontaneity and immediate creation. Of course, not everyone agrees with this observation. For example, the German philosopher Theodore Adorno in his essay “Aesthetic Theory” (to which I will refer in a future article), argues that art requires a certain “thingness”. According to Adorno, this “thingness” comprises a set of rational elements derived from the artist’s background, such as his cultural, social, and aesthetic sediments. These sediments, in combination with the artist’s “intuition,” create that which transforms the work of art into something that transcends both reason as well as the conditions of the environment from which it emanates. Adorno claims that the “thingness” is absent in improvisation or only present to a much lesser degree.

I believe that, as I will explain in my next article about the experience of artistic creation, “inspiration” goes beyond what Adorno labels as “intuition” because it brings with it a Superior intelligence from which the composer may or may not be conscious. During moments of great inspiration, the composer becomes an intermediary who transcribes a strong message that he is perceiving. The fidelity with which he embodies this message, depends on his technical ability.

In exceptional cases, like Gabriela Montero, technical competence is developed to a point where she is capable of transcribing “in real time”, with all sorts of details, a complex message that entails not only melody but a whole entity with all the structural elements of form, harmony, rhythm and dynamics already in their place. In most cases, however, what happens is that the composer lays out the ideas received from his inspiration in raw form, and then invests most of his time transcribing, structuring and refining it. During this process, the work of art can be complemented (or contaminated) by a rational process. This is the basis for the popular saying: “Composing is 10% inspiration and 90% transpiration”.

In the case of progressive rock, this refinement work is done “in the lab”: on paper as I previously stated, or as a collective effort. As Carlos Romeo explained in his article About Starless, often the pieces were developed from ideas, phrases, melodies, etc. that were contributed individually by band members. From that point, a team work process took place where the structure of the piece, the development of ideas, and climaxes were defined and fixed through successive iterations. Works of great complexity like Jethro Tull’s “Passion Play” were written from fragments from different sources. However, even though there are a few improvisatory passages, the end result is a song that was fixed down to the very last note.

We have a good example of this process in Genesis’ “Selling England by the Session” which provides access to recordings of some of the composition sessions of the band. Here you can clearly see that in many cases the ideas were refined through a cyclic process, until they were finally fixed in the form that we all know. This is the antithesis of improvisation. The objective is to take an initial idea and refine it through a series of iterations until you reach a version with which you are fully satisfied. In each iteration, a fragment of the idea could be fixed while the rest remains “unstable” and subject to additional experimentation (much of it improvised). The objective is to eliminate such “instability”, which is equivalent to saying that the objective is to eliminate improvisation. Let’s listen to some recordings related to the composition process (or “fixation”) of “Dancing with the Moonlit Knight”:

In this session, we can listen to Hackett experimenting with several ideas. Of all the material, we can see that only a small fragment made it into the final version:

In this very interesting take, we listen to Gabriel beginning to shape the melodies of the voice, with the support of Banks at the piano:

This third session portrays a much higher maturity of the ideas. The percentage of ideas already “fixed” is much greater. It seems evident that at this point the lyrics had not been written yet.

Therefore, we can see that, as a rule of thumb, the aim during the composition process in progressive rock is to fix the ideas. Pieces are the result of a refinement process, of “trial and error”, where decisions about what stays and what is discarded are taken consciously.

During this process of “fixation” of the pieces, many times improvisatory sections are determined. However, it is curious to see how some of these improvisations are reproduced almost identically during the concerts. In other words, what emerged as an improvisation, ends up being a “written” solo. To continue the analogy with the classical music world, it is similar to the cadenzas that started being a free section to gradually change into just another fragment of previously written music.

We can conclude that the scarce presence of improvisation in progressive rock is a natural consequence of the process that is usually followed when writing the songs. This process, in turn, is conditioned by the goal of achieving a structured development of thematic material which, as I already mentioned, is perhaps the most remarkable feature of this genre.

After the excellent musical analysis of “Starless” published in Phaedrus issue #4 – February 2017, we were asked the pleasant task of writing about this piece. The purpose of this article is to complement that analysis, focusing on aspects that can shed light on the song.

Needless to say, Starless is a song much appreciated and loved by fans of progressive rock in general and King Crimson in particular. In our particular case, we know and admire it since the distant summer of 1976 and we can honestly state that it still continues to excite us like the first day.

In order to gain a better understanding of this song, we need to discuss some important aspects related to the way of working of King Crimson, which are:

1 – The role of improvisation in the composition of King Crimson pieces

Limiting the scope of this discussion to the period when “Starless” was created, improvisations had an important place in the group’s concerts. Back in the Fall of 1972, we could understand the presence of improvisation due to their lack of repertoire. They only had 45 minutes of new compositions, plus the usual encore at that time: “21st Century Schizoid Man”. They needed to fill an hour and a half for a full concert. Listening to the music carefully we can see that the improvisations fulfilled a number of important functions in the group. From the perspective of the global architecture of the concert, they could appear as the coda of composition, a prelude of a piece, or a bridge between two songs. Also, they could appear alone, not subordinated to any composition. The usual process is that a single musician would start and the rest would follow into the improvisation. A perfect example of what we just described is what happened in the piece “Asbury Park” created on June 28, 1974 and included in the live album “USA”.

But there is something more, which is crucial for the discussion at hand. In many occasions, these pieces where a true incubator of ideas. Either because some of them appeared in the development of the improvisation or because they were introduced into it deliberately. If you’ve had the chance to listen to the abundant live material of the band, both official or of dubious origin, you will have noticed this.

The first time that we heard something related to the piece “Larks’ Tongues in Aspic, Part Two” was in a guitar solo improvised by Fripp during the first public interpretation of “The Sailor’s Tale” on April 12, 1971 in Frankfurt. The piece was performed with the lineup with which King Crimson recorded “Islands”, which is prior to the group’s period that we are referring to. Similarly, the oldest reference that we have heard about the instrumental piece “Fracture”, appeared in an improvisation during the concert at Bournemouth in March 24, 1973. It was Robert Fripp who would usually introduce these elements of compositions in which he was working, in order to observe how they worked, and take note of the musical reactions of the other band members. We will come back to “Fracture” later in the article. We must now remember another aspect: the appearance of melodies, melodic motives, rhythmic ideas or even whole songs (“Trio”, from the album Starless and Bible Black, as incredible as it seems, was pure improvisation). In this respect, the second theme of section A in “Starless” (following the terminology used by Carlos Plaza in his musical analysis of the piece that appeared on issue #4 – February 2017) was taken from a group improvisation. We have heard many recordings of concerts performed by King Crimson in 1973 and many improvisations started with a violin solo. This is the origin of this melody and this fact takes us to the next consideration.

Except very specific periods in this group’s history, for example the “projeKct” era [1997-1999] and the double duet [1999-2003] in their first tours, this way of working, presenting ideas during improvisations, was done outside the concert stage. This procedure was constrained to the rehearsal rooms.

2 – Composition as a collage and the issue of music authoring

When composing music, King Crimson has used a variety of procedures. It could be the work of a single writer, a couple of musicians, a musician with the support of a lyrics writer, or a collective composition. “Starless” belongs to this last category, as is another very popular piece: “21st Century Schizoid Man” – a collage of fragments with different origins and authorships. This phenomenon is not exclusive to King Crimson; we can find examples in the works of other bands like “Yes” where this procedure is evident. What seems to happen is that the work is done under two paradigms. In one of them, a single composition acts as the base or frame of reference for the newborn piece, which embraces the ideas that enrich or complete it. In “Yes” case, we can mention “And You and I”, written by Anderson and completed with contributions from Chris Squire, Steve Howe and Bill Bruford. The other paradigm is the collage, that in “Yes” case can be perceived clearly in some popular songs like “Starship Trooper” or “I’ve Seen All Good People”.

