Faux Artists (poem)

A true artist is comfortable
Seeing reality
Is dangerous and unpredictable.

So don't date faux artists
There's a danger they've
Turned it into an art.

Neon Indian (FOR SMART PEOPLE ONLY)

Contents of a communication (version 1.1) to professor Janis Johnson (expert in American Indian culture, professor at the University of Idaho):

Intended for immediate circulation among academic professors (especially those who specialize in music, music history, American culture / literature, and the American Indian experience) direct from a nice little college town in Idaho:

SUBJECT:
NEON INDIAN (Am. Indian voice in (recurring?) Electropop revival fad)

BODY:
I'll contribute a little hard-hitting pop philosophy in the Western analytical tradition.

What I'm calling the (hopefully recurring) Electropop revival fad (otherwise known as synthwave, or retrowave, and things like that) is a very interesting grassroots movement in the independent music community. For myself, it's a little important to look into what appears to be the aesthetic focus of the movement.

Although many very legitimate exponents of the idea are cropping up all over the Internet, the aesthetic brainchild (properly understood) of the movement appears to be a man by the name of Seth Haley.

The whole focus of the new / revised genre involves exploring different ideas of organic[ity] regarding sequenced, looped, processed, sampled et cetera, digital and analog electronic, digital-electronic, and algorithmic sound synthesis / resynthesis techniques. So far my favorite exponents of this genre appear to be the work of Seth Haley and a private digital edit of my favorite track by Neon Indian (which I cannot release for copyright reasons).

The name of the track is exactly this: "Mind, Drips". (It's important to note that capitalization, grammar, and so forth are all fairly important in the title, and that it be properly quoted to signify that it is in fact the title of the work in question.)

I'll endeavor to use my knowledge of synthesis techniques to try to explain the cultural significance of the movement, as my knowledge, I think, is fairly extensive in this area. I'll try to keep it short, but it may take a while.

I think the most important cultural factor here is the well-observed and fairly obvious fact that digital synth techniques (digital-electronic as well as algorithmic) are almost never expensive, and very easy to come by. On the same hand, however, authentic analog electronic techniques are invariably difficult to procure in just about every possible way. This fact pretty much cuts to the root of scientific and philosophical inquiry itself in the Western tradition.

It would take an extremely long time to get into what I mean by that, and since that's not the focus of this, I'll let that by for now.

I'll first use a short burst of theory to explain this. Authentic analog electronic paths introduce true-random noise into the synthesis structure of the technology, whereas digital techniques are usually suffocatingly precise. In terms of a single step in my aesthetic journey as a musician: I had a struggle at one point trying to come up with powerful, bassy sounds. I assummed, incorrectly, that the right way to do it was with sharp and exact digitally-produced synthesized audio wave files. My working theory at the time was, the more sharp, and the more exact, the more powerful.

Upon even modest historical investigation of the subject, however, it became very clear that I was exactly wrong. The ONLY way I can think of to produce truly powerful sounds is the introduction of reasonably true-random noise.

We don't have to worry too much (as artists, anyway) about the mathematical/philosophical/theoretical notions regarding the definition of "true-random" as I'm fairly sure this is still a point of controversy. However. The salient point here involves organic[ity] using electronics and computers. (Although from time to time so far I also hear a guitar.)

I can't delve too much further into this due to lack of time, though it's all over the Internet. Perhaps it would be best to offer a couple of examples and how they illustrate the point. (Be aware, from time to time, I may fudge a few details.)

TITLE:
Com Truise (aka Seth Haley) — ControlPop

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
This track involves some of the most cheezy synth techniques not from the '80s, but actually (I think) from the '70s (wide filter sweeps). It's very much looped, very repetitive. It begins by (and by? it did repeat at least once here) harsh and grating pop music (esque?) samples. The point of organi[city] mainly involves the exact model and build of the specific synthesizers used, and their respective circuit-paths. I actually don't know any of these models and builds at all, but that's the factor. It's very much about figuring out the exact right insane genius who created the exact right synthesis technique (and embodiment) and coming to terms with their particular and individual method of introducing randomness to generate powerful sounds. After that, the aesthetic decisions regarding placement (in the track) should be very simple, however, it may be difficult sometimes to procure the necessary funding to buy the equipment.

