MUSIC
IN AN AGE OF TRANSITION
Like art and literature
in the twentieth century, music has reflected a wide variety of approaches and
styles, making for an eclecticism virtually
unprecedented in the entire history of its evolution. Never before have so many different types of
composer existed simultaneously or contemporaneously in the Western world and
provided the interested public with such a wealth of heterogeneous material
from which to choose. One is confronted
by composers as far apart as Berkeley and Stockhausen, Martinu
and Schoenberg, Elgar and Varèse,
Walton and Cage. That in itself should
be sufficient to excite ambivalence, confusion, and scepticism in anyone's
head, were it not also for the fact that, in addition to the marked differences
between different types of so-called serious composer, one is confronted by the
vast differences which accrue to the domain of jazz, both traditional and
modern, and obliged to confess that much of what passes here, to the average
philistine, for a form of light entertainment is in fact a
highly-sophisticated, progressive music which is entitled to be taken seriously
and treated as a viable alternative to certain other types of serious
composition. But in addition to an
outpouring of heterogeneous Western music this century, one is confronted by
musical styles from all other parts of the world - from places as far apart as
Yet we live in an age of transition between two distinct
developments in the history of Western evolution, that is to say, between the
Christian dualistic and the transcendental post-dualistic. According to Arnold J. Toynbee's historical
classifications, the latter has been referred to as the post-modern and
corresponds to an era dating from the last two decades of the nineteenth
century, when the iconoclastic and prophetic Nietzsche gave voice to the
assertion that 'God is dead', thereby proclaiming the end of the Christian
era. In theory, such an assertion is
doubtless justified, having long been common knowledge among the various
intelligentsia of the Western world. In
practice, however, we in the West are still officially living under the
institutional influence of Christianity and cannot therefore speak of the
transcendental, or post-modern, age as officially existing. There are, of course, many aspects of this
most recent development in the history of human evolution which are patently
manifest in the Western world, not least of all in the arts. But although that virtually goes without
saying, the official acknowledgement of a transcendental age has yet to come
about. Consequently we have a right to
speak of an age of transition, whether this is taken to imply a gradual shift
away from dualistic into post-dualistic criteria or, as a possible climax to
this gradualism, the subsequent revolutionary overthrow of Western
civilization, with particular reference to its Christian and democratic
traditions. To speak of a post-modern
age as already officially existing would be to overlook the glaring facts of
contemporary Western life which point to the contrary!
Granted, then, that we are in transition from one development in
the history of Western evolution to another, it becomes less surprising that
there are so many different types of composer in existence, or that their
compositions reflect a wide variety of styles.
The age is not homogeneous but decidedly heterogeneous in its
constitution, which is why such unprecedented variety currently exists. However, I am not saying this is a good
thing; goodness isn't a word that can be applied here. Rather, it marks a stage of Western evolution,
whether or not we approve of the fact.
A tradition in the arts reaches a climax whilst, simultaneously,
a new development begins to get under way.
Roughly, the twentieth century reflects the transition from acoustic
classical music to electronic avant-garde music, from the modern, in Toynbee's
terminology, to the post-modern, from the dualistic to the post-dualistic, from
egocentricity, in subconscious/superconscious
balance, to post-egocentricity, reflecting a superconscious
bias. We are tending, all the while,
towards a more artificial civilization, a civilization comprised of a much
greater degree of superconscious bias than is
currently the case. The fact, however,
of our being in transition means that much of what pertains to the
subconscious, and hence to an egocentric viewpoint, still prevails and will
doubtless continue to do so for some time to-come. We aren't exactly on the point of dispensing
with the large modern orchestra and completely going over to electronics;
though the rising costs of maintaining orchestras may well prove a contributory
element in their eventual demise.
Another element, however, will undoubtedly be our preference for
artificial over naturalistic modes of sound reproduction - a preference which
is already significantly evident among the general and higher proletariat who,
as a rule, prefer electric to acoustic instrumentalists. On the other hand, the Western bourgeoisie
and their middle-class or professional equivalents in totalitarian countries
are the people primarily responsible for maintaining an interest in acoustic
music, as evidenced by bourgeois adherence to the orchestra.
It has often been said that the proletariat are closer to God. What, exactly, does this mean? Or, rather, how can it be interpreted in a
truly contemporary sense? It can be
interpreted, I believe, by reference to my Gnostic/Manichean Weltanshauung, in which evolution
proceeds from A - Z, as it were, in accordance with an aspiration towards a
supreme level of being, otherwise more conventionally regarded as the Supreme
Being. Evolution begins in the Manifold,
as manifested by the diabolic stars, and aspires, through man, towards the Unified,
as will be manifested in the Holy Ghost.