Going back to “Starless”, this piece is credited to the whole band and this fact, more than being the consequence of the band’s internal policy, is an exact representation of reality. Later, we will discuss the authorship issue.

In this piece, there are sections with very different authors and origins. As you will certainly appreciate, the fact that a conglomeration of ideas crystallizes in a composition that we understand and feel as something greater than the sum of its parts, is a token of the great craftsmanship of the band members.

So, by order of appearance, there are parts written (or improvised at some point) by David Cross, John Wetton, Bill Bruford and Robert Fripp. We cannot forget the role of lyrics writer Richard Palmer-James and other musicians involved in the arrangement both of the studio and live versions, and the version finally recorded (with a very different instrumentation).

As we already mentioned, the second theme of section A was created by David Cross, while all of section B, in the same tonality, is the result of work done by John Wetton, both musically and most of the lyrics. The 13/8 fragment in section C comes from Bill Bruford’s pen who in that period of his life was an incipient composer while the 13/16 fragment was originated in “Fracture” and was written by Robert Fripp. It is an astonishing fact that the whole of section C is related rhythmically and harmonically. Let’s remember that both parts are joined by a transition of syncopated guitars whose authorship is unknown but we presume is the guitarist’s. Finally, the winds interlude in the 13/16 part is a re-exposition of the vocal melody in B; and section A’ retakes section A ending the piece with the cadence resolution that was previously always sidestepped.

With respect to “Fracture”, there are two official recordings of the piece, that include the extracted fragment: a concert performed in Arlington, Texas on October 6, 1973,

and in Glasgow (the 23rd, same month and year).

We can find these recordings in the “Starless” box as well as in separate downloads at the band’s site “DGM Live”.

This is not a novelty in King Crimson; we could mention many examples of fragments of compositions that have waited even decades before finding their place. But this is not the time to get into these details.

As can now be understood, it is logical that the composition is credited to the whole band. This is not a trivial issue. The question of “who did what?” comes up frequently. The answers need not be obvious or evident. Robert Fripp wrote about this in his diary when he was working in the edition of the 30th anniversary of the album “Three of a Perfect Pair”. He commented on the e-mails received from Sid Smith who was at the time working on a band’s biography. They were precisely the “who wrote what” kind of questions. His comment was that regardless of who contributes something, the work of the other musicians completed the authorship. The contribution can be a bass riff, a sequence of chords, or a “complete” song. All of it was to be transformed and finished. A good example of this way of working can be found in the song “People”. We suggest that you listen to Adrian Belew’s template in his album “Coming Attractions”, the version developed by the band in the album “THRAK” or later live albums. It is fair that credit is given to musicians as a whole, regardless of who provided what to the composition.

3 – A little bit of history

King Crimson has songs that have never been recorded in a studio. There is no data about the music that never left the rehearsal room. Some were performed just once, like “Guts on my Side”, or along several tours like “Doctor Diamond”. Neither found a place in the albums that the band released in that period. When the time came to work on “Starless and Bible Black”, the song “Starless” was still unfinished. Let’s say that only Wetton’s ballad existed and, even though “Starless” wasn’t included, the album and an improvisation contained in it, were named after the song.

In the CD by John Wetton and Richard Palmer-James, “Monkey Business”, we find two different templates of the song. The oldest, is a piano piece whose last measures included the melodic line of the voice. On the second, interpreted by Wetton, the melody was sung and played by the guitar.

However, the group must have worked very hard because as early as March 19th, 1974 the piece, as we know it, was already being played live. The oldest version that we have heard was performed that day in Udine.

A very similar take was recorded on the 22nd of that month and was broadcasted in O.R.T. F’s program “Melody”.

As a rarity, we can comment that in Heidelberg’s concert of March 29th the band offered a forceful and energetic improvisation that ended in “Starless” after a transition carried out by the mellotrons. This was unusual.

This live version presents differences related to instrumentation and lyrics when compared to what was recorded in the studio during that same summer. The second theme on A was presented by the violin, not the guitar. Obviously, the band didn’t have a sax player in that period. The bass parts in the section in 13/8 from C were doubled by the electric piano played by Cross. The first solo on the section 13/16 from C was performed by Cross either on violin or with the electric piano. The melody in the interlude between the two solos of section 13/16 was played by Fripp with his electric guitar. Similarly, the re-exposition of the second theme from A in A’ was done with his guitar.

Except for those who had access to unofficial recordings, none of this was made available to the public until the release of “The Great Deceiver” box in 1992.

One of the many things that Fripp can recall from those years, aside from the great pressure on the musicians (long tours, promotional acts, a rapid succession of editions), is that the musicians were starting to interpret, sometimes in precarious conditions, material that was very new. It should be remembered here that King Crimson’s preference was to play the new material on tour before recording it, in order to perfect it, complete it, or in some cases remove it. That was the case with “Larks’ Tongues in Aspic” or “Starless and Bible Black” but not with “Red”. Only “Starless” was played live before the recording of the album. We believe that there were no concerts between March and July of that year where that piece was not performed. It was soon understood that “Starless” was destined to be the final climax point of the concerts, closing the set. Afterwards there was only space for the encore that was usually, although not always, the famous piece “21st Century Schizoid Man”. During the concerts, the lights would change to red on the second part of the piece. On page 72 of “The Great Deceiver”, talking about section 13/8 in section C, Fripp says:

Just a few among the public back then could have imagined in the spring or summer of 1974 that the piece would not be played again by the band in the next forty years.

The recording sessions of “Red” began on July 8, 1974 a week after what became the band’s last live performance in seven years, and when Robert Fripp already knew what he wanted to do in life from that moment. Maybe that is why this album was produced as if it was the closing of an entire period, summoning collaborators from past King Crimson incarnations. The material was organized as if it were a stage play, with “Starless” as the final act. If “Red” was a door opened into the future, the role of “Starless” was being the swan song of this cited era.

Without David Cross in the equation, Robert Fripp was in charge of playing all the keyboards in addition to the different guitar parts. Three wind players were invited for the occasion: Mel Collins (soprano sax), Ian McDonald (alto sax) and Robin Miller (oboe), each with a specific purpose. Mark Charig was also involved but his horn did not appear in the final mix. We have heard it in a DGM Live download, retaking the A theme in A’, in a similar fashion as many years later when the Hungarian band After Crying included a trumpet in their live arrangement. But the cast of musicians involved doesn’t end here because in the “Red” recordings an unidentified session musician plays the cello in concrete sections of “Red” and “Fallen Angel”. There is also a brief appearance in section B of “Starless” where the instrument can be heard very clearly. Even though the lyrics of the song are mainly due to John Wetton, they were finalized with the help of Richard Palmer-James during the recording of the album.

The band did not perform this piece live again until 2014. In the meantime, it was John Wetton, alone or with other bands, who rescued the piece. The 21st Century Band, a group formed by past and future members of KC whose repertoire was based on the period between 1969 and 1971, also included this song performing it as it appears in “Red”. During one of the performances of Robert Fripp’s “Soundscapes” the section A melody reappeared in one of the songs. Fripp improvised over it. This version originated the recording of the album “Starless Starlight” by David Cross and Robert Fripp.

