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Space
Age Music and the Moog
By Susi O'Neill |
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An
exploration of the amazing new electronic pop sound and technology
developed by Robert Moog, Jean-Jacques Perrey and others.
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"Don't
you understand? This is the future!" - Robert Moog to Gershon
Kingsley, 1965. (1)
"After
the success of Switched on Bach (and the subsequent crazed season
of novelty follow-ups from Gershon Kingsley, Jean-Jacques Perrey
and others) there came Keith Emerson's much copied Moog solo on
Emerson Lake and Palmer's Lucky Man, and the Moog organisation -
working with or against the business regime of whoever then owned
it - was able to found its own research and development of the Mini-Moog,
the first single unit integrated synthesizer." (2)
Part One: In the beginning
(1900, early electronics)
The
latter half of the twentieth century has seen the greatest period
of change and development in music, mainly due to the birth of electronic
music, synthesis and wider access to sound recording. The most important
and far reaching technological changes have been born, not out of
academic or institutional research, but from the demands of the
largest consumer group in the music marketplace - commercial and
popular musicians.
The
Italian avant-garde Futurists called for an exploration into the
possibilities of new sound worlds in their 1920s manifestos, for
example Microtonal Harmony (Busoni, 1911) and the breaking of classical
timbres (in Russolo's Art of Noises), and also in their experiments
with 'sound boxes' to produce original and novel sounds. Edgar Varese,
composer of percussive-sonic exploration Ionisation (1936) saw the
scope for 'sound producing machines' that would ultimately lead
to the 'liberation of sound'.
Since
1900, experiments with early electronic instruments were the first
step to realising these possibilities, beginning with the 200 tonne
sand, water and cement constructed Dynamophone (c.1900), the Trautonium
and Mixtur-Trautonium (1930s), used to create horrific bird sounds
in Alfred Hitchcock's film The Birds, the Ondes Martenot (1920s),
sustained through its use in Messiaen's Turangalila Symphony - even
common and household wood saws became popular in Southern America
as a cheap alternative to these new 'eerie' electronic sounds.
However,
aspects of performance were often problematic for musicians used
to the easily comprehended physics of acoustic instruments; players
of electronic instruments were often prone to technical failure
as many were unwilling or unable to learn the complex and unusual
new skills - the most notable example being the infamous theremin,
a 'leap into the future' (Boulez) (3). The theremin was capable
of glissandi, microtones and subtle vibrato and pitch modulation,
controlled using complex hand gestures in an electro-magnetic field,
literally played 'in the ether' without touching the instrument.
A pitch antenna and variable oscillator controlled the pitch and
volume. Its idiosyncratic and quirky sounds and unusual, hypnotic
visual performance led to its immediate popularity, the ethereal
and spooky sounds were heavily exploited in sci-fi films soundtracks
like The Day The Earth Stood Still and Alfred Hitchcock's Spellbound
to suggest space aliens, dementia, paranoia or other worldly qualities,
especially key cinematic musician Samuel J. Hoffman's trademark
'wobble and woo' space-like sound. Ultimately, after its long novelty
phase (popularised from 1930s - 50s), the theremin had an untimely
failing.
Theremin
virtuoso Clara Rockmore improved the public profile of the instrument
with her highly disciplined and beautiful performances. She intended
the theremin to substitute a classical instrument (particularly
her professional instrument, the violin) and she performed works
from the classical canon like Rachmaninov's Vocalise and the technically
complex Cesar Franck's Violin Sonata, in high profile concerts at
Carnegie Hall. "..without her, the theremin would have ended
up as a wacky effect box,' - Lucia Pamela (4). However, in the pre-mass
media and television age, her very limited number of performances
could have little success in the international opinion of the theremin
as a novelty instrument.
The
Hammond organ was the first instrument to succeed commercially,
due to its conservatism of sound and design. Intended to imitate
a church organ, the design was uncluttered using a conventional
keyboard that was easy to master to good effect. Recession, lack
of funding and distribution, the Great Depression of the 1930s and
World War II caused the premature death of many of these innovative
devices. This was no era for sonic experimentation, and neither
funders nor the general public were yet ready for these sound producing
futurist machines.
However,
it was not musicians who were to change the future of music, but
engineers. In the late 1940s/50s, engineers Harry Olson and Herbert
Belar produced a machine based on random probability, which would
be capable of creating melodies based on the folk songs of Stephen
Foster. It used Sixteen Function Binary Selection and pitch sequencing,
but the device failed miserably in its intention, as the machine
was incapable of determining characteristics that only a human ear
can - idiosyncrasies of form, structure and melody. Olson and Belar
intended this prototype synthesizer not to explore new sonic worlds
yearned for by the avant-garde, but to reproduce the conventional.
The result - a series of seemingly random notes and bleeps. Their
prototype synthesizer was eagerly seized by the intellectual music
academia of Princeton University and premiered in 1956 as the RCA
MK 1 in Columbia, USA, and later co-owned by the Princetown/Columbia
University foundation and given a massive $175,000 grant by the
university to develop.
Programmability
gave new computer technology unprecedented advantages over Musique
Concrete in speed of operations, flexibility and parametric control.
The capabilities of the RCA Mk I and its follow up, the MK II, is
epitomised in Serialist composer Subotnik and engineer Buchla's
seminal work, Silver Apples On The Moon (1967), the first work to
be commissioned for record rather than live performance. A 'studio
art' work, they believed it could be played (via a phonogram) by
anybody. Subotnik believed that using both programmed and random
parameters allowed him complete artistic control, "
the
flexibility to score some sections of the piece in the traditional
sense; and to mould other like a piece of sculpture." (5).
The Voltage Controlled Synthesizer allowed for evolving timbres
during a single note duration, making possible "sustained yet
transforming streams of sound" (6).
These
often uncontrollable machines allowed for the 'freak out' factor
desired by East Coast 1960s avant-gardists, bored by the limitations
of classical musicians who "
will produce a predictable
sound given a specific instruction, " - Brain Eno (7). Dogmatic
composers like Stockhausen, who demanded complete control over every
musical parameter, found the ability to control and sculpt sounds
as an individual sonic artist the perfect completion of his aesthetics.