TITLE:
Com Truise — "VHS Sex" (listen on YouTube)

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
This one is a little more controlled. By appearances, far less synthesis techniques were used than the last track, and the power here relies mainly on the theoretical notion of introducing randomness primarily regarding such-and-such synthesizer (I know not which). The main point is that there are less synths. (On a personal note, I find this track a little difficult, because of the vocal sample, because, as a budding filmmaker, I continue to have fantasies about using this exact track in the official My Little Pony (FIM) movie regarding important scenes focusing on Princesses Celestia and Luna, where power is particularly relevant. I find it difficult to imagine, unfortunately, how a large corporation could possibly get away with such a thing, though, even if the samples were removed, which sort-of would've been my creative decision.)

TITLE:
Jeff Mills — "Phase 4"

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
This isn't really part of the movement, per se, but it's still relevant, and I can explain quickly. Organi[city] was easily achieved using two repeated samples of some esoteric, virtuoso technique on the violin. The rest was mechanical.

TITLE:
Com Tuise — "Data Kiss"

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
This one is very difficult to explain. The track is actually one of his weaker ones, aesthetically (in my humble opinion, which of course should be understood within the context of my own, personal, aesthetic commitments as an artist at this point), but that's not what I want to talk about.

The main thing I want to talk about here is the video produced by a man named "David Dean Burkhart" for the track. It is only a remix of what appears to be a low-budget '80s flick by the name of "Looker." Organicity, here, appears to have been amazingly achieved merely through the editing of the video. There is one point of organicity I'm certain about, and one I'm not so sure about. The first (I'm fairly 100% sure) is exactly this: organicity achieved through asynchronous usage of rather categorically different modes of editing and capture technologies. If you watch some of the "subliminal"-(ish) cuts very closely, you'll notice that as the cuts get smaller, the screen flickers more. I cannot conceive of any possible way to achieve this except through exactly the method I described: asynchronous usage of (rather) categorically different modes of editing and capture technologies.

The second, which I'm not so sure about, is the very last motion clip at the end, where the protagonist-girl kind-of dissolves like a rainbow (except a little more like a mathematical rainbow of just one color). It looks like the kind of thing which you'd do using "analog, modular video synthesis" (emphasis on the word "video" and "modular"), but I don't think this technique was in vogue in the '80s, and is rather expensive to produce, particularly on a limited time-frame. But I'm not sure.

TITLE:
Neotone (aka Nathan Foster, the author) — "Crystadeline"

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
This is my own contribution, but it may be difficult for some. For one, of the one's I've mentioned, it appears (to me anyway) to be the least organic. And the main problem was that I was forced to use mainly weird math, as well as exactly 1 and 1/2 of exactly the wrong kind of synthesizer, as well as (luckily) exactly the right authentic, analog filtering technology.

In addition to stock FutureLoops (FruityLoops, I think, at the time, but they got sued) samples, I used two synthesizers. They were not authentic-analog, by any reputable understanding of the term. One of them was one or another of the Casio brand of synthesizers. However, interestingly, I somehow was able to get away (aesthetically) with using a fairly lossless and unmodified live-recorded sample line as the second bass track from this synth. Simply by choosing exactly the right preset. (I'm not sure how I did that.)

The second synth has a little more troubled of a history. The model of the synth is the "Korg Poly 800 MKII". First of all, the circuit path of this synth is pretty much flawed in every way a circuit path can be flawed in a digital-electronic synthesizer. It was produced, I think, to sell quickly. And second of all, the previous owner had no idea how to take care of vintage synths, and it's a miracle the thing still works. (I also kind-of broke the rules by playing on the synth keyboard directly, instead of sequencing through a midi connection. It does help, though, that this was one part of the way organicity was achieved.) Most of the synth samples were collected using this synth.

There were a couple of other ways, too. For one, I used an amplifier-to-microphone sampling technique using a fairly acoustically dirty amplifier. The dirtiness of the amp helped, and (though I didn't intend for this to happen) it also helped that some background noises involving the Audacity metronome were picked up, and I was able to accept this eventuality aesthetically.