It wasn’t until 2014, when King Crimson returned to a septet configuration that included Mel Collins, that the piece was reintroduced in the band’s repertoire where it remains until today. We witnessed this on October 3, 2016 in Hamburg. About the song, just as it was interpreted then, we commented in different media that this piece demands listening with absolute attention. After the ballad, the scene lighting was reduced to red lights while the song’s intensity was in crescendo. The end of the song was a pure apotheosis that took the public to a state of ecstasy and to rise like a spring to applaud furiously.

This is what we wanted to say about “Starless”.

Carlos Romeo.
Madrid, February 6, 2017.

For those of you acquainted with the thought of Walter Benjamin, let me clarify that this article does not pretend to be an analysis or critical review of his essay. Neither is this article an attempt to elaborate on his ideas. Rather, I take such concepts as “aura” along a very different, even opposite, path.

In addition to the concept of “aura” and its relation to the “ritual,” another element of Benjamin’s essay that sparked my attention is his description of the relationship between art and the masses. His essay, written in 1936, explores the characteristics of a new art – movies – to describe the transformation process affecting the arts. Although I will reflect on this insight later in this article, I cannot defer quoting a phrase Benjamin uses that effectively captures what I exposed in The Cult to the Ephemeral and its effect on Art:

Beyond conceptual differences, the notion of a work of art having an “aura” is interesting in itself. Referring to the “natural aura of things,” Benjamin describes it as:

In the case of a work of art, the aura is some sort of magical or energetic quality, consubstantial with the work with which it relates and indispensable for its manifestation. Now, my understanding of “aura” differs radically from Benjamin’s since he links the aura to the uniqueness or authenticity of a work of art. This unicity condition is Benjamin’s main premise to explain why the massive reproduction of a work of art results in the atrophy of its aura:

I believe, however, that the aura of a work is not inextricable from its original. Its survival through replicas depends partially on the quality of the reproduction, but also on other factors such as the type of relationship established between the work of art and its recipients. For different reasons, Benjamin points in a direction that is key to understanding the ideas that I will develop in this article:

Let us begin by developing the concept of the “aura” of a work of art. Benjamin is on the right track when he perceives the existence of an “energy” that emanates from an artwork. He attributes this energy to the cultural and historical background that attaches to each original work. He states that even the imperfections due to aging and wear form part of the work’s aura. It is logical, therefore, for Benjamin to consider that reproductions annihilate the aura because there are aspects of the original piece that are simply impossible to reproduce.

As I have insisted on my previous articles, “art is communication.” A work of art comes to life the moment there is communication between the work and its recipient. This communication is reflected in the impact that the work has over its beholder. The work of art is alive while this phenomenon takes place. The rest of the time, the work remains in an idle state. It has the potential to become art at any time.

I believe this potential is the aura of the work. When there is a connection between work and recipient, an auratic movement takes place. In other words, the potential energy of the aura becomes “kinetic aura” transporting all the elements of the work responsible for awakening in the recipient a wide variety of feelings, sensations, rational or subjective enjoyment, etc.

This potential energy has different gradations; that is, the aura of some works is more intense than others. Masterpieces contain a powerful aura while others, which should still be considered as works of art given their ability to communicate, have a weak aura capable of awakening just a fraction of what a “greater” work can produce.

The artist imprints the aura to his work during the creative process. This is where the soul of the work resides. The aura can reach out and touch our souls. Therein resides its power and unique capacity to move us in ways that we cannot describe rationally. I consider this to be what is most mysterious and fascinating about the phenomenon of artistic creation.

It is important to make a clear distinction between the concepts of “potential aura” and “kinetic aura”. The potential aura does not vary; it is linked to the work of art and it exists regardless of whether it is activated or not. On the other hand, the intensity of the kinetic aura depends on a number of factors. A work can have an enormous potential aura, and yet the communication with the recipient could produce an insignificant amount of kinetic aura, incapable of producing a substantial effect.

Let me illustrate this with a simple example. Let us suppose that we are in a crowded shopping mall, with reggaeton sounding at a high volume through the speakers system. You see someone approaching with a t-shirt that has an impeccable reproduction of the “Mona Lisa”. You had never seen that image before. It is more than likely that it would produce little or no impression on you. Benjamin would argue that this is a perfect example of how massive reproduction destroys the aura of works. However, if we could take this t-shirt to a room (always assuming that the reproduction is of the highest quality), lay it on a flat surface, hang it on the wall and create an appropriate environment with the correct illumination, probably a very effective artistic communication phenomenon would take place.

Thus, we see that the effectiveness of the artistic communication process or, in other words, the “intensity” of its “kinetic aura,” depends on factors that are not intrinsic to the original work of art. The “Mona Lisa” is “in essence” the same in the t-shirt as it is in the original painting at the Louvre museum. If we could move the painting from the Louvre and place it in an inappropriate setting, its kinetic aura would be severely diminished.

The effectiveness in the transformation of the potential aura depends on a number of factors. If we are talking about a reproduction, its quality is obviously fundamental. A poor, pixeled reproduction of the Mona Lisa will not generate a significant reaction even if we place it in the best possible environment. The disposition of the recipient is another key factor. Benjamin is quite right when he says that “art demands recollection.” And this is where the “ritual” becomes significant.

Benjamin links aura with ritual, and ritual, in turn, with tradition and culture. This is a very good observation:

We can see that Benjamin insists on the idea of attributing to the aura only the uniqueness implied in the original work of art. Following my line of argument, if we continue to assume that both the original work and its (quality) reproductions have potential aura, we can extrapolate what he says about the importance of the ritual. With all due respect, I will transform his phrase:

“The unique value of the “authentic” work of art is based in the ritual where it had its first and original useful value”

into

“the communicative capacity of a work of art depends on the disposition of the recipient and the conditions under which such communication is produced.”

Let us illustrate the importance of the ritual by reflecting on the resurgence of vinyl records. For many people, this revival has no logical explanation. It is even more puzzling in the case of modern recordings that live in the digital domain from the moment of their creation. Therefore, their migration to an analog domain cannot result in a significant change of their audio characteristics.

Sales of vinyl records continue to grow nevertheless, including new editions of works originally recorded analogically as well as new recordings, totally digital from beginning to end. We can find in the ritual an explanation to this phenomenon. The listening experience of a vinyl record involves a totally different disposition from the listener. This media facilitates a setting that favors listening with the appropriate state of recollection. If the listener’s disposition is correct, that is, if he does not play the record as background music but sits and listens to the music while examining the artwork, reading the lyrics, etc., the optimal conditions are created for the maximum transmission of kinetic aura. The listener can assimilate the totality of the work’s aura, all its auratic potential. For this listener, the experience is very different, much more intense, than when he listens to the digital version. Many attribute this difference to “something” in the analog environment that transforms the work. But, in the majority of cases, what happens is that when we listen to digital versions, we do so in a completely different setting: using headphones while riding on the bus or driving, for instance. Many are not conscious of the fact that the key is in the ritual, not in the audio characteristics.

I do not want to imply that there cannot be an effective communication when one listens to a CD or a downloaded file. But it is much less likely that the ideal conditions will be met for an effective communication. We listen to digital versions while moving from one place to another, or as background to other activities. It is true that many people listen to CDs the same way as those who collect vinyl records, but there is a subtle difference: those who listen to CDs in a recollected setting do so because they want to. Those who listen to a vinyl album in such an environment do so because they have to. You cannot listen to a vinyl record while riding a bus, for instance, and therein lies its major appeal.

I hope the above explanation shows the importance of the ritual. I do not link the ritual to its cultural, magical, religious or historic background, as Benjamin does. In my view, the ritual, in terms of its relationship with art, is nothing more than a set of characteristics (procedures and settings) that place the recipient in an adequate state of recollection to have the best possible disposition to undergo the act of communion with the artistic work.