The new technology created a tension between the will to master
it and the threat of the machine slipping from human control ('Man
Machine' theory, first seen in Fritz Lang's Metropolis, which permeated
much 60s and 60s film and literature, e.g. Arthur C. Clarke's The
Nine Billion Names Of God story).
However,
the avant-garde Classicists 'experiments' were purposefully veiled
in secrecy; the general public excluded, concerts invite only. When
Milton Babbitt was asked to justify his work to High Fidelity magazine
in 1958, he insisted their work was purely 'research'. The article
was mockingly titled 'Who cares if you listen?'. The division between
'ivory tower' research and public acceptance of academia-based music
is still as predominant today. Perhaps this is an indication of
the academia's lack of will, need or desire to market their work
to the public, which they fear may damage notions of 'integrity'
and stunt creative development; mass acceptance being a low second
priority to securing funding.
Part Two: The saviour is born
(Robert Moog)
From
this backdrop of elitism came New York engineer Robert Moog (b.
1934) who in 1949, fascinated by the then archaic and deceased theremin,
decided to construct his own. In 1954 he designed a D.I.Y. theremin
kit and took to the road as a theremin salesman, partly in order
to subsidise his studies in Engineering Physics at Cornell University
from 1958-9. In 1961, his transistorised redesign of the theremin
was the cover features of Electronics World.
The
transistor transformed and accelerated the birth of the computer
revolution, computers the size of office blocks became small enough
for business, and later, domestic use. Moog, working with Herb Deutsch,
first realised the possibilities for transistor technology in music
to create portable, modular components, allowing customers to 'pick
n' mix' components to cater for their specific needs.
The
philosophy of Robert Moog was to make electronic music performable
and available to mainstream (non-academic) musicians, in response
to the academic musical elitism, "if it is Art it is not for
all, and if it is for all, it is not Art." (Shoenberg) (8).
Moog was never 'pro-academia' or 'pro-pop' but simply 'pro-music'.
His first customers were the Columbia-Princetown students, fascinated
by the superior technology of his keyboard based Modular Moog. Initially,
neither a composer nor a musician, Moog thought of music in 'inclusive'
terms to appeal to all, accommodating conventional elements for
traditional musicians (e.g. keyboards, set pitches) and also experimental
elements (e.g. real time parameter control, patching, portamento)
- a wealth of sound possibilities for the avant-garde composers.
"
the composer's freedom to extemporise was well catered
for with the analogue equipment of the 1970s." (9). Other engineers
were designing prototype synthesizers e.g. ARP who used Pin Matrix
non-flexible systems, but these were not as critically revelled
as the Moog Modular 'flexible' systems, and thus the Moog Modular
became the industry standard in sound synthesis.
Initailly, Moog received little subsidy or support, working in a
disused, ramshackle gelatine factory producing 'cottage industry'
handmade Moog Modulars. The basic components of the Moog Voltage
Controlled Synthesizer are filter, oscillator, amplifier, ring modulator,
mixer (for voltage), envelope generator and white noise generator.
Typically, they would have three waveforms - square, triangle and
sine - in addition to pink and white noise generators, filters including
'glide' function (to control glissandi), L.F.O. and various high/mid/low
pass filters. The Moog treated pure sounds as an element, reproducing
actual sound without storage or manipulation.
Moog
himself was a natural entrepreneur - a good businessman and a free
spirited intellectual. His theories on 'democratisation' through
technology (i.e. microprocessor technology allowing faster and cheaper
synthesizer manufacture, thus involving more musicians in sound
synthesis and gradually lowering the price 'pyramid' for synthesizers,
musicians becoming 'consumers' of music) pioneered the success of
electronic music in both the pop and avant-garde marketplace. Moog's
non-musical business background gave him this 'sensitivity to the
marketplace that he might have lacked had he remained only in the
service of the university based music community." (10).
Chuck
Leavell, Moog's main salesman, pioneered synthesizer sales with
Moog's principles of
'democratisation' by touring music stores with the Moog Modular,
taking it directly to musicians, coaxing them to listen to these
new electronic sounds. This 'word of mouth' principle led to the
East Coast Moog craze around 1967. Like Leon Theremin with Clara
Rockmore, Moog realised the importance of using good musicians and
personalities to publicise his instrument, artists who record sales
would exceed any specialist 'electronic' publication. His well-placed
posturing with Keith Emerson, George Harrison, Stevie Wonder and
other early Moog disciples helped to dispel the image of synthesizer
owners as lab scientists (e.g. Milton Babbit's 'research') and established
synthesis as cool, fashionable, and the future sound in popular
music.
In
1968, Moog he embarked on a recording project which would increase
the popularity of the Moog synthesizer a thousand-fold. Switched
on Bach by Walter Carlos, a collection of J.S. Bach 'hits' played
on the Modular Moog, was a surprise smash selling a million copies
worldwide. It succeeded due to the inspired musicality of Carlos
(a former Princetown-Columbia student), inventing sublime nuances
and tone colours from the synthesizer while genuinely reinventing
Bach's music in ways the composer could never have foreseen. It
appealed to a mass audience by staying true to the original music
and tonality, never moving too far into 'freaky' electro-sounds
or avoiding the common persuasion to add other 'pop' instruments.
In 1969, the year of the moon landing and the 'summer of love',
the world went Moog crazy with thousands of Carlos-style take offs.
Musicians, good, bad and indifferent made use of this "shiny
new toy" (Boulez) (11). Titles like Moog Espagna, Moog-a-go-go
and The Plastic Cow Goes Mooooog! Monopolised record shops, cashing
in on the liberating 'democratisation' its inventor had worked so
hard to establish.
The
next move - the unveiling of the Mini-Moog in 1971, the first truly
portable synthesizer. With a three and a half octave keyboard, pitch
wheels and headphone adapter, it contained most of the effects of
the Modular Moog without the need for complex patching. Buttons,
dials and knobs for 'real time' control allured boffins and intellectuals.