The third, and most important factor in the synthesis technique I used was really the miracle of the story. Somehow, at some point, I was able to come across a good deal of money. One of the things I purchased (true-to-form in the musical tradition in question) was exactly the right synthesis (module) produced by exactly the right insane genius. The product is the revised version of the Sherman Filterbank (rack-mountable, but that's not important). I was able to create an ad-hoc modular analog synthesizer with a very pleasing circuit path simply by connecting an audio patch cable between the MKII and the Filterbank. I used automatic ADSR triggering techniques in the filterbank, as well as a little distortion, and it all seemed to work out. (It's a very nice module because it's not that expensive, easy to use, well-designed, and anyway, there are a lot of them in production, I believe. It has a strange reputation of being able to inject organi[city] everywhere it goes.)

Another important point to note was the focus of the track. I set out with exactly the intention of achieving exactly the same "sound" (or "style," or whatever) as the track "VHS Sex," and furthermore, by using exactly the same, minimalistic chord progression. While making, of course, my own artistic statement. And I achieved exactly that. I suppose due to echoes of my previous aesthetic commitments as a musician, the track also ended up being more minimalist in nature. I threw in exactly two strange, fetishistic female vocal samples derived in these respective ways: One was conceptually fetishistic ("I feel you coming"), which was shipped royalty-free and licensed as a stock sample in the version of FruityLoops I was using at the time, and strangly and a-tonally modified using various functionality in the program. The second was a woman (Psifon) faking an orgasm, who recorded the sample herself, and uploaded it for free to Freesound.org. (I feel strange noting this, as an artist, but by the way, she did a very good job.) A couple sequencing decisions later, and I had a track.

I'd also hasten to note that another sample is an extremely speeded-up one of a something-or-other (probably another Casio preset), and the other is a very well-collected, well-selected, and well-used sample of a Sanza (traditional African musical instrument). Hope no one's aesthetically offended by either of these.

TITLE:
Neon Indian — "Mind, Drips"

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
This track is extremely rare as an artistic achievement. It's very, very organic, first of all. Synthesizer techniques were used in exactly the right way. Some of the details were fudged, but it turned out very beautifully. And one, oft-overlooked aspect of this movement, by so many authors, is the presence of beautiful and complex poetic lyrics. (Only once did I see something like this on the Internet — what appears to be Com Truise's remix of Foster the People's "Helena Beat," but it isn't really the same, since two different sources produced the work. It's another amazing track which I also have fantasies about using in the official My Little Pony movie, but as a director, I'd be satisfied to settle with the track in question here ("Mind, Drips."))

I hate to bring this nonsense up AGAIN, but in my HUMBLE opinion as an artist, due to my current artistic commitments as an artist, I do wish the track were a little longer, though I'm willing to accept competing opinions. I've already produced my own edit, and I listen to it all the time. (Of course, for the purposes of the My Little Pony movie, it'd certainly be better to use the shorter version, which would run during the credits. Perhaps I'd be able to get away with both songs, if there were enough artists involved in the making of the film.)

TITLE:
Airliner (also Seth Haley) — "Illuminism"

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
Organicity is achieved through dialectical negotiation between artistic intent and skillful prediction of / happy accidents regarding algorithmic results, all revolving around the musical notion of rhythm.

TITLE:
Airliner — "Everyday"

DESCRIPTION:
Organicity is achieved through dialectical negotiation between artistic intent and skillful prediction of / happy accidents regarding algorithmic results, all revolving around the musical notion of chord progression.

TITLE:
HYPERDRIVER — "KEEP IT HARDCORE (...RUSHES IN WITH A HAMMER)" (title in all-caps as it appears on my hard drive)

RELEVANT DESCRIPTION:
I'd better hasten to mention this track, although the genre is very different. I'm a little unaware of HYPERDRIVER's creative process. But organic[ity] was easily, and probably very quickly achieved in this track by what appeared to be a long-distance phone call between two friends in different countries who met over the Internet. (The story behind this one takes a while to explain, but I may have already gotten one or two of the details wrong, and I'm sure the folks in question can speak for themselves.)