I want to emphasize the words “disposition”, “communion” and “recollection,” because these words summarize well those aspects of humanity that are being dissolved in the “entertainment society,” as I described in my article The Cult to the Ephemeral and its effect on Art. Indeed, as Benjamin says:

I cannot extend on this statement without transforming it into an analysis of Walter Benjamin’s ideas. However, it is important to note that Benjamin’s notion of “art politicization” is closely linked to his Marxist vision of society, where what is most important is the day-to-day ordinary activities of the proletarian mass. Benjamin argues that the destruction of aura is a positive development since it allows art to be detached from its cultural and traditional context, transforming art into something that can be reused, reassembled, and recombined in a rhizomatic fashion.

Evidently, I strongly disagree with this position since I consider that this manipulation of art is heretic. But consistent with my determination to stay away from politics in these articles, I will just highlight that Benjamin, already back in 1936, was able to perceive the profound cultural changes that were about to occur at a great scale with the massification that occurred half a century later, propelled asymptotically by the Internet:

“Distraction” (or entertainment) as a type of social behavior.

Today we can say that entertainment has become a pattern of behavior that will be considered as one of the most important identity signs of society in the late XX and early XXI centuries.

We have seen that the manifestation of the artistic phenomena depends on the intensity of its aura and the recipient’s disposition. The ritual creates an appropriate environment for the disposition of the recipient, but, ultimately, his attitude is what determines the outcome. Even if one follows the ritual under a perfect setting, the intensity of the artistic manifestation will be diminished unless the disposition of the recipient is adequate. Now we can see the relevance of Benjamin’s quote introduced at the beginning of the article:

This idea reinforces the arguments exposed in The Cult to the Ephemeral and its effect on Art where I speak about the need to be more selective and not to fall into the temptation of becoming massive art consumers. Simply, we cannot be massive art consumers without reducing dramatically the kinetic aura and, therefore, greatly diminishing the manifestation of the artistic phenomenon as I understand it. If we could express this idea mathematically, the intensity of the artistic phenomenon as a result of adequately listening and assimilating a short selection of works would be greater than the result of “listening on the fly” to a large number of works. By “listening on the fly” I do not mean listening briefly to fragments of an album. In my opinion, listening to an album a couple of times, or maybe even more but while paying attention to other matters, is still “listening on the fly.” Listening to five different album, let us say, on a single day cannot produce an effective communication unless we are already wholly acquainted with each work and we have enough time to put all our attention to each listening session.

I insist on the need to be more selective. Do not try to listen to every new album on the market, but rather focus your attention on works whose style or authors are more akin to your aesthetic preferences. Of course, this does not mean that one should not be open to trying other styles, but always maintaining the motto: “less is more.”

A final note

A good friend of mine, while proofreading this article, came across this interesting video. The Washington Post decided to do an experiment and put the famous violinist Joshua Bell, with his $3.5 million dollar violin, on a Metro station during morning rush hour. Look at what happened:

The conclusions of the study were centered around topics such as whether beauty exists or not, or the current superficial approach to life, the rat race (much in line with my article The Cult to the Ephemeral and Its Effect on Art), the snobbish attitude towards classical music, etc. However, another explanation might be that the conditions were not met for an effective transformation of potential into kinetic aura. I argue that if we could place the same 1100 people in an appropriate setting (for example, a beautiful cathedral with an excellent acoustic) and Bell played exactly the same music, a much higher percentage would have been moved by Bach’s art even if the concert was free and nobody knew who the violinist was. What happened in the Metro, was that there was hardly any artistic manifestation at all in spite of the enormous potential aura of the work.

Let’s change the scene: Bell is not a violinist but rather an excellent art rock album urging fans for attention. And fans are rushing by the album while thinking: “I cannot spend so much time on you, there’s so much new music to be listened to….”.

You may be wondering, if the term is misleading, why is it commonly used in Phaedrus? The reason is that this magazine appeals to a wider audience than followers of the current art music scene. Most people would not be aware of what this magazine is all about if the term “progressive rock” was omitted. With this in mind, I invite you to read this insight on how we label our dear genre and its different subcategories.

Progressive Rock – A Misleading Tag

Carlos G. Plaza Vegas

December 30th, 2006

The title of this article[i] seems to suggest that this is yet another attempt to define what or what not ‘progressive rock’ is. My purpose, however, is not to propose an alternative definition but rather to alert the community of the pitfalls inherent in the use of the words ‘progressive’ and ‘rock’ to define our genre. Indeed, ‘Progressive Rock’ is a term that many musicians and bands stray away from. It also generates negative connotations in both critics and the music industry alike. But what is even worse, the term itself leads fans and musicians to wrong expectations and assumptions, and it is here where the use of this misleading tag has its most negative consequences.

Throughout the years, our music has been subject to a wide range of definitions, classifications and sub-classifications. Books like Edward Macan’s Rocking the Classics[ii], Jerry Lucky’s 20th Century Rock and Roll – Progressive Rock[iii] or Progressive Rock Reconsidered by Kevin Holm-Hudson[iv] are attempts to define the genre following different criteria. Sites like www.progarchives.com or www.progressor.net, likewise, provide definitions of the genre itself and a wide variety of sub-styles, such as:

Art Rock
Canterbury Scene
Experimental/Post-Rock
Indo-Prog/Raga Rock
Italian Symphonic Prog
Jazz Rock/Fusion
Krautrock
Neo Progressive
Prog Folk
Prog Related
…

Although these classifications are useful to guide fans through such an enormous musical offer, I’ve always felt that the focus must be on the music and not on its different tags. If this is my position, why then do I propose the subject of classification as a topic for discussion? It is because I believe the term ‘Progressive Rock’ is one of the main elements preventing the expansion of the genre.

Those who believe that “progressive rock” cannot enjoy a healthy fan base because “it’s too complex” for the average listener, must ask themselves why jazz and classical music do have a healthy minority, big enough to allow musicians to make a living of music and to generate hundreds of festivals and concerts throughout the world. Let me take the analogy with jazz and classical music a step further by asking some questions, in order to show why it makes little sense to use ‘progressive’ as a noun, instead of as an adjective:

1. Do you think that a jazz fan would discard listening to contemporary musicians playing classical jazz?
2. Would the term “progressive” be appropriate to describe avant-garde groups that are experimenting with the fusion of jazz and electro-acoustic music?
3. Do you think a jazz fan would say: “the only jazz worth listening to is avant-garde. If I go to a jazz club and see a group playing classical jazz, I leave immediately”
4. What about classical music? Do you think there are no classical composers who could be considered as progressive as the most radical RIO group? Well, they definitely do exist so, why bother going to a concert to listen to Bach or Ravel?

The Term “progressive”

For jazz or classical music fans, progressive or avant-guard is nothing more than an attribute. Not the main, definitely not differential, and by no means a mandatory way to lead the listener towards the type of music he listens to. In the classical world, fans of Mozart or Clementi feel as classically oriented as fans of Messiaen or Hindemith. Yet, this is not the case with progressive music… Despite their obvious differences, Arena and Univers Zero, for example, must have something in common: both appear in similar webzines and magazines, share fans, they play in similar venues and festivals, even though one is unquestionably prog while the other one is not. Either we leave one of them out, or something is definitely not working with the way the term ‘progressive’ is currently applied.

