Friday, February 01, 2002

The Ur-Song

Carl Jung believed that we are born, not just with our physical bodies, but also with a collective consciousness. He suggested this collective consciousness was composed of “the residues of ancestral life… (whose) origins can only be explained from assuming them to be deposits of the constantly repeated experiences of humanity.”

How else to explain, for instance, universally accepted sounds, terms, symbols, etc– for ‘Mother’?

Along these same lines there are those who believe that part of this collective consciousness includes or contains what has been called an ‘Ur-Song’, that is: A basic, fundamental and universal sequence of notes, forming a melody; and so named because of the Mesopotamian City of Ur, regarded as the first civilization.

Some academics think of melodies as symbols, and indeed a motif can heighten dramatic intent via deft symbolic use. So, it's not a great leap to consider that that this Ur-Song while itself not literally a symbol –not a graphic one, anyway– is nevertheless equivalent to a symbol, –or in fact it is a musical or sonic symbol– and therefore worthy of semiotic analysis.

FYI: Semiotics, is the study of sign processes, or signification and communication, signs and symbols, both individually and grouped into sign systems. (Wikipedia)

So what does the Ur-song sound like you ask? There are several theories, with one being that it is simply a descending minor third. Sometimes I’m inclined to think that it is the bass line from Pachelbel’s Canon, –the sequence having become so ubiquitous that I now recognize its integration into many pop compositions (do sol la mi fa do fa sol). However, most of the articles I’ve read indicate that the Ur-Song is more probably sung as: ‘sol sol mi la sol mi’. But you probably know it better as 'nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah' or 'Na-nana-nah-na nah nah', a common children's taunt sung upon said to be sung upon the universal melody.


Indeed, it’s heard on every playground around the world. Of course, the lyrics and exact rhythm change depending on the culture and language, but the tune is always the same.

In his book, The Secret Power of Music, David Tame describes this phenomenon:

“…in all lands, children from the age of eighteen months to two and a half years have been found to spontaneously sing melodic fragments with the intervals of second, minor third, and major third.”

Even Leonard Bernstein described a belief in the legitimacy of the Ur-song.

As it happens, I’m also a true believer:

When I was two years old –and living in San Juan de Marcos, Peru– my parents recall this incident: Upon seeing a motorcyclist having troubles with his bike, I spontaneously sang out, “Ha ha ha la moto”, and the words were carried upon the following melody: ‘sol sol mi la sol mi’ –what else but the Ur-song!

* * *

Click on any link below to read the entire Mystic Audio Series:

1. Glossolalia: Speaking In Tongues
2. The Ur-Song
3. Theta Waves, Mantras & The Lord's Prayer
4. Atomic Rhythms
5. Thai Drum Samples For Sesame Workshop

Thursday, January 10, 2002

Sound Byte: Car Alarms

Car Alarms: Need I say more?

Brian C. Anderson of the Daily News suggests Car Alarms Are Useless, So Ban Them. Reminding us these annoying devices are designed to aggravate he informs us:

“More than 80% of the calls to New York's quality-of-life hotline concern noise, and many are car-alarm complaints, police say.”

Why am I not surprised?

“Top models like Viper and Hellfire boast sirens that hit a painful 125 decibels — as loud as a disco, and it's sounding right outside your window.”


Not to mention that sometimes all it takes is another passing vehicle to trigger that disco, and usually does so at five in the morning

A mockingbird once took up residence outside my window, and I could swear the thing had learned how to sound out the baneful electronic wale of a Toyota Rav4 being violated.

These pulsing devices are not without their hidden merits, though. Catch me bright eyed during a blue sky afternoon and if I hear an alarm go off I’m likely to break out into 3 or 4 eights of a jubilantly fragmented post modern dance. So there you go, it is like a disco.

Tuesday, January 01, 2002

Glossolalia: Speaking In Tongues

And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance. (Acts 2:4)

While a student at the North Carolina School of the Arts, I made the acquaintance of a pair of Pentecostal students. Since I have always had an interest in the religious studies, I pressed them for background on their beliefs. To my amazement, they could each produce glossolalia, –or ‘speaking in tongues’– quite readily.

