Soft Synths, Analog Emulations, Noise Machines, Modular Synths – many choices of tools these days. I was humbled when a friend pointed out that my article Analog vs. Digital Synthesizers – My Take on the Old Debate made it to the very top of Google searches for “analog vs digital synths” (a Bob Moog interview was second – not a bad company to be in…). Sure enough, I have received tons of emails asking for my opinion on synth choices, creative synthesis approaches and about Studio CS gear during the past years. The article was cited in forums, in education, re-published on various websites, and visitors shared their great points and stories in the comments. Now we’re here in 2019, about six years later; a lot has changed on the electronic musical instrument landscape – or has it? The evolution of electronic musical instruments isn’t an exception from Moore’s Law from a technical aspect, but how about the evolution of their musicality? Certainly not doubling every two years; nevertheless, a topic interesting enough to explore in a sequel article. So, let the synthesis begin!
Even the emulation plugins are now sounding good – really good! But…
Thank to the increase of the average household computer’s processing power, to the greater efficiency of code and the hard work of dedicated R&D teams (fueled by a much-increased competition), we have reached the point where analog modelling plugins can actually sound damn good. Not only they provide high-quality sounds (like static sample-based rompler plugins already did 15 years ago), but now they act well, too: finally, some of the filter designs have gotten so convincing that it’s hard to distinguish a “sweep of the saw” happening in the box or via voltage in the transistor or diode. It’s impressive how close their sonic action has gotten to the classics they are often modeled after; just recently, I was recently beta-testing and creating presets for Brainworx’ brand new bx_oberhausen plugin (an Oberheim SEM emulation with expanded-functionality), and it really is super hard, if not impossible, to distinguish its sound and modulation behavior from my classic analog Oberheim synths. It was quite easy, and (for a plugin), unusually enjoyable to create uber-convincing presets for it – just listen to the character of the arp and the warm filter-action in this sample that I made exclusively from three of my own oberhausen presets (aside from reverb, no external eq or effects were used):
More and more software companies realize that the analog character is as much in the behavior, as it is in the emulation of the sound itself. Meanwhile, new plugins that are not meant to imitate a classic sound come out every day, and are just as good and exciting as they have ever been (I can’t wait to see what Magnus Lidstrom is cooking up next). So far so good!
However, a recently (seemingly) popular idea of software companies is to release emulations of early digital synths. Aside from price, I don’t see the value – why would you buy a basically sample-library-rompler-copy of a digital synth whose character mainly came from the patented (i.e. inimitable) way you programmed it, interacted with it, and how its (often unrefined) components shaped those compressed waveforms through their efficient algorithms, (usually) cheap reverbs and early D/A converters? The classic Casio-s, the D50, M1…even the Fizmo now come in unofficial plugin forms with fake names, matching colors and font types (reminding me of the Recbok shoes sold in Chinese flee markets for quarter of the price of real Reeboks…).
People don’t seem to understand that it’s not the static samples of a synth that make it special, it’s the way you interact with the instrument. Click on image for more.
What I’m surprised about is that most major companies are still ignoring the interface through which we interact with our instruments (read more about the great importance of this here). The default way the majority of people trigger plugins is the mouse (sadly, still alive and well in 2019), or maybe a run-of-the-mill feel-less keyboard, on a better day. Programming music by drawing static notes and linear automation lines in the MIDI editor is still the favorite way of most lazy “producers” – while the point of any musical instrument is to provide the performer with a seamless performance tool through which to express, and sometimes even expand, a musical idea and feel.
There have been some pioneers pushing the boundaries; some even too far off without making enough sense or doing market research (roli blocks, anyone?). By now, I was expecting the larger players of the industry to follow Robert Moog’s late vision with his theremin: music-making and instrument design to gravitate towards performance. That is, instruments that offer a flexible human interface and sound generator in one, integrating form and function into the same self-contained instrument – or at least connect to a dedicated software (like the Continuum, which has been successfully doing that since 2002!).