Pretty much all of this music is available for free over the Internet. However, I'm absolutely certain that all these people REALLY REALLY REALLY want to make money. It is available for free, per se, but it's pretty much just a slick marketing technique, and in a sense (I suppose), all (or at least most) roads lead to Ghostly Intl. (a Corporation). (With the exception of a couple artists, for instance Neon Indian, who releases under a different label, and manages his own webpage: neonindian.com.)

It's important to understand the notions here regarding the concept of Organicity, and the various ways in which it is achieved, within my specific tradition of electronic pop music synthesis.

An Indulgence in Paranoid Delusions

I feel like indulging in a bit of paranoid delusional thinking for a bit and consider the question of what to do in the Orwellian situation at the close of the novel, 1984. This is where you've been brainwashed into believing that the oppressive state is a wonderful thing, and that you're in love with it.

I've been having these feelings lately and wondering if I should attribute it to some weird psychological disorder relevantly similar to the Stockholm syndrome, or if it has a genuine basis. See, my heart stirs with patriotism every time I hear the National Anthem. Something about extreme chaotic states like sudden, loud, explosions and intense, red-colored "glares" which in themselves, in their own right, prove that the flag is still flying just resonates with me, considering my beliefs on the sui generis benefits of psychosis and other "symptoms" of "mental illness." See, to me, my extreme chaotic mental states have some wonderful qualities in their own right, and I love the sentiment that the bare fact of their existence proves my freak flag is still waving high. And if we have a nation based on that, then you can count me a patriot.

I've felt some wonderful freedom lately which I've never felt before, and after some very difficult times, the universe and I have at least come to a point of mutual respect. A lot of hatred boiled out of me over the past month. Extreme, caustic hatred. Finally, some of the god / goddess companions of mine seem to fully understand why that was. But I'm left to wonder, in the modal-logical possible universe where I have been placed in the coffee shop in front of the seductive patriotic glare of the television to await my proverbial happily anticipated assassination, how, exactly, would I respond if the world asked me, "Do you love me?"

Do I love you, world? The goddesses have thoroughly buttered me up. My emotions have been completely drained, the sexual-induced pleasure hormones have washed through my brain, my soul has disappeared into the gray, and nonspecific love, like a virus, has been injected into me, and has taken over everything, leaving everything about my own personal boundaries terminally ill. I can't say it doesn't feel beautiful. And if the Orwellian question, "Do you love me?" were posed to me now, I'm in the perfect condition to answer "yes."

And yet, I must say, in all honesty, my answer would not be "yes." Do I love literally everything and anything? Well, yes. I do. I can't help it. It's thoroughly degrading, but rather pleasant. However. When we're talking about the idea called "suffering," and compare it to the idea of an actually existing nonspecific concept-agnostic thing referenced to in the statement, "I love literally everything and anything," the rules are just different. So really, the answer is, "Which world?"

The pattern among professionals of "selling your soul" is very real. And this moment. Now. Is when it happens. I'm convinced of it. If I were to say, "I love the world! So yes! I will give up my art! Someone else can be an artist! I will not become king of the world! I freely give up the One Ring (or two) into which I've poured my cruelty, malice, and will to dominate all life! Someone else can have all that; I'm feeling so infinitely generous that all that is mine is freely yours, and my goal now is to prove it, so take my body, my possessions, my life, everything!"

Alright. I literally do give up everything. I am feeling infinitely generous, and it's all fair game. But there's one little liquid strand of poison left in my veins called "critical thinking," and you'll just have to take that, too.

When a world is fundamentally a place where you are not allowed to be anything but a slave, it must be destroyed. A slave, to me, is someone who, though perhaps provided the essentials of life, is not allowed to become excited about the world, and about whom the world is not allowed to become excited. And if this is how life works, who cares if the world is destroyed? Indestructibility relies on concept-agnosticism. Concepts really do, in a sense, just last and last in a system which is sufficiently concept-agnostic. And if the world is so dead-locked into some kind of inflexible system, it is by necessity not concept agnostic. It's already dead. And all life in it is just a festering mold, writhing in unconscious post-mortem pain until all the organic matter in the corpse is gobbled up.