Ideal for practice, portable enough to carry and cheaper than a
full Modular, it was the obvious choice for live musicians, a completion
of Moog's 'democratisation' principle. In 1968, R.A. Moog changed
its name to Moog Music to emphasise performance, and was later bought
up and re-named Big Briar Inc., leading to the worldwide production,
distribution and marketing of the Moog synthesizer brand.
Part Three: And then there was lounge
The
Moog in the period 1969 -1973 played an important role in the advent
of Easy Listening music, also know later as High Fidelity, Airport,
Elevator, Space Age Bachelor Pad, Cocktail, Lounge or Mood Music.
As
early as 1888, Edward Bellamy published the paper Look Backward
2000 -1887, predicting the future society which would contain, "an
arrangement for providing everybody with music in their homes, perfect
in quality, unlimited in quantity, suited to every mood, beginning
and ceasing at will. " (12). By the 1940s, '78s' fanatics were
enraged with the popularity of the 33 1/3 long player, which they
believed encouraged laziness as one had to change records, and thus
concentrate, far less. These crackly short '78s' provided a music
that could never be background. A decade later, Arthur Haddy developed
High Fidelity, which used three way high/mid/low frequency speakers
to replace heavy iron needles with coils, and 'double' grooves (the
45/45 system) allowed for extending crackle-free listening. Engineers
and marketers used technology as a means to market 'lifestyle' (Lounge)
records, which used this new technology, originally developed for
cinema sound. Record sleeves described the technological marvel
of the disc parcelled within, with complex diagrams and descriptions
of the recording process and microphone placement intended to impress
listeners, the all-knowing tone suggesting, "we know a lot
of things you don't. Trust us - buy this record, it's a technical
marvel." (13). The advent of stereo promised consumers "spectacular
sonic illusion of motion, directionality and depth" (14), selling
impressive looking Stereo Demonstration LPs with the new designers
stereo systems. The marketers' message was punctuated loud and clear:
BUY STEREO, IT WILL CHANGED YOUR LIFE.
The
public's fascination with aural space coincides with academics fascination
with opening up 2 and 3D sound possibilities. In his 1985 book,
On Sonic Art, Trevor Wishart defines landscape as 'virtual acoustic
space'. He argues that stereo is capable of emotional changes, behind
as mysterious or sinister, left/right motion suggesting dialogue,
swift stereo transition suggests energy. "Characteristics of
spatial behaviour play a crucial part in an interpretation of sound
morphologies." (15)
The
1950s was a period of great change in society, particularly in America;
sailors returned from the war in Hawai'I as international travel
became affordable, the media focused on the domestic and 'ideal
home', the baby boom was blossoming, consumer spending was at an
all time high and the space race was beginning. With this idealistic
and aesthetic outlook, Big Band arrangers, who had fallen from fashion,
turned to recording often poppy or jazzy versions of Tin Pan Alley
standards, Big Band numbers and popular contemporary songs from
the Hit Parade. Mainly instrumental, hard rhythms were often replaced
by soft strings, tempos rarely exceeded 72 b.p.m, with an undertone
that whispered 'relax'. The roots of Lounge also derive from the
background music played by pianists or small ensembles in expensive
diners (or lounges). Lounge recordings initially intended to replicate
this music in a quasi-sophisticated domestic environment.
Lounge
is now often used as a blanket term for all of these 'low' or non-classifiable
recordings from 1955 - 75, but, like its many names, it is a rich
and varied form including sub-genres like sci-fi and film soundtracks,
tax evasion LPs by celebrities (.g. Senator Adam Clayton's 'Keep
the Faith'), dance genres like mambo and cha-cha-chas, 'exotic'
world-influenced music and original songwriters like Bacharach and
David.
Most
music in this period was inferior, the aural equivalent of a B-Movie,
concerned with musical commodity and quantity over quality; like
Andy Warhol's endless bored repetitions (e.g. White Car Crash, 1968),
the 'authentic' products is undermined in its value, confirming
critic Adorno's worst fears that recorded music, "
encourages
alienated, narcotised listening" (16). Composers were motivated
by making a fast buck, part of the 'culture industry' (Adorno).
Music
as a background feature is by no means a new concept, in fact, it
could be argued that 'secular' background music (for feasts, theatre
and merry making) has been prevalent since the very start of music
as we know it. Twentieth century examples of background music include
the Palm Court Orchestra, jazz clubs and Eric Satie's 'furniture
music', "
a music designed to satisfy 'useful' needs,
furniture music creates a vibration; it has other goal, it fills
the same role as light or heat." (Satie) (17).
Lounge
music was indeed 'unlimited in quantity' and 'suited to every mood'
('music to eat dinner by' 'music to drink cocktails by, 'music to
fill in the uncomfortable pauses in conversations by'
); the
clarity of High Fidelity allowed music to become truly background,
part of Satie's musical furniture, though maybe not quite the all-inclusive
utopia that Bellamy had prophesised in 1888.
In
its defence, Lounge was not a purely functional music. The genre
gave rise to what is arguably some of the most beautiful and superbly
recorded music of the twentieth century. Songwriters like Serge
Gainsbourg and Burt Bacharach (the personification of the ideal
bachelor) are now recognised as premier songwriters of their generation,
who shed the rock drums, backbeat, and 'Mod' look of contemporary
pop stars and favoured smart suits, slick haircuts, fast cars and
high living ('cocktail' culture). Much of this music defies its
own formula, being far from 'easy', it is instead complex, densely
orchestrated and often, "contains contagious rhythms that stop
conversation and compel listeners to get up and dance!" (18).
John
Barry, composer of the James Bond soundtracks, was seen as a rebel
against Big Band music with his bold and sinister orchestration,
a rock quartet added to usual orchestral instruments. Mantovani
went to great expense to record arrangements of classic songs, choosing
the popular and familiar to highlight his changes in recordings
and arrangement. Esquivel, composer of the Peal and Dean 'theme'
used in cinema multiplexes, was regarded as a 'pop avant-gardist'
(19) for reinventing the human voice as an instrument. Vocal sounds
like 'zu-zu-zu' and 'Pow! Pow!' replacing the expected trumpet or
glockenspiel solo. Martin Denny, composer of the Exotica album,
combined Hawaiian and Latin rhythms and percussion with an all-American
sentiment, 'apple pie with a hint of mango' (20).