At least, there is more hope with controllers; I’m referring to those with usable interfaces, like the various wind controllers, the Seaboard or Enhancia’s Neova Ring (soon we’ll see how naturally it tracks finger movement) – but not referring to gimmicky toys like the AlphaSphere and the wi-fi MIDI gloves that rather belong in the arcade or circus than in the studio (sorry Imogen, you’re great but those are toys, indeed). Interestingly enough, most of the promising controllers and devices transmitting refined musical expressions come from small companies and startups. Sadly Yamaha gave up on developing advanced breath-controllers and I guess Roland had dropped its We design the future slogan for a reason…
An interesting question to debate is whether we need controllers that offer “new ways” to control our sounds, or rather new controllers that translate our well-defined and well-practiced expressions more accurately. While the former has the advantage of inspiring new expressions (therefore new kind of performances, sound design, and potentially even influencing the composition process itself), the latter could get us closer to finally expressing our musical intention and concept the way we naturally imagine it to being with. Are we going to see a split where developers either aim to teach new gestures to sonic experimenters, or learn acoustic instrument playing techniques themselves to create products for the seekers of organic performance gestures?
Either way, when it comes to alternate MIDI controllers, another limitation is the language (protocol) itself that is trying to describe complex and precise gestures: MIDI has changed little since 1982, and while it has been an amazing standard with a major impact on music creation (good and bad alike), its limitations now really get in the way of transferring high-resolution expressions between controller and host / generator. Control voltage came back in the 2000s, but requires the use of physical cables. Therefore, most new controllers opt for wireless (sometimes proprietary) protocols, which then limits their connectivity to the other components of the studio (not counting the option to down-convert to MIDI’s 128-value resolution). I love MIDI but it badly needs to evolve.
The good news is that, even though MIDI 2.0 has been talked about (and rejected) for many years, it seems to be becoming reality during the next year… or two, according to new announcements at NAMM. The new specs look promising (increased resolution, more standardized expressions, system recognition, full backward compatibility, etc.), but so far surprisingly few companies are expressing support.
Minimalist technology and toys: can simple sound great?
Hack, yeah. The growing circuit bending trends of the 2005-2015 decade (usually with questionably useful results) has been replaced by the “returning to the retro cheap stuff” trend of the recent years: finding new use for old, usually simple gear. Whether it’s a toy synth or a low-bit processor or a super-basic old instrument with a distinctly “bad” sound (i.e. not bad, just grainy, grungy, dull, thin, whatever… character), reaching back to simplicity is often the answer to rewarding new approaches and sometimes even new intent (let this sink for a bit… limitations of old technology driving new compositional approaches today… brilliant!). That simple old Casio sound processed with modern effects, or even just left raw but placed into a new musical context, helped many forgotten models to gain the appreciation of early re-adopters (and that of smart eBay sellers). This isn’t really a new idea; think of the intentional misuse of technology for creative results since the ’40s, or the re-emergence of the TB-303 or the SID chip in the ‘90s. But now the story of rebirth (pun intended) isn’t tied to a particular genre or style, rather to an “it’s so bad that it’s good” aesthetic – which is not a surprise, given the all-too shiny and overly “perfect” sound of today’s productions. What better way to add contrast than by throwing a simple and unrefined sound into the arrangement?
The Junk, the Stupid and the Badass. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference by looks. Click on image to compare.
However, there is another trend gaining popularity, infecting musicians who are trying too hard to be different for the sake of being perceived different: it’s the “make any noise and convince yourself that it’s cool” disease. Smart companies feed the snobs and bored bedroom sound designers with literally anything that looks unusual and makes any noise – sometimes literally just distorted noise that’s coming from a $300 box (which cost $10 to make). The victims believe that these boxes are ‘freaking-awesome cutting edge stuff’, thank to their clever marketing and nerdy presentation. In reality, these are just boxes with a couple of transistors and pots with esoteric sounding parameter names, and with knobs that actually do nothing special but add distortion, bit crush, white noise. Sometimes I read their specs, written in a pseudo-engineering language, only to amuse myself. As expected, their primary target audience is modular synth fans – but more about this later…
Affordable, educational and badass little synths
Now these developments are amazing. Today’s technology has made hardware synths so affordable to manufacture (while a competitive market has influenced business models to aim for lower profit margins), that the first time in history, anyone can get a POWERFUL sounding synth for under $300 – brand new! This includes true analogs, half-modular synths, classic synth reissues, new concepts and some really great-looking models full of knobs! It’s just astonishing what sort of sounds you can generate with these very capable little instruments. Kudos to Arturia for starting the trend on the large scale. The only drawback in this price range is versatility, but I expect that the new synthesizers of 2019 and 2020 will address that as well.