I recall the silent services at CFS, the Quaker high school I graduated from. Quakers are so called because when inspired by God they sometimes quake. Sometimes one of my fellow students would be moved to address the community, but I never witnessed anyone possessed by the spirit of God in that setting. And those who did contribute did so in plain English.

It is thought that those who speak in tongues might actually be speaking in any number of common human languages. But my new Pentecostal friends explained to me that they exclusively spoke a pre-Babel langauge. They considered the pre-Babel language to be the ‘Ur Language': the original tongue, named not after Babel –as one might think– but after Ur, an ancient Mesopotamian City and beleived to be the world’s first civilization.

The story goes that after God smashed the Tower of Babel, He disrupted men’s communications by subjugating them with different languages. The logic being that by making harder for men to communicate with each other, they would never again be able to collaborate on such a structure as threatening as a heaven reaching skyscraper.

If that were the case, I’d say our modern cities are long overdue for a divinely ordained catastrophic event.

In 1983, the arty punk band Talking Heads released an album called ‘Speaking In Tongues’. On it, David Byrne sings,: “Everything’s stuck together.” Now that's a lesson in spiritual quantum physics that I can readily understand.

* * *

Click on any link below to read the entire Mystic Audio Series:

1. Glossolalia: Speaking In Tongues
2. The Ur-Song
3. Theta Waves, Mantras & The Lord's Prayer
4. Atomic Rhythms
5. Thai Drum Samples For Sesame Workshop

Saturday, December 01, 2001

Sound of the Year: 2001 – The Silence

The 2001 Critical Noise Sound of the Year belongs to The Silence that befell the world in the immediate aftermath of the events of September 11, 2001.

We did not all feel The Silence at the same time. Nor did we all drop into that vast pit of darkness together for the same reasons. It was not even a physical silence we sensed, but a disturbing quietude we felt inside, as if we might drown in that hole that had grown inside our hearts.

For some, The Silence arrived immediately, while witnessing the surreal events of the day in real time. For others who jumped into action by professional necessity or instinct, it came afterwards, with weary or anxious rest. And in those cases, it often came on with an inexplicable feeling that one had just returned from a tour of duty on Mars.

For still others The Silence arrived when the evidence that a loved one had been lost proved irrefutable.

And for still others, they finally sensed its overwhelming emptiness when the question 'Why?' yielded absolutely nothing.

But if even if we did feel for a moment that we were enveloped in muffled darkness, and even in the light of day, it was only so that our hearts and minds might pause and recalibrate the order of things.

Words fail us still, but no doubt we will all emerge in time and make sense of this world again.

+ + +

HOW THE SOUND OF THE YEAR IS SELECTED:

The Critical Noise Sound of the Year goes to that sound source, event, entity, happening or concept which so effectively produces wide response and reaction, whether intentional or not, such that it stirs collective emotion, inspires discussion, incites action, or otherwise lends itself to cultural analysis and resonates across the globe.

Tuesday, September 11, 2001

9/11: Sirens and Silence

The following entry was composed on the fifth anniversary of the event, and inserted here for context.

On 9/11, Michael Sweet and I were in the compact penthouse office that housed Blister Media's recording studio. It was early; we were tired; and so we had the blinds drawn. We had arrived especially early that morning for two reasons. I had promised to messenger some elements to Cheryl Richman at McCann/NY for delivery by 9AM; and we were obligated to present another set in a long line of deliverables to our client, Sesame Workshop.

An architect who shared our floor rushed in and told us that a plane had hit one of the towers. We ran up to the roof to assess the situation, finding one building with a smoking hole in it, and another seemingly intact, but also damaged.

Among the sounds I was conscious of hearing that morning were first and foremost sirens from every kind of emergency vehicle –ambulances, fire trucks, police cars– and moving in every direction from every part of the city.

Despite the fact that our offices were more than a mile away, it was still possible to make out objects falling from the towers. Intermittent debris seemed to flake off the south tower, but from the north, a shocking procession of what we at once knew to be mortals fleeing some even greater horror within.

I knew that each building potentially held thousands of people, and each was a city unto itself, so I realized the magnitude of casualties must be immense. We still didn't know the tragedy was the result of a terror attack, so how to find meaning in this chaos?