Lounge
emphasised the regeneration of post-war society, creating images
of global culture, family ideals, the bachelor or 'playboy', and
the exotic, representing the 'suspended space of the traveller"
(21), voyaging between continents with the simple turn of a record.
It is also, as the popular record label name suggests, 'music for
pleasure', suggesting exciting possibilities for freedom and escapism,
"
a world of possibilities, life in the fast lane set
to xylophone and flute." (22). A diluted form, Lounge took
traditional, modern and exotic elements and mixed them up, like
a cocktail, to be easily digested by the masses. At the time shunned
by hipsters as 'too perfect' (e.g. Mantovani), it was a pure form
appealing to the middle-aged, too old to rock n' roll, but in possession
of an expensive new stereo system.
Part Four: A note on Musak
Since
the invention of the Dynamophone which intended to bring music into
businesses via telegraph lines, Musak has played a vital part in
the social and physiological fabric of western society. Piped music,
to the annoyance of many, is everywhere. Developed by General George
Squire in 1922, Musak was monopolised during World War II, used
in factories to affect physiological systems by using 'scientifically
calibrated bio-rhythmic cycles', e.g. upbeat until coffee break,
relaxation before lunch (differing according to industry), always
aimed at increasing worker productivity.
Musak has now infiltrated every aspect of westernised culture, Musak
was pumped into the Apollo space flight, when a B-25 bomber crashed
into the Empire State Building trapping victims inside the elevator,
the Musak still played on. Lanles describes some of the more positive
physiological effects of Musak:
"When
I saw Star Wars, at a key moment, the reel broke and the theatre
lights went on. People were furious and a crescendo of hooting filled
the hall. Suddenly, the lights went off, the Musak started and everyone,
me included, turned around and waited for the movie to resume."
(23).
Although
much mocked and parodied (including a wonderful scene in Steve Martin's
spoof comedy film The Jerk where the hero, white, middle class but
growing up in a hip black family, hears supermarket music and thinks,
"It speak to me! This is the kind of music that tells me to
go out there and be somebody!"), background Musak, be it popular,
classical or 'supermarket', gives westerners cues for living - to
buy, to go, to stay, to talk. The worker productivity of the factory
Musak now takes the form of improving our consumer productivity,
i.e. encouraging us to spend more by either browsing longer to make
that purchase, or turning around the tables more rapidly in a fast
food restaurant. Lounge, particularly 'Mood' music, made great use
of Musak's psychology in creating Musak for the home, which could
be simultaneously ambient, meditative, sensual, or vivacious - simply
select, from the thousands of titles available, music for your desired
mood.
Part Five: The amazing New Electronic Pop Sound
Jean-Jacques
Perrrey (b. 1929, France), a 'combined musician and scientist' (24)
met George Jenny, inventor of the Ondioline in 1952 whilst at medical
school. Soon struck by his 'little demon of music' he quit medical
school to become a composer, 'a creator' (25) while selling Ondiolines
and doing cabaret with the Ondioline in his show Around The World
In 80 Ways. His music combines experiments with electronics, Musique
Concrete, Musak, commercial and popular music in ways never conceived
of before and never successfully imitated afterwards.
Perrey
briefly studied tape loop technique with Pierre Schaeffer at the
Studio for Contemporary Music Research in Paris. His work functions
both in conjunction with and in reaction to academic theory, making
use of the art-relais technique of bricolage, primitive use of near
to hand sources, in Perrey's creation of psychotic, witty and irreverent
tape loops, whilst delivering slating attacks on the 'esoteric'
and 'serious' musical avant-garde, thus establishing him as an outsider
and deviant. "The possibilities of electronic sonorities were
still being explored in a most limited way in 'serious music,' listened
to largely by an elite of initiates, music devotees and concert-goers."
- Perrey (26)
Like
Moog's 'democratisation', Perrey realised the power of the popular
and commercial in reaching a wider, mass audience to develop technology,
working as an 'inventor' alongside the studio engineers. Two key
aspects affected Perrey's compositions; Perrey the 'scientist' and
Perrey the 'composer': his medical background lead to his experiments
with music for sleep, in 1957 recording the medically acclaimed
Prelude to Sleep, helping thousands of insomniacs into deeper sleep
through hypnotic and relaxing sounds, a positive extension of Musak
theory. He has also worked, throughout his career, studying dolphins
as part of the process of understanding how sound effects sleep.
Perhaps the most important aspect of Perrey's music is his 'message
of humour' (27). Perrey saw music and humour as two healing forces
in the corrupt modern world, "humour will save the world, and
I say this in all seriousness. Humour must be approached very seriously.
" (28). Unlike Schaeffer and the French avant-garde, for Perrey,
music was not fiercely intellectual, drenched in meaning, emotionally
challenging and elitist, but offered the world an aesthetic of fun.
"This is the age of electronics. Why should it not add to the
pleasures of life?" (29).
Perrey
was shrewder than many of his contemporaries, like Robert Moog,
he realised that to have his music financed, realised and produced,
it was necessary to be part of 'the system'. Endorsed and encouraged
by celebrity friends like Walt Disney, Edith Piaf and Jean Cocteau
(who described him as 'a pioneer with a mission' (30)), Perrey travelled
to America to have his research and composition generously subsidised
by Edith Piaf's friend, Carol Bratmann.
"I
told him (Schaeffer) I was going to America to develop the process
(tape loops) in a humorous way, to get closer to the Anglo-Saxon
public. I had his benediction." - Perrey (31).