Many musicians demand that bands labelled ‘progressive’ must be innovative. Let me quote Steve Wilson as a case in point:

In his excellent book “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance”, Robert Pirsig explains that the way we perceive reality is heavily dependent on the way we use our “analytical knife” to splice it into categories.[vi]
The way Wilson uses his knife leads him to conclude that contemporary progressive rock bands “[follow] the blueprint from 1972 so closely; it’s completely pointless and redundant. They’re never going to better the originals, anyway – why bother?”[vii]

Now, if instead of using our analytical knife to divide music into prog or non-prog, we use it to divide the music into Art Music and Commercial Music, let us look at how music could be currently classified:

(1) Academic in the sense that formal training is required to compose and, generally, to perform this kind of music
(2) More on this term later in the article
(3) Under this alternative classification, Neo-Prog should be used to label contemporary progressive bands like, for example, Miriodor. Bands we currently classify as “neo-prog” should rather be classified as “neo-classic.” In the remainder of this article, I will use this term to refer to neo-prog.

This alternative classification allows, for example, the attribute ‘Symphonic’ to be applied to both Classical or Progressive oriented musicians. Arena would be an example of a Classic-Symphonic band. Kotebel would be an example of a Progressive-Symphonic band.

Wilson’s statement is only correct when applied to avant-guard artists in all forms of art, not just our genre. This is the root of the problem. We cannot discard art just because it is not progressive. ‘Progressive’ is about the future and only a few artists take upon themselves the challenge of expanding their language and exploring new grounds. But there are hosts of artists whose creative urge can be satisfied with the means already at their disposal. They do not feel the need to go further. But be careful: innovation cannot be an end in itself! The artists that innovate AND transcend, are those who break new grounds as a means to fulfil their creative urge; they are compelled by their inspirational drive to create new languages.

Rachmaninov wrote his music when few composers dared to put a key signature (tonality) in their score. He was not progressive; quite the contrary, he was quite regressive. Nevertheless, he is regarded as one of the most important classical composers of the 20th century. In fact, much more than a fair number of his contemporary “progressive” peers.

Looking at our genre from this angle, allows excellent neo-classic artists like Matthew Parmenter to co-exist and be appreciated along with the bands/artists who are breaking new aesthetics grounds. These artists will transcend depending on the intensity of their music and their ability to deeply affect the listener. Bad copy/paste neo-classic bands full of clichés will be forgotten in the same way that RIO bands whose only aim is to sound original. Both cases will not sustain the passing of time.

I invite you to consider the impact of this Copernican shift, not only amidst fans and musicians, but mostly with regards to the interaction of our genre with the outside world. If a current neo-classic band wipes out any reference to the term progressive in its literature, they would be able to avoid the attack of both anti-proggers outside our circle and anti neo-proggers within our fan base. They could approach the outside world saying that what they offer is not progressive but … what? Well, this takes me to consider what Arena and Univers Zero have in common.

The progressive bands in the 70s incorporated a fair number of elements that, used in conjunction, created a whole new genre. Thomas Olsson[viii] accurately describes these main elements, identifying, among others:

• The use of a wide variety of instruments
• Notated music
• Modal harmonic principles are widespread
• Classical forms are common
• Complex compositions and arrangements

Nowadays, most of these attributes are also present in other music styles. However, there is one that is rather unique to our genre and shared only by classical music: structured development of thematic material.

This is, in my view, the back-bone of our genre. It is very difficult to find a “progressive rock” band where there is no organic growth of thematic material. You can find it (at least an attempt) in any long neo-classic song, as well as in most complex RIO compositions. Any band/composer who takes thematic cells (melodic, rhythmic, harmonic) as building blocks and develops these ideas in a structured form to reach a climax, will sooner or later find its way into our genre. Some will do it using a simple traditional language, others will achieve it through complex compositions; sometimes so complex that the building blocks are not apparent anymore. But in essence, they are writing the same kind of music.
I hope by now it appears clear why the term ‘progressive’ is not helping out in clarifying what our genre is all about. It confuses us internally and misleads the outside world. You might be asking yourself: “progressive is clear enough, but what is wrong with the term ‘rock’?”

The Term “rock”

Even at the climax of its popularity by the mid 70’s, Progressive Rock was under constant attack from music critics. Most argued that this genre betrayed the basic principles of Rock, which originated as an expression of counter-culture, aimed at the masses, with simple musical structures (mainly ABA) and lyrics about day-to-day themes that people could easily relate to. From this point of view, our genre should have been called something like “Progressive Anti-Rock”: complex musical structures frequently based on lyrics full of abstractions or based on mythological and ancient literature. Quite the opposite of the basic postulates of Rock.

Many groups presently working under our music genre are increasingly incorporating elements from other styles, giving an eclectic nature to the music produced. It is true that most bands have the typical rock quartet or quintet configuration, but so do many Jazz bands and they are not labelled rock because of their use of electric guitars, electric basses and drums.

Because of the complexity of our music, defining our genre as a rock manifestation is misleading.

Perhaps intuitively, some have moved away from the term ‘rock’, and changed the genre’s main label to “Progressive Music”. Others discarded the word ‘progressive’ and have come up with the term “Art Rock”. If we eliminate ‘progressive’ and ‘rock’, we end up with “Art Music”. It might be a start, the problem is that any musical manifestation conceived as an artistic expression not subject to commercial considerations, can rightfully be called “Art Music”. Jazz, classical, or folkloric music fits under this category.

As an invitation for people to come up with an alternative term, it would certainly be worthwhile to consider a term that is recently gaining popularity to define current art in all its manifestations: Neo-Baroque. I believe our genre fits very well in its definition. One of the most distinct attributes of our genre is its tendency to integrate styles, instruments, exotic modes and rhythms. And integration is precisely one of the main characteristics of Neo-Barroque, as most authoritative authors explain:

Alejo Carpentier, a notable exponent of 20th century literature, defines the term as “an aesthetics and ideology of inclusion.”[x]

In a way particularly relevant to our subject, the similarities between baroque and neo-baroque types of art were described in a recent exposition in Spain as:

Other attributes of Neo-Baroque that equally describe aspects of our genre very well are:

• the aesthetic of repetition and variation
• a tendency towards expansion, creating ambiguity in the frontier between pieces
• a desire to evoke states of transcendence

Art is Communication

Music, as the most ineffable form of art, has been a vehicle used by men to communicate sublime and transcendental messages that cannot be expressed by rational means. Inspiration emerges from the need to say something. Art, in any of its forms, is the vehicle. If there is no inspiration, nothing sublime to transmit, the result might be intellectually challenging or interesting, but sterile. Of course, inspiration is not enough; you need a correct media to transmit it. Without proper technical skills, it is not possible to project the idea effectively and accurately. A Master Work of Art, therefore, can only be achieved when these two elements are combined.

When I say that Art is the vehicle, I am implicitly stating that it is a tool to serve inspiration. Accordingly, art is subordinated to inspiration, to the message being conveyed. When an artist attempts to innovate for the sake of originality, because he/she wants to be considered “progressive”, he is transforming the vehicle into the end in itself. This is precisely the greatest danger with the improper use of the word progressive. It gives the idea that innovation is the end to be pursued and what should always remain a vehicle becomes, rather, the criteria to judge the value of a work of art. In the meantime, of course, inspiration and message are lost in this terminological jungle, to the benefit of people incapable of either understanding or conveying the true language of music.

I will finish this article with an analogy extracted from a letter I sent to the Spanish Progressive Rock Forum “La Caja de Musica” in March 2002:

Credits

[i] The ideas in this article were used as basis for the discussion forum on Gouveia Art Rock Festival – April 9th, 2006

[ii] Edward Macan. Rocking the Classics – English Progressive Rock and the Counterculture. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997.)