It was then, briefly, that the sirens receded from my senses and I felt as though I stood in a silent bubble –a vacuum– watching the world change, from the surface of my skin to the sky above me, and right before my very eyes. And for those few moments, before another fire truck raced down Fifth or Park, all I could hear was the sound of my own blood rushing though my ears.

Monday, August 13, 2001

Too Many Notes To Choose From?

I returned to New York from Miami after attending the 2001 Winter Music Conference with the interesting observation that DJ's were not only trading in their turntables for laptops and recording software, but many were also abandoning the tag 'DJ' in favor of the more expansive title of 'Producer'. It didn't take a genius to realize that this trend would eventually result an increase in the number of creative audio options available to advertising agencies. And in fact, where there had once been a few music houses, soon there many boutiques, and the choices so plentiful that an ad shop never had to use the same audio house twice.

A lot of studio guys who had been in the business for years were still paying off their Neves and Studers would find themselves sweating bullets. But, since my partner and I were basically kids with laptops ourselves, I argued that if we could squeeze into the industry, then there was still room for more competition.

Now, whether or not this is actually true maybe for up for debate, but one thing is certain: The New Economy favors small, fast and lean –and over leveraged, top heavy post production companies were going to find themselves forcibly downscaled or simply overtaken by the unforgiving forces of market evolution.

The title of this article, 'Too Many Notes To Choose From?', is inspired by Emperor Joseph II's famous comment to Mozart that there were ‘too many notes’ in his music. Mozart replied there were neither too many nor to few notes than the composition required of it.

–Terry O'Gara


Too Many Notes To Choose From?
By Terry O'Gara
First published in Shoot, April 13, 2001

There has been a discussion in the music production community as to whether the number of people entering an already crowded field is reaching a saturation point. Ultimately it's a matter of perspective, but I think the repercussions are generally positive for all involved.

The reality is that many talented people out there now bypass the rigors of training at a large shop, and directly approach an agency. The reason being that you no longer need a multi-million-dollar studio to create first-rate music. A modest investment and your hobby can become a viable way to get immediately into the game. Or so it may seem. If you can manage to pound the pavement and find a way to stand out from the rest, then who's to prevent you from competing?

A decade ago this wasn't necessarily the case. But as the competition multiplies, music houses are definitely going to be niched. They are already. The variety of projects available to an established composer is significantly--and ironically, one might say--reduced. Regardless of what you're able to do, if it's not on the reel already, you won't get the job. Because clients now have such a wide range of talent to choose from, they're more likely to place their bets on someone who has already done exactly what a client wants to do for a current project.

This makes sense from the client's viewpoint--much to the detriment of many composers who need the work to expand their craft and abilities. But if stuck with a smaller budget, clients and composers have to take fewer risks and get it right the first time. Also, because licensing a ready-made track is much easier than creating an original piece of music, a client on a smaller budget will go for the former if it has already been created--by a recording artist or through a stock library, for instance. Whether or not a ready made track can address the branding issues of the advertiser or the campaign doesn't seen to make much of a difference as long as the experience of the spot is riveting. I'm not personally convinced that this is true, but it seems to be the tendency. And branded or not, a licensed piece of music has a good chance of hooking an audience that is already predisposed to listening to it in the first place. Since licensing does appear to be a growing trend, add it to the increasingly competitive climate of the industry.

One new difference does make someone on our side of the business optimistic: The avenues from which a music production house can generate revenue have also multiplied. Advertising dollars now only account for a part of the income pie. I started my career in 1991. Back then we only did commercials. Many houses still only do commercials, as they remain a lucrative business. But today a talented production team can make a living in a host of other media, as well--like electronic games, Web sites, in-store kiosks, special venues, sync to-broadcast and enhanced television projects.

New talents in shops like mine no longer have to sit in their studios waiting for an agency and/or client to believe music-makers can score that campaign right to the Clios. We can dive in and have fun with all sorts of new technologies and the new media they provide. Granted, none of these media generate the dollars that a steady diet of TV commercials does, but this variety keeps you on your toes and does provide composers and producers an opportunity to work differently. It keeps life from getting dull, and you're not allowed to repeat the same formula twice.