In
his 'alchemical laboratory of sounds' (32), Perrey worked extensively,
collecting over 3000 sound sources, and manipulating them on tape
using studio techniques such as filtering, pitch-speed shifts, reversal
and multi-tracking to create both 'real' sounds and those which
were 'practically unidentifiable' (33) (Schaeffer's 'l'objet sonore'
theory). His library, like those of 'serious' composers, was catalogued
according to parameter (attack, envelope etc.) then painstakingly
spliced to produce "calculating patterns using repetitive loops
and sequences for a new style of rhythmic sequences." (34).
By
utilising typical Musique Concrete sources like machine and animal
noises and combining with lighter pops, clicks and whirrs, Perrey
was able to produce complex and humorous loops which, by adding
Moog, Ondioline and percussion, formed the basis of his 'humoristic
and unusual' (35) compositions. Working commercially composing for
TV adverts, jingles and cartoon, the advertisers and general public's
lust for new, space age electronic sounds gave Perrey, Moog and
others license to experiment with electronics for commercial revenue.
His lively personality and stage presence made him a great TV personality
with the American audiences, who loved his 'European' humour and
accent.
Often working collaboratively with composers and arrangers like
Harry Breur and Angelo Badalamenti, Perrey's real breakthrough came
after 1964 with two collaborative albums with Gershon Kingsley -
The In Sounds from Way Out and Kaleidoscopic Vibrations. Kingsley
was also a pioneer of electronic composition with his First Moog
Quartet (1969, Carnegie Hall) and Concerto For Moog (1970, commissioned
by the Boston Pops Orchestra). In 1972, shortly after the issue
of the Mini-Moog, Kingsley release the advert single Popcorn, a
classically orientated pop tune which went on to become the biggest
instrumental hit of the 70s and an inspiration for over 500 cover
versions. Popcorn succeeded musically on many levels: its crisp
'pop' sound suited the Moog perfectly whilst sympathetically imitating
the real sound of popcorn, coupled with a catchy melody, much loved
and often imitated. Kingsley and his Moog were also occasionally
involved with the avant-garde, doing 'happenings' with composer
John Cage and choreographer Merce Cunningham. Like Perrey, Kingsley
also detested 'classicist' values: 'I was always aware that the
word 'avant-garde' has 'derriere-garde' built into it.' - Kingsley
(36). He became fascinated by Perrey's experimental use of tape
loops, "I head - boom-chuck-a-oom-chuck-squea- oo-chuck - it
made me laugh." (37).
Perrey's
real creative breakthrough came directly after his work with Kingsley
when he began to find his true voice as an original composer in
his two solo albums The Amazing New Electronic Sound of Jean-Jacques
Perrey (1968, Vanguard records) and Moog Indigo (1970, Vanguard
records). Working more autonomously, Perrey and his arrangers and
producers were able to create more controlled sounds using the Moog
and produce radiant multi track arrangements of Perrey's finest
compositions.
So
what is it that sets Perrey's work aside from thousand of other
inferior Lounge artists? Although much of the material on his LPs
are cover version or parodies of popular melodies, Perrey, like
Mantovani, makes the listener appreciated the melodies in a new
often subversive light, e.g. Frere Jean-Jacques uses the traditional
nursery rhyme, adding electronic, loops and humorous sounds allowing
'tradition' to be seen in a new, modern light. Other sources, like
those of Lounge, come from the exotic (Brazilian Flower), space
age (The Little Girl From Mars), dance forms (Country Rock Polka),
popular (Mister James Bond), 'standards' (Hello Dolly!) and popular
classical (Flight of the Bumblebee), whilst retaining originality
and an ear for experimentation.
Flight
of the Bumblebee, historically his most important work, uses many
kilometres of recording from inside a Swiss beehive, painstakingly
splicing and editing the tape and adding pitch shifts to produce
melodic singing bees, in a work that pre-dates the first sampler
by fifteen years. His success was also due to the optimism of the
times and acceptance and funding of experimentation in the arts,
a 'golden age' for electronic music. 'Humour sparked in the music
of the 60s like champagne.' (38).
Perrey
continues to influence generations of new musicians. His theories
of 'electronic for all' are now in practice, with technology becoming
ever cheaper and popular enough for 'bedroom electonisists' to experiment
with a vast palate of sound possibilities. Perrey claims to have
had a dream in 1969, whilst recording Moog Indigo, where his deceased
'guardian angel' Jean Cocteau visited him and told him he must record
a track that will be recognised in the year 2000. 27 years later
in 1996, E.V.A. from the Moog Indigo L.P was remixed by DJ Premier,
six years after the publication of an interview with Perrey in the
influential Incredibly Strange Music journal, marking the start
of Perrey's renaissance. E.V.A. continues to be covered and sampled
by artists like Fat Boy Slim and rapper Ice-T: "For me it's
an honour, it's very gratifying, sampling is becoming part of the
music's life." - Perrey (39). He continues to tour university
and theatres. At a 1997 performance at the Midland Arts Centre in
Birmingham, he carried out an onstage tape looping and splicing
demonstration within a comic routine, bringing Schaeffer's theories
to the 'masses' using humour. He is still heavily involved with
the Ondioline and Moog ('robots with souls' (40)) and he is able
to see the idiosyncrasies within his own work. 'There are three
kinds of music - good, bad, and mine.' (41).
Part Six: Death of a Salesman
During
the period 1975 - 1991, there was a lull in popularity and production,
and finally extinction of the Moog Synthesizer and Lounge music.
The reasons for this were four-fold:
firstly the 'overkill' of Moog and other Lounge LPs in the 70s,
many poorly recorded and packaged, "the repetition of sounds
everyone was so crazy about were actually quite boring when the
novelty wore off," - Walter Carlos (42). 'Music to drive by',
'music to read James Bond by'
it seemed that no aspect of every
day living could not be repackaged into a 'music to
' style
record. The composers had little say over the way records were marketed;
many were often sold with attractive, semi-naked women adorning
the covers. 'I don't care if they call my records 'music to have
a shit by' as long as they put my music out' - Esquivel (43).