Used in education, sound synthesis can be finally taught without major investment for the students or the school, and at least with some preservation of performance expressiveness (as opposed to just clicking around with a mouse). Being also a teaching professor of electronic music production myself, I always look forward to hearing the work of students who are completely unexposed to electronic music and suddenly get to interact with real, physical electronic instruments the first time (well, I kind of force them to drop their mouse…:).
The modern analogs keep coming
The comeback of analogs started in the early 2000’s and it has only accelerated since the Moog Voyager. As the owner of several vintage synths, it’s a bittersweet feeling to witness how the old classics are reborn in retro-looking bodies, sometimes with original, sometimes with almost perfectly identical sound (and sometimes not… oh, Behringer…). Often the new cheap versions even de-value the vintage models while diverting the attention from the classics’ real value: their imperfections, which are rarely replicated.
These new imitations are not the same as the vintage models, but the reasons to spend time, money and frustration with keeping the old favorites alive (like my Yamaha CS-60 which is still unmatched by any modern replicant) are getting harder to defend. Dave Smith still keeps putting the magical character into his synths today (and included a wonderful pitch-fluctuation feature that I had been asking for for ages) – his synths have a unique vintage flavor but with the option to sound “modern and clean”. So many companies have gotten into the Modern Analog game recently, that we actually have more new analog synth models to choose from today than ever before in history(!).
For my taste, most modern analogs are still a bit too clean (see why, here), but can sound more powerful than any other synth. As always, there are bad examples, too, riding the waves of reputation, but in fact being cheap reproductions that only hurt the name of the original. My respect goes to the inventors of new and cool little analogs, less so to the businessmen who reverse-engineer and release cheap copies of classic analogs and market them as identical. Why would anyone prefer to cheaply imitate when they could rather create the new (analog) sound of the future?
However, it’s only natural to expect the same character and features of a classic instrument from its modern re-issue, but actually, it’s pointless to compare. Who cares if the OB6 sounds exactly like the OB-XA or if the new and old MS-20s and Odysseys are perfectly identical? Unless you’re in a Journey cover band, you shouldn’t. If it sounds good without a nameplate, just play it.
Modular synths – new tools or just an overhyped trend?
Now this is the controversial topic that I’m about to make controversial statements about. A polarizing topic that’s hard to ignore – but it sometimes makes me sick; I’m really getting sick of tech snobs who try to convince unsuspecting musicians and coolness-factor / trend -driven novice sound designers, that modular synths are a brand new way of making music that’s superior in some way… which of course is a complete bs. Another thing that makes me cringe is when self-proclaimed “synth wizards” talk about “modular synthesis“. Someone please explain to them that such term is nonsense; the choice between assembling a setup from modular elements as opposed to using an already assembled hardwired synth will not effect the type of synthesis (subtractive, additive, fm, wavetable, etc.) the machine employs. If anything, “modular synthesis” should refer to the practice of using a signal processing chain in which your audio and control voltage can be flexibly routed through blocks of function components – which is a similar idea to what you can do in any Digital Audio Workstation and a couple of plugins (actually, even in GarageBand): route with total flexibility.
Am I saying that modular synths are useless or functionally identical to non-modulars? Of course, not. They are (mostly) flexible tools, and when it comes to routing, many consider that flexbility as a source of freedom that allows the user to break traditions, expand the sonic possibilities. It enables the user to custom-build their setup, which can look and feel very tech-y and flashy (although often quite gimmicky – a popular choice of aesthetic these days for pseudo-complex live performances). If the setup is in the right hands, I’d agree with most of these benefits, so no real issues so far.