Sunday, July 01, 2001

The Ethics of Alpha Bits

Having read my response in a chat room regarding the ethics of working on various marketing accounts, the editors of CREATIVITY magazine asked me to re-package and contribute my thoughts to the June 2001 issue.

They titled the article:


CHEW ON THIS
Originally Published in Creativity Magazine, June 2001

Under what circumstances will one person decline to work on brand or product category based on a set of moral or ethical beliefs? A cursory examination of virtually every single brand out there uncovers a yet another moral dilemma for the philosophers in our midst.

Many in our business already to decline to work on tobacco advertising because of the health issues posed by cigarettes. But who feels so strongly about not working for a tobacco company that they would also decline Capri Sun, Country Time Lemonade, Crystal Light, Kool-Ade, Alpha Bits, Frosted Shredded Wheat, Grape Nuts, Oreos, Raisin Brand and Velveeta –or the umpteen other fine products brought to you by the folks at Phillip Morris.

Is there anyone out there who refused to worked on a certain alcoholic beverage because the frogs reminded you too much of Joe Camel? Is working n a red wine OK because it might emulsify fats in your bloodstream? Or is that still questionable, because overuse could contribute to long-term liver damage?

Have those of you concerned about global warming considered this issue when producing a car ad? Give the origins of the VW Bug, does anyone out there still have misgivings about the brand? If you have any concerns about colon cancer, should you really be working on products that feature refined white flour as their primary ingredient? If you’re concerned about cholesterol, should you really be doing “Got Milk?”, Kraft singles or any other kind of dairy product (excluding skim milk, of course)?

Does anyone with a dentist (or a diabetic) in the family object to working on a product that contains sugar? Does anyone working exclusively in print have a problem with his or her role in the continued deforestation of the Pacific Northwest? Are there any vegetarians who feel comfortable working on a McDonald’s spot?

Is there anyone out there who would decline to work on a specific brand but think it’s OK to then watch TV programs sponsored by that same brand? Are anyone’s convictions so strong that they’ve requested divestiture of objectionable companies from the portfolios of companies they’ like to work with (or their pension plans?)?

Will you, the vendor, work with an advertising agency on a seemingly innocuous product knowing that the very same agency has won a multi-million dollar campaign to promote a product you strongly object to?

Can't it be said that consumers must take some responsibility for the choices they make? Or are those brains ours, for the taking?

Thursday, June 14, 2001

Interactive Audio Manifesto

As Executive Producer for Blister Media, part of my job includes marketing the company to new breed technology/content companies who create advertising and entertainment for the web. Back in 1998, when we founded the company, I sketched out some ideas for a virtual vision statement, which I'm not sure ever got fully executed. But thought I'd publish some of those initial thoughts here under the guise of an Interactive Audio Manifesto. The title is tongue and cheek, but the bullet points may have some inspirational value–


INTERACTIVE AUDIO MANIFESTO


• Experimentation yields great advances in science and technology; The same is true for art.

• If your ears are hungry, feed them music.

• The consumer is your audience.

• Audiences demand to be entertained.

• They’re not just ‘eyeballs’. They’re eyeballs with brains.

• When given a choice, audiences don’t buy bland.

• Information and Entertainment are most effective when combined.

• Nothing identifies you like your face. Except your voice.

• Audio is most effective when used judiciously:

1. Use it to brand.
2. Use it to entertain.
3. Use it to convey information.

Anything else is wasted bandwidth

Wednesday, June 13, 2001

Tooting My Own Horn

A company's legacy is the sum of its people. Several years after my departure, Elias offered as part of its promotional literature, several pioneering 'FIRSTS'. Imagine my happy surprise to learn that I was a principle player in at least half of the ‘firsts’. Among them: • First to use music supervisors (I was on the first team of music supervisors)First bi-coastal music production house (I was on the first bi-coastal production team; and created SOP for the production of all in-house music, sound design and sonic branding projects for both the East and West Coast production offices).First Olympic music library with Meta tags and digital database (I was one of three internal supervisors/producers that created that first Meta tagged music library.)First commercial music company to do product sonification (I produced, or was part of a team that produced, the company’s earliest product sonification projects for AT&T and TeleTV)First company to do corporate audio identity systems (I worked on the company’s first corporate audio identity system –with Alexander Lasarenko– which was created for Elias Arts itself!) * * * Honestly, who really knows if any of these ‘firsts’ have any historic –albiet narrow– importance within the industry, or if they are all simply bits of a marketing mythology? Hell, I don’t care: it's a mythology business, and if current and future crews of Elias are as proud of the company's legacy, then I couldn't be happier to have made some small contributions to its development. It was a wonderful time with wonderful people, full of art and music and chaos and personality.