Secondly,
many of the original synthesizer manufacturers like ARP, Moog Music
and Kurzweil went bankrupt in the early 70s due to financial mismanagement
and tough competition from new markets. Robert Moog himself was
put under undue pressure to release the first polyphonic Moog (PolyMoog)
ahead of competitors. Designs were plagued with faults and returned
by angry customers to the stories in the hundreds.
Thirdly,
the social and political optimism of the 60s and 70s gave way to
economic downturn and the uncompromising Reagan and Thatcher regimes
in America and Britain. Humorous music and records for 'lifestyle'
became redundant as the Punks in 1976 were waiting to kick in the
expensive and elitist Moog synthesizers as owned by 'rock dinosaurs'
like E.L.P, Rick Wakeman and Pink Floyd. (The Sex Pistol's Johnny
Rotten infamously strode down the King's Road in Chelsea wearing
a T-shirt emblazoned with the words 'I hate Pink Floyd'). Once again,
guitars became the musical weapons of this new generation of rockers.
Significantly, by the early 80s Japan was becoming the centre for
technological development. Corporate manufacturers like Casio, Yamaha
and Roland, tired with making motorbikes and calculators, had moved
on to exploring and developing digital, polyphonic synthesis. With
huge teams, immense financial backing and superior technology, the
Japanese were able to swiftly capture the market in mass producing
cheap synthesizers, which would truly 'democratise' electronic music
on a global scale. The 'cottage industry' instruments built by individual
like Moog gave way to corporate Japan. In 1970, it took Moog alone
six months and 300 transistors to produce the 12,000 selling Mini-Moog.
In the 1980s in took twenty men three years and 300 million transistors
to construct the first Korg Wavestation, selling 200,000 units in
just three years (44).
The
'analogue' pure synthesis of the early synthesizers was scoffed
at by the new technologists; Moogs were discarded, demolished and
made their way, with Lounge LPs, to the giant music bargain bin
in the sky (or more typically, a car boot sale). As CDs, the new
'high fidelity' became the standard audio format towards the late
80s, the music industry encouraged consumers to throw out their
archaic vinyl. Many of the original Lounge LPs became obsolete or
destroyed. Musicians struggled to get to grips with what, as they
were led to believe, was the superior 'pre-programmed' technology
of buttons activating samples of instruments to replace patching.
Initially difficult to achieve any variety within the limited range
of sounds, the 1980s became renowned musically for repetitive sounds
- a transitory period in music and music technology. Aesthetic experimentation
was exchanged for convenience, low cost and ultimately corporate
profit. "
there is no philosophy in the major synthesizer
industry today, it's all about making money. " - Edgar Froese
(45). However, the dominant Japanese market has allowed for 'flexible
accumulation' - the displacement of Fordian production values, allowing
for companies to explore less profitable specialist markets to develop
future technology.
Part seven: The miracle of re-birth
From
1991 to present, both Space Age Music and the Moog have undergone
a curious period of revival, popularity and change, asserting the
Re:Search publications 'rubbish' theory that everything, no matter
how seemingly lowly, will return once more in its counterculture
glory (46), e.g. 70s disco, Thunderbirds, James Bond movies. The
'analogue freaks' and 'vinyl junkies' mocked during the 80s who
held true to their archaic formats, maintain that these swift changes
in technology were making music more impure. Ironically, re-mastered
CDs were trying to clean up recordings which, like Rock n Roll itself,
were essentially impure to start with. In recent years, experts
have conceded that the 'indestructible' CD is, in fact, easily prone
to damage, and digital processing via its method of bit (selective
quantity) sampling and sound compression is impeding the 'pure sound'
reproduction as used by older analogue technology. Dolby, in its
removal of hiss, filters off frequencies that can destroy the natural
reverberation and timbral qualities of the sound, leaving in its
place a slightly 'cold' synthetic or disembodied 'virtual' sound.
"Digital is too exact, analogue spikes add a factor of minute
randomness to the waves that give the impression of being 'alive'.
" (47). Many musicians now seek alternative to the corporate
and regimented pre-programmed keyboards typified by pre-programmed
synthesizers, which in the process of liberating the composer from
the barriers of technology, have limited his access to timbral variety.
Moog
and his machines are once again in fashion, a good condition Mini-Moog
can fetch up to $8000, and groups like Moog Coobook are reinventing
their own curious variant on Lounge music. "The name Moog will
remain synonymous with the synthesizer because it was the first."
(48). Analogue synthesists are now considered to be musicians proper,
as like an acoustic instrument, the musician determines the production
of sound, a sound which some believe has a human characteristic
of its own, what Ralf Hutter (Kraftwerk) calls an 'acoustic mirror'.
'As soon as you put a different person in front of the synthesizer
it's very responsive to the different vibration." (49). Some
even believe synthesizer sounds connect closely with nature e.g.
wind and sea sounds that can have stimulating, healing and calming
properties. "The organic, orgasmic energy can be quite a moving
experience." (50).
The
combination of digital and analogue technology (e.g. analogue sounds
sampled into MIDI samplers, like the new MIDI compatible Ethervox
theremin designed by Bob Moog) is now seen as the way towards combing
sonic exploration with modern convenience and fidelity of processing
and control. Synthesizer corporations like Roland are now intentionally
adding 'analogue' warmth as a marketing feature of their digital
synthesizers, a return to the benefits of warmth and 'real time'
parameter controls. "
we were on the threshold of new
sounds in the 60s, we may be on the threshold now of new ways of
controlling sound." - Robert Moog (51). Pop groups like The
Shamen, The Prodigy and Fat Boy Slim (in his 1997 club hit, 'Everybody
Needs A 303', advocating the use of early drum machines), combine
vintage analogue with modern technology for wholly contemporary
sounding records.
Moog's 'democratisation' has taken on a tri-partie process of initiation,
after cheaper microprocessor technology, synthesizers began to use
internal and external memories for sound production and sound reproduction,
leading to a decrease in need for programming ability for synthesists,
thereby synthesizer owners have become 'consumers' of pre-purchased
sounds. MIDI too has offered consumers a standardisation between
instruments, allowing sound to become an internationally recognised
standard.