I am a blood-red jackal spirit. My soul is pure red. If I were to choose a picture of myself, it would be a gigantic red diamond. And all the wonderful spirits in my head are blood-red jackal spirits along with me. That is my offering. And that is my love. I give it fully and freely. I am unarmed; I am exploitable; I'm nothing. And that's how I like it. Forever and ever.

People of the universe, even if you're only in my head, just remember this: stay squishy. Stay real. And above all, stay ignorant, for if you are not ignorant, you can never learn. Stop right on the spot in your suffering, take a cold, red glare at it, and it is instantly the path to all your dreams.

That's enough for now.

Divine Promises—A Terrorist Poem

This is my submission to Meg McLain's "Online Terrorist Keywords" Poetry Contest. Every italicized word is a terrorist keyword.

My wish
Is the execution of every smart body scanner
And though I'm accustomed to watch no other,
To exercise the initiative of my love,
And invite an emergency landing
Beneath the galaxy
Of night.

And in case I collapse
In the explosion
Of emotion
Just recall
That should my avian soul
Speak human to human,
No other power is smart enough
To constrain the gods of skin
That sweat in the memory of your blue
Dress, which we cancelled in our one night.

And should I burst forth
And tremor in the avalanche
Of concealed promises,
Only with you it is not
Such a disaster;
Tempered as it is by the lightening
In your electric eyes.

It is a queer strain of
Cancelled passions
That commonly hail the
Outbreak of lovers' arguments;
But though I'm hostage to your green eyes,
Kidnapped by your home grown idiosyncrasies,
Even a small sigh could bring relief.

My words are but an incident
Of the typhoon that racks
My soul, or the
Organized crime that balks
At the mitigation of reason—
The old standoff spoken of
By the several poets, breaching the secrets
So toxic to every standard dream.

For only in this state of emergency
Is the facility of the starry
Divine unearthed,
Yet it crawls like an infection
And pains me,
My lover of North Korea,
Like a chemical burn.
I am, again,
A sick and wilted rose
Alone, with no vaccine,
Only the narcotics
Of the forgotten pictures
You took in China.

We all ask for
Closure in the extremism of passion,
The target of holy jihad,
Like a worm of never-ending failure or outage,
A calderon that can be tempered
Only in a wave of compassion—
Not an assassination of desires.

My wish
Is the execution of every smart body scanner
And though I'm accustomed to watch no other,
To exercise the initiative of my love,
And invite an emergency landing
Beneath the galaxy
Of night.

Hyper Crush's Crushstep

I've been listening to Hyper Crush's entire new album for free. Yes, you can do that. Legally. And it's amazing. By which I mean, brilliant. Let me focus on just one song: "Cheap Thrills."

This has all the hallmarks of great literature. It's philosophical and deep, dramatic, inspiring, creative, and entertaining. (And one more: it's addictive. I can't stop listening to it because it blows my mind so much.)

Let me break it down for you.

