Making instrumentals instrumental

I’m becoming addicted to NPR’s music webpage again. In the States, I had the variety of friends, work, and local venues for the music fix. In Korea, what we hear out on the street seems to be a mix of the same 8 pop songs. In stores, storefronts, and in taxis, we can almost sing along to the Korean syllables. Yesterday, I gratefully listened to a yet-to-be-released album by the Flaming Lips, [Embryonic]. Yes, an entire album, available for our listening pleasure on NPR’s music page: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=113403123

All afternoon, I was thinking about music and, of course, appreciating the fact that I have plenty of time to do so.

Out for a walk, I was listening to Sufjan Stevens’ “Greetings From Michigan- The Great Lake State” (2003, but a recent, satisfying acquisition for me). Traversing the park, I came upon a solo accordion player. He was a middle-aged man with bushy eyebrows. Seated on a bench before a line of trees, with something appearing to be sheet music spread out to his right, and a bag & random belongings to his left. Headphones off, I sat on a nearby bench to rest and listen. It wasn’t a grandiose melodic execution, by any means, but the guy’s heart was in it. The song just kept going and going and going and going and going and going. As I soaked in the continuing, sometimes dissonant, folding & unfolding of the accordion, my mind and thoughts wandered. I just let them go, freely. Abstract colors and shapes, flowing and changing with the passing breeze of song. At its conclusion, I gently walked away. The moment prompted thoughts about the imagery that music suggests. Vocals in music tend to steer us in certain directions. Greetings From Michigan… brought many visions: a grandmother smoking in a hospital room, an individual in prayer, the daily routine of working class America, and yes, a Great Lake. Music without vocals is still quite suggestive but, for me, the power of its suggestion is obviously much broader. The music to which I refer is known as “instrumental”. (Though, in a university Humanities course, I was taught that the voice is the oldest “instrument”, which leads me to question the term). The imagery prompted by instrumental pieces draws on greater influence of environmental factors such as: time of day, inside/outside, cloud cover or absence thereof, temperature, urban/natural setting, absence or presence of other people, season, lighting, listener’s mood, et cetera.

So what about it? For me, it’s an experiment. Three days of instrumental music only. No divine chants or mantras to accompany my yoga practice, no Damian Marley or Shawn Q for my jogging. No Sufjan Stevens in the park. A new, big world of endless possibilities. The first thing I did this morning was dance… to Vijay Iyer’s jazzy new album "Historicity": http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=113472412&ps=bb4

As I write this, I learn where Night on Disco Mountain (David Shire, Saturday Night Fever soundtrack) came from... it’s a Classical Party: A Summer Night to Remember:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=111595310

Thank you, NPR.