Most
significantly, since the late 1980s, the public, from the youth
upwards, have become more susceptible to electronic music and even
very complex, avant-garde electronic sounds. The rave and hardcore
culture stemming from clubs in Chicago, Amsterdam, Manchester and
New York in this period created hypnotic effects to make the participants
dance to the sound of electronic bleeps, beats and pulses - not
a world away from the sounds of Moog's synthesizers and Perrey's
tape loops.
The obsolete electronic oddity the theremin has also undergone its
third period of revival, some believe due to the publication of
a D.I.Y. theremin guide by Maplin's Electronics and also a TV documentary
about the extraordinary life of its inventor, Theremin: An Electronic
Odyssey by filmmaker Steven M. Martin. According to Moog, these
earlier electronic devices have never been seriously credible, always
treasured for their quirky novelty. 'It is in such un-seriousness
that the peculiar forces of these devices resides
they remain
exotic even deep in electronic music territory.' (52).
As
all things come full circle, Lounge too has undergone its own inexplicable
revival. In a movement in part initiated in America by the Re/Search
foundation, 'Lounge' night clubs are appearing all over Britain,
America and Western Europe, politically placing the 'background'
music into the main arena in venues such as Club Velvet (Minneapolis),
Madame JoJos (London), the Leopard Lounge (San Francisco) and Klub
Catusi (Birmingham, UK), which was the subject of a 1998 Channel
4 documentary, '
an oasis in the dance orientated or mainstream
indie clubs
' (53). This 'incredibly strange music' appeals
with its naïve, exotic and kooky attributes by defying the
slogans of pop, politics and image imposed by the 80s music like
rap, Live Aid and Billy Bragg, and instead offers relaxation and
escapism, with a nod, wink and laugh at the luridly inappropriate
tackiness of the form, a 'fresh source of sonic balm for the 90s'
(54).
Lounge
is, however, not a revival movement appropriated by its survivors
but by their grandchildren, the 18 - 30 youth who, not purely as
an 'ironic' statement are, in all sincerity, discovering the endless
charm, variety and beauty of this 'lost' music:
"The
'retro' phenomenon in the past decade has taken a number of different
guises, ranging form simple revivation to highly sophisticated forms
of revaluation that frustrate traditional notions of irony and parody."
(55).
Unlike
other popular music fans, there are two distinctly separate sub-cultural
groups who appear to be perpetuating the phenomenon, firstly the
typically beatnik 25 - 40 generation, typically working class, fans
of rock and alternative music, and another 18 - 30 new 'lad' and
'ladette' culture group lead by media figure like Chris Evans (who
used 'theme from man in a suitcase' and 'the pretenders' in his
beery show for lads TFI Friday), a more debonair side to the rough
'laddism' of the Gallagher brothers (Oasis) etc. appropriating the
style with pseudo-glamorous irony. Also in this set, half parody
half serious publications like The Chap magazine, with its covers
of 1950s men in knitted sweaters and pipes, attempt to add new glamour
and cool to the values of cocktail culture.
Popular and underground groups like Stereolab use Moog and Farfisa
organs in albums like Space Age Bachelor Pad Music which act as
a re-evaluative 'homage'; they have even sampled Jean-Jacques Perrey
in their songs. Bristol's Portishead sample Lounge music and theremin
and add a melancholic Trip Hop beat, epitomised in their hit record
Glory Box. French duo Air combine ambient moods, 80s/90s camp disco,
Moogs and vocoders in their creation of 'timeless' melodies, and
they have collaborated with Jean-Jacques Perrey in working on film
soundtracks.
Even Birmingham, England, has developed its own unique and prospering
lounge revival, with a number of lounge-infused bands growing from
and working in the hip suburb of Moseley, a 60s mecca for 'alternative'
and hippy culture which has never rid itself of its self-imposed
'retro' culture. The dingy bed-sits deep in oppressive urban territory
these bands inhabit is an unusual paradox to the escapist glamour
of original 'jet set' lounge culture, and is perhaps part of the
complex politicised revisiting of Lounge, contrasting the exotic
and sophisticated with the lowly and cheap commodity it has become;
'High Fidelity' transformed into 'Lo Fi (delity)'.
Most
notable examples are the band Plone who 'mix cranky old anlogue
gear with fancy new computers for some exemplary Space Age Exotica.'
(56), the enigmatic and elegant Broadcast, fusing elements such
as Serge Gainsbourg, John Barry and Ennio Morricone with modern
breaks and sounds, to create a seductive pallet of 1990s 'mood'
music, "
a big box of dark bitter chocolates, a couple
of packs of French cigarettes, smudged with lipstick and faded dark
wallpaper," (57). Perhaps most exemplary of all things easy
are Pram, who combine child-like Fisher Price instruments with rare
analogue gear like the Mini-Moog, theremin and Omnichord, throwing
in conventional pop and orchestral instruments to create intentionally
retrogressive music which is simultaneously kitsch, relaxing and
ominous - 'sauntering rhythms that suggest cocktail lounge music
with clanging and bubbling replacing smooth string arrangements,'
(58). The results are not unlike Perrey's subversion of Lounge music
replacing strings with tape loops. 'If you don't find Pram a little
scary then you're obviously not listening hard enough.' (59).
By
combining analogue equipment and Lounge with modern influences,
these groups negate their own idiosyncratic styles, neither popular
nor mainstream, unlike the original Lounge music, and divorced from
and commenting upon the original form in a modern hybrid. Unlike
the more 'knowing' revival of Lounge from San Francisco and Paris
with groups like Dmitri from Paris and Combustible Edison, the Birmingham
groups, as is the way in the waters in this industrial city, maintain
an authentic air of genuineness in their treatment of Lounge, born
from love and homage, not parody. Whether this revival of Lounge
music and the Moog is an isolated and inexplicable phenomenon or
part of a recognition of the historical and aesthetic significance
of pioneering electronic music development, only time will tell.
But ten years on, Lounge and the analogue revival show no signs
of losing steam.