Tuesday, June 12, 2001

Every Beat Must End

I worked 361 days of the preceding twelve months before I resigned from the commercial music, sound and audio identity firm Elias Associates, now named Elias Music.

For the previous two years my typical workday started at 8AM and ended between 10PM and midnight. We were so busy and being a one man production department, it was simply the only way I could singularly produce both day and night shifts. Before that, I spent three years taking a nap at 8pm so that I could return to the studio at 2AM, to learn the technology and work on my own projects.

I had attempted to hire an assistant in the past, but after a training period of about six months, one young woman added up the hours and told me in no uncertain terms, "I don't want your job." –And then she quit!

We had four rooms in the New York office alone, three of them running two back-to-back, 12-hour shifts, resulting in at least one national spot going final every 2 or 3 days, -and one room devoted to early interactive audio projects where sound for games and theme park attractions was created.

It was, as '80's retail icon Crazy Eddie liked to say, "INSANE!"



In retrospect I was extremely lucky to make new strategic relationships and enjoy similarly inspiring working collaborations after my departure from Elias, but if I hadn’t, those few years would have made the rest worth it.

I'm especially proud of having had the opportunity to play an executive leadership role as part of a management team that essentially quadrupled revenues over a three year span, and evolved during my watch from an old economy music production house into the leading U.S. Sonic Branding and Sound Identity firm of its time.

Along the way I established Standard Operating Procedures for both New York and West Coast offices; promoted and managed collaborations with Machine Head, a west coast-based sound design company; repaired and normalized relationships with both the American Federation of Musicians and the Screen Actor's Guild unions; and I played a significant role in the a transformation of the company culture by actively and consciously recruiting new creative talent with contrasting talent and skill sets – developing a new paradigm of talent development within the company.

The result was that instead of a having a staff of composers who worked in relative competitive isolation from one another, as had been the case in the past, the company now enjoyed a sense that each project was open for collaboration.

It felt more like a band than a music house, and the diverse artistic perspectives and processes also contributed to the general development of the company's brand image as a creative solution provider, and not just a jingle factory.

Among the new team I scouted and either recommended for hire, or hired directly, were composers Fritz Doddy, Matt Fletcher, Todd Schietroma, Rich Nappi and Kerry Smith; also sales rep Debra Maniscalco, associate producer Jonathan Nanberg, studio manager Jennifer McGee, recording engineer Mario Piazza, and producer Keith Haluska.

I also developed and forged important external strategic creative relationships with many of New York's hottest upcoming young performers then bubbling up under the radar. Among these relationships, notable mentions for their contributions to our creative output must include: Trumpeter Chris Botti, guitarist Eric Schermerhorn, New York Philharmonic violinist Sandra Park, orchestrators Deniz Hughes and Tony Finno, and newly established vocal management firm, Val's Artist Management (aka VAMNATION).

I eventually found my own replacement in a young producer I had worked with a year or two before on a NEC job. Keith Haluska immediately impressed me with how much he loved music, –and the business of music– and so he struck me as a good fit for the company. He started in June '96, dovetailing my final departure by three months.

I suspect the relatively brief time I spent with Keith didn't actually make his job appreciably easier. One hopes, but you can’t wrap up an old role like a holiday package and give it to someone without part of the puzzle missing. All you can do is give them a few of the pieces, and hope they can make something out of it –their own thing. If you can accomplish that, then I think you can finally move away from the stage, back into the wings, out the back door, and into the street, where life awaits, ready to pick up where you left off, and where hopefully it has remained, waiting patiently to tease you with the next big thing.