[iii] Jerry Lucky. 20th Century Rock and Roll – Progressive Rock. (Burlington: Collector’s Guide Publishing Inc., [no year stated in publication. Probably 1999 – 2000].)

[iv] Kevin Holm-Hudson. Progressive Rock Reconsidered. (London: Routledge, 2002)

[v] Interview with Steve Wilson. Explicitly Intense magazine (December 2005) quoted in The Ministry of Information blog, http://www.ministry-of-information.co.uk/blog/archives/001321.htm. The quote also appears in the Porcupine Tree forum (http://www.porcupinetreeforum.co.uk/).

[vi] Robert Pirsig. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. (New York: Bantam Books, 1974), p. 72.

[vii] Interview Steve Wilson.

[viii] Thomas Olsson. Rock progressivo hoje. Is there anybody out there? (Gouveia: Cadernos Progressivos Nº 1, 2006)

[ix] Francesco Guradiani. Old and New,Modern and Postmodern:Baroque and Neobaroque. Full article can be viewed at: http://www.chass.utoronto.ca/mcluhan-studies/v1_iss4/1_4art2.htm. For a very extensive analysis of Neo-Barroque, centered around audiovisual arts and cinema, follow this link to the article “The Baroque and the Neo-Baroque” by Angela Ndalianis: http://web.mit.edu/transition/subs/neo_intro.html

[x] Taken from the article Comparative Literature in an Age of “Globalization” , by Lois Parkinson ZAMORA. http://clcwebjournal.lib.purdue.edu/clcweb02-3/zamora02.html Link not active at time of publication in Phaedrus issue # 3 January 2016.

[xi] Baroque and Neo-Baroque – The Hell of the Beautiful (art exposition in Spain October 2005 – January 2006). Taken from an article published in the website of ‘Non Starving Artists’ http://www.nonstarvingartists.com/News/ImagedNewsItem.2005-10-16.4920.html Link not active at time of publication in Phaedrus issue # 3 January 2016.

[xii] http://www.dlsi.ua.es/~inesta/LCDM/Archivo/lcdm0348.txt (La Caja de Música # 348)

Featured image is a wallpaper from the outstanding webpage “ProgArchives”. This site is in my opinion the best reference for “Neobaroque Art Music” aka “Progressive Rock” This is the link to the wallpaper: http://www.progarchives.com/wallpapers/PACollage2.jpg

If you are not acquainted with ProgArchives, you should pay them a visit: http://www.progarchives.com/

The issues discussed in this article, will be linked to the analysis of the piece “Tarkus” by Emerson Lake & Palmer, that will appear in issue # 3 (January 2017).

These are some of the central ideas developed in Vargas LLosa’s book:

Culture, has ceased to be erudite and has become a “culture of the masses”. The aim of this new culture is to entertain, to allow for an easy way out of everyday reality. It starts with the predominance of image and sound over text, through the screen, a process which has accelerated along with the massification of the Internet.

This “democratization” of culture, far from fostering individual growth, has turned individuals into members of a flock that reacts gregariously.
We have experienced a degradation of culture where “mediocre artists with no talent «but colorful and pyrotechnic, experts in advertising and self-promotion [reach] extremely high levels of popularity. »” (p.181 in the Spanish version)

To summarize: there is no distinction between culture and entertainment, and in this transformation process culture has lost its reflexive and profound nature, and has been trivialized.

As an example, Vargas Llosa refers to the most representative literature of our time: light literature. The predominant group of readers that search for easy reading cannot encourage writers to venture to write works that require intellectual effort. Of course, this Vargas Llosa example can be applied directly to the field of “Art Music” which is our primary concern.

The entire artistic process starts with the creation of the work and ends with the assimilation by its beholder. In order for this process to be completed in its entirety, the recipient of the work must invest enough effort to reach a thorough understanding, with all its nuances. This is incompatible with mass consumption. I don’t mean massive in the sense of proliferation of works, but rather on their consumption. But I will refer to this later in the article. Let’s return to the summary of Vargas Llosa’s book.

The book has a very interesting reflection on traditional vs. current role of critics. In the past, intellectuals guided societies, issuing judgements on the basis of an extensive cultural background. Nowadays, publicity has taken over the role of critics. Fashion designers today seem to have the prominence that belonged to scientists and philosophers; soccer players and TV stars now have more influence on the tastes and customs than thinkers and intellectuals.
Beyond culture, Vargas Llosa states that society in general has trivialized. The notion of transcendence has been lost in the activities of human beings. The majority of what humans produce today, is ephemeral. Even in art music, in genres like art rock or jazz, there is a case in point: most posters advertising concerts do not include the year, only day and month. Nobody thinks that this poster might have some sort of historical value.

Much of the artistic production is, like almost all electronic devices, disposable. They are created assuming that they will be valid for a few years, at the most. This fact is reflected in the lack of concern about the media where these works are fixed, which will not endure the passage of time. None of the current media (CDs, DVDs, flash drives, documents and photos printed with domestic printers, etc.) will achieve the longevity of a painting by Rembrandt or a Greek sculpture. This fact seems to go unnoticed by the vast majority of artists.
In addition to these reflections on culture, Vargas Llosa describes how this trivialization of society has affected other vital aspects of life such as education, politics, religion and sex.

This book resonated strongly within me because the trivialization of human life is something that I have been meditating about for many years. A profound change has taken place in the approach to life, and it has happened within a few generations. As an example, my father had me when he was almost 48; he was born in 1911. For him, concepts like honor or honesty were important and the subject of frequent discussions during our meal conversations. Today, it is difficult to find people who even keep in mind something that, until just a few generations ago, was a matter of life or death. Therefore, I have been a direct witness to the profound changes in values that have occurred within a couple of generations.

Culture, of which Art Music is a subset, has undergone a huge transformation. From a vigorous and deep river, that required effort to transit, it has transformed into an enormous static lake, just a few inches deep, that anyone can cross effortlessly. But beware of a curious phenomenon. The river, however abundant and difficult, is measurable. With effort and dedication, it is possible to learn its topography and identify each twist and turn in every section. It is also full of contrasts, so we can focus on studying a specific portion: a haven of calm waters or impetuous rapids. On the other hand, the lake requires no effort to transit but distances are overwhelming. It is impossible to wander through all of it and, since it is similar everywhere, you cannot focus on getting to know a specific area. If there is a treasure hidden somewhere, it is almost impossible to find. Since the landscape is similar whichever way you turn, there’s nothing there to help you decide which direction to take. It doesn’t matter where you are headed. It doesn’t matter what you consume.

Another aspect that defines this civilization of entertainment is the use of information. We call this the “information era”. But we’re not conscious of the fact that, when seeking information, excess of data can be as bad having little. Some years ago, if we wanted to know about a particular subject, we went to the library and collected the reference cards of maybe a dozen books. Today, if we were placed in a silo and asked for all the data related to a particular subject, a gate would open and the amount of cards would be such that they would cover us completely and we would suffocate to death. We are suffocated by an excess of information. We lose our capacity to contrast information and we take as accurate whatever Google presents in its first two pages. We go back to what I mentioned in my article “Tonality and the Purpose of Life”: without contrast, we lose movement and vitality.