Musicians
and technology have always shared something of a love/hate relationship.
Through the work of Moog the engineer, barriers of technology have
been reduced, and the work of Perrey the commercialist, has allowed
for the popularisation of the synthesis genre in a way no academic
established could ever have initiated. Now, in our period of curious
revivals, we are able to see in clarity the level of enriching experimentation
and change these men put into place. We are now coming to accept
that the 'low' forms of previous generations, can, by their fundamentally
inherent 'non-low' characteristic and qualities, come to become
relished and admired by new generations in ways they were never
originally conceived.
"The
utopian impulse, the negation of everyday life, the aesthetic impulse
that Adorno recognised in 'high' art must be part of low art too."
(60).
FOOTNOTES
(1)
The Wire No. 175 August 1998 (pg3) 'Tomorrow' by Tony Herrington
(2)
The Wire, 'A huge, ever pulsating brain' by Mark Sinker
(3)
The Wire, 'A huge, ever pulsating brain' by Mark Sinker
(4)
Clara Rockmore website
(5)
Sleeve notes to Silver Apples on the Moon by Morton Subotnik
(6)
On Sonic Art (Pg 6) by Trevor Wishart (self published) 1985
(7)
Any Sound You Can Imagine (Pg. 52) by Paul Theberge, University
Press of New England, 1997
(8)
Schoenberg, as quoted by Dr. Vic Hoyland, lecture notes to Music
in the Twentieth Century
(9)
Illustrated Compendium of Musical Technology (Pg 16) by Tristan
Cary, Faber & Faber 1992
(10)
Any Sound You Can Imagine (Pg. 52) by Paul Theberge, University
Press of New England, 1997
(11)
The Wire, 'A huge, ever pulsating brain' by Mark Sinker
(12)
America On Record (Pg. 139) by Andre Millard, Cambrdige University
Press, 1995
(13)
Easy! The Lexicon of Lounge (Pg 111) by Dylan Jones, Pavillion Books,
1997
(14)
Easy! The Lexicon of Lounge (Pg 111) by Dylan Jones, Pavillion Books,
1997
(15)
On Sonic Art (Pg 90) by Trevor Wishart (self published) 1985
(16)
Performing Rites (Pg. 226) by Simon Frith, Oxford University Press,
1996
(17)
Performing Rites (Pg. 65) by Simon Frith, Oxford University Press,
1996
(18)
Easy! The Lexicon of Lounge (Pg 59) by Dylan Jones, Pavillion Books,
1997
(19)
Easy! The Lexicon of Lounge (Pg 56) by Dylan Jones, Pavillion Books,
1997
(20)
Easy! The Lexicon of Lounge (Pg 3) by Dylan Jones, Pavillion Books,
1997
(21)
Performing Rites (Pg. 227) by Simon Frith, Oxford University Press,
1996
(22)
Easy! The Lexicon of Lounge (Pg 8) by Dylan Jones, Pavillion Books,
1997
(23)
Cocktail Culture Website - Richard Lanles
(24)
Sleeve notes to Moog Indigo by 'Mr Bongo'
(25)
Incredibly Strange Music (Pg. 92) by Caroline Herbert, Re/Search
Publications, 1993
(26)
Sleeve notes to The Amazing New Electronic Pop Sound of Jean-Jacques
Perrey by Jean-Jacques Perrey
(27)
Ibid.
(28)
Computer Music Journal Vol. 18 No. 4 Winter 1994 (pg. 25) by Lanurent
Fourier, Masachuettes Institute of Technology
(29)
Sleeve notes to The Amazing New Electronic Pop Sound of Jean-Jacques
Perrey by Jean-Jacques Perrey
(30)
Incredibly Strange Music (Pg. 97) by Caroline Herbert, Re/Search
Publications, 1993
(31)
Cool & Strange Music Magazine by Dana Countryman
(32)
Incredibly Strange Music (Pg. 95) by Caroline Herbert, Re/Search
Publications, 1993
(33)
Ibid.
(34)
Ibid.
(35)
Ibid.
(36)
Incredibly Strange Music (Pg. 86) by Caroline Herbert, Re/Search
Publications, 1993
(37)
Ibid.
(38)
Incredibly Strange Music (Pg. 98) by Caroline Herbert, Re/Search
Publications, 1993
(39)
Cool & Strange Music Magazine by Dana Countryman
(40)
Easy! The Lexicon of Lounge (Pg 87) by Dylan Jones, Pavillion Books,
1997
(41)
Cool & Strange Music Magazine by Dana Countryman
(42)
Walter Carlos as quoted on a Moog Music Web Site
(43)
Esquivel as quoted on Space Age Bachelor Pad Music website
(44)
Any Sound You Can Imagine by Paul Theberge, University Press of
New England, 1997
(45)
www.anlogue.org website
(46)
Roots of Lounge website
(47)
Chas Gould on online debate at www.sonicstate.com
(48)
Julian Coldbeck, quoted on a Moog Music website
(49)
Lester Bangs (music journalist)
(50)
'Josh M' on online debate at www.sonicstate.com
(51)
Computer Music Journal Vol. 12 No. 1 Spring 1988 - Curtis Road (Pg
9), Masachuettes Institute of Technology
(52)
The Wire, 'A huge, ever pulsating brain' by Mark Sinker
(53)
We Brought Our Friends Fanzine (pg. 50), by Alan Farmer, privately
published
(54)
Easy! The Lexicon of Lounge (Pg 107) by Dylan Jones, Pavillion Books,
1997
(55)
Modernity and Mass Culture (pg. 205), Jim Collins, Indian University
Press, 1991
(56)
John Peel's Meltdown website
(57)
WARP records website
(58)
Satellite and Cable New, New York October '94
(59)
Ibid.
(60)
Performing Rites (Pg. 20) by Simon Frith, Oxford University Press,
1996
(61)
With
thanks to:
Dugal
McKinnon, Jean-Jacques Perrey, Robert Moog, Re/Search publications,
Alan Farmer, all the Moseley crew.
All
texts © Susi O'Neill, 1999.
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