• Philosophical and deep. It's not just hedonism. It takes a philosophical / political stance. The hero of the song has money on his brain like the rich industrialists. But he still stays positive ("I've made it, yeah, I'm alright") even though overwhelmed by the suffering of the world. He talks of the seven billion people in the world, but (unfortunately) "All we tryin' to do is pop." He takes on a certain role ("I'm hot, I've gotta be") with reluctance, but only because he must to fulfill his face-melting obligations to his fans.
• Dramatic. It involves characters and conflicts. There are two main characters who have inner conflicts and intra- conflicts. The rapper has an inner conflict along the lines I've already described. The female character has an inner conflict too. She "can't even see straight, but I'm on my feet still." She's fighting to stay standing and party positive despite the pull of her inner demons. Also, there's a subtle conflicted relationship between the female and the male. The female is obviously partying (she keeps asking for drinks) and presumably, she's partying to the music performed by the male. She's feeding off of that music, which is an "angel" keeping them both afloat in this "evil world."
• Inspiring. Because the characters triumph over their conflicts, it's inspiring. "But wait," you might say, "They don't triumph. They're still fighting in the end." Yes. And I feel this borrowed trope from the Rave culture is even MORE inspiring. I mean, in literature of the past the heroes had some kind of "final" triumph which ultimately ends all conflicts. But that's not really the way real life works most of the time. In real life, instead of chasing that ultimate triumph, sometimes just the fact you're still standing at the end of the day (or night) is enough. And what makes Rave music so brilliant is that, unlike Rock concerts, it SUSTAINS the party into infinity until the heavens fall into the sea and that final triumph finally comes. In this song, and in real raves, the people are still standing, dancing, all through the life, into eternity. We never stop. We never surrender.
• Creative. To be creative, a song must be both novel and reinforcing. It must have new ideas, and reinforce already established ones. This song adds that novel Hyper Crush flair to an established pop genre: DubStep. (It's not DubStep: it's CrushStep!)
• Entertaining. It doesn't just long endlessly for the sunrise at the end of the night. It makes happiness concrete. This song is the shit. Period. That's what's entertaining about it. I can listen to it and not get lost in the pathos. It's brilliant. (Also the reason why I like Hyper Crush's remix of "Somebody That I Used to Know" by Gotye better than the original.)

There is nothing about this song I don't like. It's one of the most amazing songs I've heard. Listen. You won't be disappointed.

Madonna's New Album

I don't know what happened to Madonna. I was just listening to tracks off her new album MDNA (probably the coolest album name I've heard in a long time, by the way) and it strikes me that she just doesn't get it. She doesn't get Rave music. Or worse: she's just trying to capitalize off it without adding anything.

I mean, don't get me wrong. It's not bad music. I'd rather listen to it than a lot of music out there. But it's just not great. And what gets me is, Madonna used to be great. Her song "Material Girl" is one of my favorite songs of all time. "Vogue"—same thing: positive message, edgy, complex, confidence-building, interesting, entertaining, etc. And her album, Erotica, is not only brilliant music, but brilliant literature. It's great poetry that can stand up to just about anyone in the English literary canon. And I should know: I've studied the stuff seriously.

But MDNA is just not that great. Same thing with the past several of her albums. MDNA features a couple cameos from an artist I really respect: M.I.A. The cameos were stupid and vapid. So how come I still respect M.I.A. but not Madonna? Because M.I.A. makes sense to me. I understand her. She is one of the few pop artists out there who can legitimately say "I just want to put a cap in your ass and take your money." A lot of artists claim they come from the ghetto and are bad boys or bad girls. But M.I.A. came from an INDIAN ghetto. She was a war refugee. Her father was a Tamil Tiger. When M.I.A. does a stupid collaboration (and she does a lot of them) it's not because she's stupid. It's because she's a gangsta popping a cap in the ass of the music industry and taking their money. She's a musical warlord. She makes sense.

But I don't get Madonna. Maybe there's something I'm missing. I feel somewhere along the line she lost it somehow. And I wish she would just find a way to do the brilliant, amazing music that I know she can do. Whether it's because of greed, or if she's in a dark place right now, I don't know. But I don't understand. I wish she would just... come back.

The Negative Magnolia

Searching, finding, classifying, using, reading, talking, reporting, sitting, standing, walking can all be done in entropy. This entropy has a dulling effect on the mind, like carbon dioxide has on the planet. Experience can be closed — it can exist inside a building with no windows. Keeping busy keeps you in the system; it keeps you indoors, breathing old air and reading yellow pages between musty book covers. I look for these things, like a bee looks for flowers.

The open door. It is defined by spacial constraints, but it is an anti-object. I walk outside: which brings the new. The sparkling air brings externalism — I feel fresh. I don't refer to internal things anymore. I don't refer to flowers within flowers. I can go inside an object, I can go through an anti-object. If you think about it, it's a beautiful thing — the door. It's a happy thing. If we had no doors, no cracks in the walls, we could have no objects. If we had no objects, we could have no doors. Really, looking through the anti-object is as beautiful as looking inside the object.