Modular analog synths are far from being a new concept; the first modulars came technically from the ’50s, practically from the ’60s (a’la Buchla, Modular Moog). Doepfer has been building them for decades… even the miniaturized Eurorack standard has been around for over two decades by now! The modular synth-building concept itself isn’t very unique either; actually teenagers have been using “modular synthesis“:p in a software form without knowing it: just think about the good old Reason, Reaktor, or their adult versions like Pure Data, Nord Modular, etc. from the 90s… these days they’re available for free or cheap (although the Nord G2 is still $2G for other good reasons). All of these systems allow a completely modular approach to synthesis in the digital domain. Or, you can take the other end of the spectrum with the Kyma Systems or the EigenMatrix for pretty insane flexibility – for those with lots of time and patience. Either way, modularity is a cool but old concept. So then what’s my issue with the modular snobbism of today and why had I decided to get out of the modular game just in time before it exploded a few years ago?
Modular synth? Not a new concept, but enjoys a new wave of marketing for sure. Click on the image for more.
The answer is simple: for me, a typical modular setup’s limitations exceed its advantages – when used to create the type of result I consider audience-facing music. Today’s re-emerged (usually Eurorack) analog modulars are extremely limited when it comes to creating a full musical arrangement: once you have assembled your purest oscillators, special-order filters and trendy-as-of-last-week modulation- and CV-controlled effect modules, you can successfully generate one (and often only one) part of your music. You want to hear what the second part sounds like (or perform it live)? Buy a second set of oscillators or signal splitters, EGs and pretty much everything else to play part #2. Have a complex arrangement? Your modular music shop will love you… (Those of you who are making the clever argument that modules can share multiple input signals and split control voltages… or speak of the creativity in committing to the sound and recording each part without audible context or the ability to modify: I am for limitations, but wait a second… wasn’t flexibility the main point of connecting modules with patchcords to begin with?)
Now, introducing the term music opens up discussions about modular synths to major controversy and debate, as it can be interpreted in as many ways as many people there are on this planet. So let me clarify: I’m referring to the type of electronic music that goes beyond just featuring cool sounds, and also communicates ideas, feelings, thoughts, emotions between the composer and a musically hopefully receptive (but typically non-technical) human audience via its deliberately composed harmonies, dynamics , structure and performance expressions. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy listening to some musique concrete (and even teach it in my electronic music class), and, I actually do like the work of a few modular synth performers. However, what I’m referring to here is the modular fanboi, creating an interesting sound, then thinking “hm, this sounds like a bird with a diarrhea, so let’s call this ‘music’ and name it diabird“. Without any concept, emotions, message, only by recording some random sounds and giving it a weird title, the outcome won’t necessarily gain aesthetic value as music. Here is a typical (even curated!) example of some beautifully emotional, musical modular performance (not!):
If you think this is awesome, please stop reading this article. We won’t understand each other.
I am not arguing that a small modular system isn’t suitable for creating some neat tracks or even emotionally rich pieces. What I’m stating is that, while limitations are great for creativity, too essential types of limitations can also seriously limit the potentials and scope of the expression of an idea (such as the structure of musical arrangement, musical nuances of a performance, etc.). If I want to express a feeling with a 5-part harmony, but I only have 4 voices, or if I suddenly feel the urge to add vibrato to a note I’m holing but vibrato isn’t patched in, then technology is not just keeping my work minimalist but is also compromising my creative ideas and expression.
Modular Tinkerers or Composers?
This must sound like an essay of someone who’s vehemently against modular synths; I’m frankly not. But I am certainly against the unfounded hype that they get these days. Where I see a cool benefit of having a modular setup is a studio that incorporates some modules into a more flexible and reasonably capable setup.