One might speak, echoing Teilhard de Chardin, that great Catholic theologian and man of science,
of a convergence to the Omega Point, a convergence from the Devil to God. Provided one doesn't fall into the trap of
his theology, but rejects all belief in an already-existing Omega Point
comprised, as it were, of the transcendent spirit of the Risen Christ, as derived
from Gospel accounts of the Resurrection, one will be in a position to adopt a
logical, long-term view concerning this convergence to omega, which is
compatible with an aspiration towards the creation of supreme being, and
therefore with a contemporary atheism.
To treat the Resurrection of Christ at face-value, as a literal fact, on
the other hand, would be to fall into an anthropomorphic stance relative to the
Christian myth, rather than to take a stance compatible with a scientific
transcendentalism, such as the age increasingly requires. When it is understood that evolution proceeds
from A - Z, one won't ascribe supernatural significance to a simple carpenter
who lived two-thousand years ago and had no access to an advanced technology -
in other words, to a technology which, by supplanting the natural body with an
artificial support-and-sustain system for the brain, would ultimately make
transcendence possible. On the contrary,
one will endorse the contemporary view that attainment to the transcendental
Beyond is dependent on our will and ability to create it in due course, in
accordance with civilized progress.
Thus the Supreme Being will be regarded as the furthermost
development of which ascending life is capable, and therefore as the
culmination of evolution in the distant future. For supreme beingfulness
can only be the outcome of evolution, not its initiator! To conceive of the Supreme Being, or supreme
level of being, having created the lowest of the low, the most agonized doing
of the stars, is simply madness.
Evolution doesn't begin at the end but works forwards, ever so slowly
and painfully while the going is particularly tough, as it must be the more we
live under nature's dominion. Our goal,
however, is the supernatural, or that which lies above and beyond nature and is
accordingly the most artificial of outcomes to life. It is in this sense of consummate
artificiality that the 'super' of Nietzsche's superman should be understood,
not in any muscular sense of brute strength.
For musclemen are, by and large, a thing of the past - certainly so far
as any serious claim to true superiority is concerned!
Given these aspects of my revolutionary philosophy, it should be
apparent that when we say that the proletariat are closer to God than, for example,
the aristocracy or the bourgeoisie, we are implying a greater approximation on
their part not only to Oneness, to the ultimate spiritual unity which the
Supreme Being would signify, but also to a more artificial state-of-affairs
which can be presumed to exist to a greater extent among them than among their
historical class enemies and/or
commercial exploiters.
Traditionally, the view that the proletariat are closer to God was of course
associated with their comparative poverty in relation to the wealth and
materialistic opulence of the ruling classes.
As transcendent spirit, God is if not at the furthest possible remove
from wealthy property-owning men, then certainly at a
sufficiently far remove from them to grant credence to the theory that the poor
are closer. To some extent, this theory
still holds true; for even in this day and age the proletariat aren't, generally
speaking, wealthy property-owning individuals, but tenanted rent-payers. They may be materially better off, on the
whole, than their less-fortunate predecessors, but they are still far from
wealthy! However, progress does not
require that the proletariat become wealthy in due course; for that would simply
lead to a spiritual regression on their part.
On the contrary, it requires that they become ever more spiritual and
therefore less under the influence of materialism and sensuality. This will doubtless eventually be put into
effect through the assistance of technology.
But, in the short term, it requires the assistance of socialism in order
to ensure moderate means for all in equalitarianism, as opposed to the
perpetuation or resurrection of extremities in elitism.
Returning to the contemporary light thrown by my philosophy on
the relationship of the proletariat to God, one can posit a closer approximation on
their part to the projected Oneness of our hypothetical supreme level of being
on the basis of the fact that they generally live in closer proximity to one
another in bedsitters, flats, terraced houses, etc.,
rather than distant from one another in detached houses, country houses,
mansions, etc., like the bourgeoisie and aristocracy generally do. This is far from saying, of course, that such
a cramped arrangement isn't at times a form of hell on earth for most of those
who are obliged to experience it; but simply to point out that the enforcement
of such a cramped context of living gives rise to a closer approximation to the
future Beyond (of ultimate spiritual unity) than does the prevalence, in
middle-class suburbs, of detached housing, which necessarily reflects
individualistic separateness. The
proletariat, then, are obliged to live closer to the envisaged climax of evolution
than the bourgeoisie. Whether this gives
rise to pleasure or pain is fundamentally irrelevant.