Igor Stravinsky, in his essay “Poetics of Music”, refers to the loss of contrast:

For the majority of human beings, the desire to transcend, to leave a trace as one goes through this life, has ceased to be a concern. “Carpe Diem” is the mainstream attitude and this is reflected in everything we do: how we work, how we relate to each other (including couple relationships and sex), how we have fun, what we eat, what we buy – what our priorities are.
When I talk about the vast majority, I’m not referring to those who are reading this. We belong to a minority that still understand what culture means; that more than once has felt shivers when listening to a music passage and thus understands what I mean when I define the artistic phenomena as a process that starts with the creation of the work and only ends when it has been assimilated. A work of art comes to life the moment it sparks an emotional or intellectual reaction on someone. However, we – this group of art lovers – have allowed ourselves to get intoxicated by the civilization of entertainment.

This intoxication directly affects the development and evolution of Art Music.

Again, Stravinsky describes the situation very well in his “Poetics of Music”:

It’s incredible that this was written in 1942, well before the global deployment of commercial music.

Stravinsky was able to clearly see the incipient phenomenon of culture trivialization, that nowadays has reached its zenith in the music consumed by the vast majority of human beings. It is entertainment music that requires no intellectual effort. In order to produce it, no extensive musical training or technical dexterity is necessary. I think this fact is what has propelled the enormous interest that Art Rock has sparked among musicians all over the world. Musicians that reach a certain academic level and become proficient performers feel frustrated when they cannot develop their potential within the restricted domain of mainstream music. Depending on their aesthetic taste, some lean towards classical music or jazz, but others partial to rock end up in the sub world of progressive rock.

The enormous quantity of musicians interested in this genre, has created an imbalance between supply and demand. The proliferation of bands and albums does not correspond to the small group of people interested in listening to this kind of music. And I’m not referring to those who occasionally dust off their old Yes or ELP records (hundreds of thousands – millions) but to those who follow the current progressive scene (tens of thousands). The technical means at our disposal allows us, legally or illegally, to access an enormous amount of music. Trivialization, lack of sense of transcendence (cult to the ephemeral) and flock behavior are compatible with the characteristics of mainstream music. It is music to use and dispose, therefore, it’s no issue to download an album, listen to it a couple of times, and substitute it for another. But this banalization is incompatible with true art, to which many progressive works belong. It makes no sense for a follower of this genre to adopt the same mechanism and become a mass consumer of this type of music. But, unfortunately, this is what is happening. In the social networks we see followers of progressive music and critics talking about dozens of albums in a span of a few weeks. No matter how good a new release is, in a few days it will end up on the shelf because there are new albums that need to be listened to. Valuable works, and there are many, end up submerged in a vast ocean of works with very different quality levels.

I believe that the outcome of this situation will be the disappearance of the genre. Or, better stated, not its disappearance but rather its dissolution into this enormous tasteless and homogenous mass that humans produce and consume each day.
Current progressive musicians know that their new album will attract public attention during a few weeks at best. This creates a tendency where quantity prevails over quality. If a musician wants to make a living from music, he must generate music continuously. Like everything else in this society, novelty is what sells.

Reversing this situation is mainly in the hands of fans. How? BY going back to the essence of what artistic phenomenon entails. Art is communication. Serious Art is the means humans have at their disposal to communicate the most sublime aspects of their being. As recipients of this information, we must be willing to carefully taste each work, until we assimilate as much as possible its message, with all its nuances.

If we invest the time that the selected works deserve, a direct consequence is that the total number of works we listen to, will diminish.

This change in attitude by the fans would imply a drastic reduction in mass consumption and, as a consequence, would affect the supply. The number of bands would reduce significantly, but the genre will improve in quality and depth. In a way, we would return to a situation similar to what we had back in the 70’s, when we only had vinyl records. Those who experienced those years know that sometimes when we bought an album, initially we were not able to appreciate its music. However, since it was not possible financially or technically to have unlimited access to all the music produced, we had to content ourselves with listening to the new album until we had enough money to purchase another one. In many cases, this “forced listening” would allow us to discover what had previously gone unnoticed so an album that nowadays would have been discarded, became a faithful travel companion all our life.

To a certain extent, current technology can help us revert this order of things, if we change our attitude. Let me explain myself. One of the Internet’s major virtues is that it allows the development of innumerable niches, where a group of people with very specific interests can establish a relationship. Before the massification of the Internet, it was very difficult for these groups to achieve critical mass. But thanks to technology and globalization it is now possible to generate very specialized niches formed by thousands. Therefore, another way to reverse this massification in art music is to foster a greater specialization in what we listen to. This doesn’t mean that we should wear blinders and ignore everything outside a certain subgenre (prog fans are generally very curious people) but we should pay more attention to the genre that best fits our preferences. For example, if a fan has a predilection for neo prog, he should be willing to invest more time and listen more thoroughly an album by Pendragon, than one by Magma. If, on the contrary, he abandons a neo prog album recently acquired, even though he is still enjoying it and discovering its details, because of a new release in other subgenre, he would be reinforcing the tendency to trivialize the artistic phenomenon, which is what we are fighting against.

Remember Stravinsky’s words: “The more constraints one imposes, the more one frees oneself from the chains that shackle the spirit.”

In summary, we must provide our grain of salt to fight against this process of cultural trivialization and the best way to do it is not behaving like compulsive mass consumers. Let’s be selective and take the time required to taste and enjoy thoroughly each work of art. Less is more.

Credits

Mario Vargas Llosa. La Civilización del Espectáculo. © 2012 Mario Vargas Llosa. © 2015 Penguin Random House Grupo Editorial. España.

Tatiana Alvarado Teodorika. « Mario Vargas Llosa, La civilización del espectáculo », Bulletin hispanique [En ligne], 115-2 | 2013, mis en ligne le 14 février 2014, consulté le 23 septembre 2016. (In Spanish).
http://bulletinhispanique.revues.org/2951

Ígor Stravinski. Poética Musical. © 1942 The President and Fellows of Harvard College. © 2006 de la edición en castellano Acantilado – Quaderns Crema, S.A. España. www.acantilado.es

Tonality is all about hierarchy of notes. In Western culture, we use a scale called “diatonic”, with five tones and 2 semitones (12 halftones in total). Eastern music is based on a scale of five notes (pentatonic). In India, quarter tones are used (in the western hemisphere these notes are perceived as “out of tune”). All around the world we can find music based on the use of specific scales called “modes” (in the western culture the preponderant modes are “major” and “minor”). But, in all cases, not all notes have the same importance. Once a tonal center is established, some notes become more relevant than others. Dodecaphony or “Twelve Note Technique”, created by Arnold Schoenberg in 1921 and expanded by the Second School of Vienna, is based on the “democracy of notes”. This School gave a vigorous impulse to the atonal music trend that began to be explored in the early 20th century by composers like Scriabin, Stravinsky or Bartók.

One of the basic principles of the dodecaphonic model, is that all 12 halftones must have the same importance. Therefore, the concept of tonality becomes useless and that is why dodecaphonic music and “atonality” go hand in hand. However, both terms are not identical because dodecaphonic music is constructed upon structures, or series. There are other types of atonal music where there is no underlying pattern.

99% of progressive music is tonal, so we are all familiar with tonality. For those of you who have never heard atonal music, here are some examples:

Anton Webern – Six Bagatelles for String Quartet

Pierre Henry, « Variations pour une porte et un soupir »

Arnold Schoenberg: Serenade op.24

For several decades, the question of “Tonality” vs. “Atonality” has been the subject of analysis and debates by musicologists, musicians and philosophers. The fact that atonal music (dodecaphonic, serial, concrete, etc.) has not been able to impose itself over tonal music after a century, has led many to believe that atonal music is “unnatural”. Many believe that the way we perceive the hierarchy between notes, is related to how harmonics are produced. In other words, that tonality is a natural outcome of a physical manifestation: a sound is produced by a fundamental tone, and the sum of its harmonics. In the simple case of a string, the first harmonic is an octave higher than the fundamental tone, the second one is on an interval of a fifth. If we play a C, its second harmonic is a G. In a piece of music based on the C tone, the most relevant note, after C itself, is G.

Others claim that tonal chords produce a natural resonance on physical objects; for example, an orchestra that plays a “tutti” (all instruments playing at once) over a tonal chord, will resonate much more than the same instruments playing a “cluster” (a group of contiguous notes – like banging a piano with your fist).

These assertions may or may not be correct, but there is a fact that cannot be denied: an enormous amount of atonal music has been written since the beginning of the last century and yet, just an insignificant amount of listeners favor it over tonal music. With the exception of music ensembles that specialize in “contemporary music” (I don’t agree with the term – more on future articles), most orchestras and chamber groups base their repertoire on tonal music.

History shows that artists expand the known esthetics bounds, compelled by the need to communicate something that cannot be adequately portrayed with the tools at their disposal. Usually, it takes time for society to assimilate this new language and many artists die before their work is fully understood and appreciated. But the lag between the artist’s innovative language and human assimilation is usually measured in years or, at the most, decades. Never centuries, as would be the case with atonal music.

We can safely say that there is “something” about atonal music that just doesn’t click. I believe it is not about equating tonality with something natural and atonality with some sort of “Contra Naturam”. In fact, in a certain way as you will see later in the article, atonal music could be considered as very natural. Then, if this “something” about atonal music has nothing to do with tonality being more “natural”, what is it?

Let’s explore this concept about what is “natural” a bit further. Of course, as an adjective, the common definition is “Existing in or derived from nature; not made or caused by humankind” (Oxford Dictionary). However, for the purposes of this discussion, this definition is more appropriate: “Conforming to the usual or ordinary course of nature” (Free Dictionary). What is the ordinary course of nature? I would say a course that does not oppose the laws of physics and thermodynamics. A course that “flows naturally” with these laws. If you find this to be a sensible argument, then one may conclude that life is very unnatural. Let me explain what I mean.

It takes a lot of effort to stay alive. If you decided to lay in your couch and do nothing, in a few days your body would begin a very natural process: our highly organized molecular structure would decay into its simpler constituents. In order to keep your highly organized structure, you must eat and breathe. And, if you follow your instinct to preserve the species, in addition you must fight and mate. If you add to it the need to preserve your body from extreme heat or cold, you end up with a pretty full list of “To-Do’s” in order to stay alive. No wonder it is usually called “Struggle for Life”.

So, here we are, struggling to keep nature from doing its natural job: to decay into lower forms of potential energy.

Life seems to emerge from the manifestation of potential energy. Contrast incites movement, which in turn propels life. There is endless literature where this contrast is beautifully expressed. It’s all about contrast: day/night, light/dark, male/female, Ying/Yang…. As electric circuits cannot work without voltage, life cannot exist without contrast.

Which takes me to a beautiful concept about God and the Purpose of Life. Even if you are an atheist or agnostic, please bear with me. You may find these concepts interesting and intellectually challenging. Let’s assume that there is an underlying energy that brings coherence to the Universe. And, let’s also suppose that there is such a thing as an infinite Creator. An entity that “Is” and that cannot be called an entity because there is no beginning or end to It. Pure infinity in terms of space and time. Following our previous argument, such a “concept” (for lack of a better word) would have zero potential. No voltage. White noise.

What’s the use of being the best pianist in the world if you can never play because you don’t have a piano? Well, this “infinity” situation posed a bit of a problem for God: I cannot manifest what I Am, until I’m not all that I Am. I need contrast and that necessarily means a subset of what I Am.

So, God creates universes (yes, there may be more than one), each a subset of what He is, thus creating contrast, which in turn creates life. The ultimate purpose of this is to allow God to manifest Himself. And manifest what? Everything that can potentially be manifested, from Beethoven, to Emerson, to a cockroach. I’m here writing this because I’m nothing else than God manifested through me. And you. And Emerson. And a cockroach. Of course, this idea is not at all original, but it is interesting to see that, for most westerners, God is some sort of anthropomorphic entity that decides what is good or bad, that judges and has us immersed in some sort of role play, with a script that only He knows. And that what God is, is somehow dependent on what religions say that He is. As if a tree would change because I insist in saying that it is a chair.

In future articles I will expand on this idea because it has very interesting implications on Good and Evil, God as pure love, or the urge of living beings to live and perpetuate their species (something that scientists explain using the notion of “instinct” or “genetically programmed behaviors”), etc. But for now, let’s stick to the purpose of this article. If we accept that our purpose in life is to allow God to manifest Itself, and that in order for something to manifest itself we need contrast, then you may finally understand how can I relate this concept with Tonality.

In my humble opinion, art is communication. In fact, art provides the most holistic communication mode that humans have. Because only with art can you communicate complex messages that embed rational ideas, emotions and even abstract notions that could not be expressed only by rational means. Art that says nothing, is not art. As radical as that. This is why I like so much the term “Art Music”. There you can include all forms of music as an art manifestation: from classical music, to progressive rock, to jazz or traditional folklore. Other forms of music also communicate, but in the same way as instructions to build a table or the ingredients of a medicine also communicate. You would not equate a CVS recipe to a Shakespeare novel, even though both communicate. The same applies to Art vs. Non-Art Music.

So, let go back to our discussion on what is it about atonality that doesn’t “click”. In my opinion, the problem with atonal music is that it strips the listener from a frame of reference. There is no voltage. All notes are the same. Tonal music, for whatever historic or physical reason, has through the centuries been able to create a frame of reference. That frame allows us to perceive contrast and, as a result, there is a flow of communication between the composer and the listener. Thanks to this frame of reference, we perceive tension and repose, we assimilate, understand and feel, how a climax is constructed.

Atonal music has not been able to establish an alternate frame of reference. Its attempts have always been too rational: a piece based on a mathematical series is a good example. Music that can be subject to lengthy and complex musicological analysis, but incapable of establishing an effective communication flow with the listener.

As an interesting example of how tonal music has been able to create a universal frame of reference, I invite you to watch this video:

Postscript – A clarification

There is a vast catalogue of great atonal works written by talented and inspired composers. The major mystery of Art is that, in spite of our efforts to analyze and scrutinize masterpieces, we still cannot rationally apprehend their essence. We can dissect a Mozart sonata down to the last note and yet, no one (by natural or artificial means) has been able to create a Mozart-like piece that can stand side by side against Mozart’s greater works.

These modern composers have been able to convey their messages despite the fact that their language provides little references to hold on to. Sometimes the coherence is provided by rhythmic patterns, others by playing with micro tonality – you feel a tonal center but just for a brief period of time, or by ingenious combinations of timbres. Or, by letting their intuition and inspiration be their guide and achieve this communication by means that the composer is not even aware of.

These works are interspersed within a vast collection of atonal works, most of which are, in the best of cases, rational exercises and, in the worst, just fakes aimed at snobs.

Here are some examples of atonal music that I love:

Ligeti Etude 13: “The Devil’s Staircase”

Olivier Messiaen – Quatuor pour la fin du temps (Quartet for the End of Time)

Alberto Ginastera. Piano concerto No.1 Op. 28 (1961) Toccata concertata. (Yes, Keith Emerson also loved this one…)

Juan Bautista Plaza – Sonata for Two Pianos (good example of micro tonality. The tonal center is there, but moving constantly)