The other aspect of the proletariat being closer to God has to do, as
already intimated, with the artificial and its
relationship to the supernatural. The
average bourgeois lives, you will recall, in a suburban context of complacency
in a partly natural environment. He
isn't cut off from nature in an urban context, like the proletariat, but is
free to cultivate his garden and take pleasure in the gardens belonging to his
neighbours, as well, of course, as in the areas - sometimes quite extensive -
of public land accessible to him. He
wouldn't greatly relish the prospect of having to live in an area of the
nearest big city where there was very little verdure, but is only content in
the semi-rural/semi-urban setting which is suburbia. By contrast, the proletariat do not, in their
bedsitters, flats, terraced houses, etc., have
regular access to all that much land, but are confined to a largely artificial
environment. This is another reason why
they are closer to God than the bourgeoisie; for the Supreme Being would be the
most artificial and supernatural of all existences, having nothing whatsoever
to do with nature. Now the proletariat are
less under nature's sway. Consequently,
they are more susceptible to the artificial, as fostered by the anti-natural
essence of an urban environment, and so aspire, whether consciously or unconsciously,
towards the Supreme Being, in accordance with evolutionary pressures. Of course, they aren't highly artificial at
this juncture in time; for evolution still has a long way to go before it
attains, through man, to a supernatural climax.
But they are certainly in the requisite environmental context for the
furtherance of evolutionary progress in due course. They portend a continuous development.
So what, you may wonder, does all this have to do with music,
the subject with which we began our essay?
The answer to this is frankly that it has a lot to do with music. For only by grasping the significance of
urbanization in relation to the artificial ... can one begin to understand the
revolutionary break with the past which the rise of electric music, of one type
or another, signifies, and why it is therefore plausible for me to contend that
electric music, or music dependent on electricity, signifies a superior
development to acoustic music, and is, by dint of its greater artificiality,
closer to God. Paradoxically, one is
forced to admit that the leading jazz or rock guitarists' wailing electric
sounds, so dear to the proletariat, are a step nearer to God than the acoustic
sounds so dear to the bourgeoisie, which necessarily reflect a more natural state-of-affairs. The electric sounds, by contrast, reflect a
higher stage of civilization.
When one understands that nature stems from the diabolical stellar
roots of the Universe, one will hardly be surprised by the fact that the use of
natural means won't make for a particularly close approximation to the
Divine. On the contrary, one will see
only too clearly that wood, ivory, sheep's gut, horsehair, etc., no matter how
well-shaped or refined upon in the process of transformation, partly or
entirely, into a musical instrument, inevitably preclude the achievement of a
truly transcendental potential in sound, and thereby restrict music to the
relatively humble level of a semi-artificial achievement. The instruments - violins, cellos, pianos,
organs, etc. - may be beautifully made, but they won't be able to escape the
influence of their materials, which stem from nature. Only through the development of synthetic
materials, coupled to the assistance of electricity, can one hope to create
music with a truly transcendental potential, a music which reflects the
influence not of nature but of civilization in a more artificial mode, and is
thus closer to the supremely transcendent climax of evolution in the
supernatural. Only by replacing wood
with such man-made materials as plastic, plexiglas,
fibreglass, perspex, steel, etc., is one likely to
achieve a significant musical aspiration towards the transcendental Beyond, an
aspiration powered, so to speak, by the man-made miracle of electricity. The musicians who perform on synthetic
instruments would stand at a higher level of evolution than those who don't,
creating sounds which could only be described as more civilized, i.e.
indicative of a greater degree of artificiality. Such musicians would be in the best possible
instrumental position to create a spiritual rather than a sensual music, a
transcendental rather than a mundane sound.
And, of course, we have witnessed, with our music-prone ears, plenty of
highly-talented musicians, including Frank Zappa, John McLaughlin, Jean-Luc Ponty, Chick Corea, Jan Hammer,
and Carlos Santana, who have created such music, such a sound in recent decades, to the
greater glory of the age. They have
created this music not, as a rule, through naturalistic means, but through
electric guitars, violins, and keyboards.
Some musicians, including Herbie Hancock and
Patrick Moraz, have even taken to putting their voice
through a synthesizer and thereby transmuting it, rendering it less natural to
the artificially-inclined ears of their musical admirers. Who is to say that this doesn't result in a
more civilized order of singing than purely natural singing? Clearly, the use of artificial means must
have some bearing on the quality or status of the sound being produced. It isn't simply a question of volume, but
also of timbre, tone, resonance. And
where volume and its relation to size is concerned, one might note that the
convergence from the Manifold to the Unified, from the Devil to God, is aptly illustrated
by the preference of electric musicians for small groups rather than large
orchestral-type ensembles. If there is a
reflection of diabolic influence on life about a large orchestra, then there is
certainly something divine about the handful of musicians in a group whose
concerted and finely-integrated electronic sound signifies a greater
approximation to ultimate Oneness. The
proletariat, clearly, are closer to God!