Funnily, many users of modular synths produce close to nothing complete with their equipment. Based on my own research and experience with modular synths, countless conversations with performing colleagues and friends alike (and after having been the co-organizer of a synth meetup that ended up turning into a modular nerdfest), I have found that the combined output of about seven (7) hard-core “modular only” users matches the musical output of one (1) typical electronic music composer / producer. This is not the case because modular work takes more time, rather because exclusive modularists are often rather tinkering enthusiasts without a message, than musicians with something to say. Another major aspect that’s usually missing is performance; not the knob-turning action (the same kind of action that modularists criticize DJs for), but the intimate connection with each and every note of an instrument that you play. With that said, nothing is wrong with having an amazing hobby, like cooking up interesting sounds, tweaking knobs for hours and drive your neighbors insane, showing your patches to like-minded individuals and keep expanding your setup with new toys until it looks like a misplaced Christmas tree. Seriously, modularism is as entertaining of a tech-hobby as assembling computers – but just like putting together computer parts doesn’t make someone a programmer, connecting synth modules with patch cords won’t turn one into a composer either.
Speaking of an “experimental mindset of modular performers” is also a grossly broad generalization. I remember the virtual analogue snobs from my early days of beta-testing new synths and demoing them at trade shows: they swore that their Nords and Waldorf VAs sounded more analogue, warmer, more powerful and had more modulation options than the Roland and Korg romplers of those days. And they were right. However, they were completely wrong about those synths being any better tools for music composition or sound design – they were just different tools. (Back in the mid-’90s I worked with Roland, and watched EDM-loving audiences deeply touched by performances and the lush preset(!) sounds coming out of the JD, MC and XP synths at some major shows, while the Waldorf exhibitors only attracted some nerds and JDs with their thick bass lines that kept looping for hours without any change but a filter sweep. (For the record, the story is not taking any stabs at the Waldorf brand; I like Waldorf synths quite a lot.) The same is true for modular synths, which are just another neat tool; however, I believe that due to the less musical, more technical approach to their use, and their limitations in polyphony & multitimbrality, they are not any more inspiring sound synthesis tools than a complex synth, and are actually less capable tools for creating complete pieces of musical arrangements than the average multitimbral hardwired or software synth today.
I can appreciate the freedom you get when picking and choosing the components of your modular setup and keeping the whole thing in a relatively compact form. It’s interesting to note, however, that 9 out of 10 modularists have only basic subtractive synthesis components in their eurorack: VCOs, LFOs, a couple of EGs, VCFs, and a sequencer. Hardcore modularists also use the sound design argument, namely, that you can do more with modular gear than with “conventional” synths. This is another statement that may be true – or may be completely false, depending on the units you’re comparing. While it is true that experimenting with a wall-sized super-modular system can be liberating when I comes to designing new sounds, there are also non-modular synths (both in hardware and software form) that allow you way more flexibility than a base eurorack loaded with conventional synthesis modules (think of the Doepfer A100 vs the Waldorf Quantum – or the Hartman Neuron, for an extreme example).
By the way, connect the output of any synth (or computer) to any guitar effect pedal… congratulations, you have just made your first modular synth! You can get some really neat stomp boxes for $25 on the used market. If you want to keep things flexible and unique, why stop at modular synths? Plug your household electronics into your studio (impedance matching advised:) for some truly unique sonics. Heck, turn your entire house into a big modular system!
This forum post shows that some people turn the art of creating music into a tool-collecting competition – how much more sad can culture get?
Missing the Point
There are many examples of over-hyped technology and product development trends that largely miss the point. The worst offenders on the top of my list are specialty mixing headphones (nice try), audiophile cables (waste of money over $10/m/channel), automated mastering algorithms (they should all die) and “intelligent” music mixing software (kill me)… and for most users, modular synths. I see a place for the trendy and ever-more-complex tools in the sonic wizardry scene (which, as a sound designer and beta-tester I respect and have been an active part of for decades), though I believe that these tools actually put 99% of users off-track, musically speaking. They are sold as inspiring electronic musical instruments, but most non-professionals end up using them for the enjoyment of a technical process. We do need hobbyists and software engineers who enjoy spending their time with comparing waveforms on oscilloscopes (like those acousticians who are after the “perfect” studio design, and those pixel peeping photographers who take more DSLR sensor test images than actual photos) – even if their work takes place with no musical goal in mind. But for creators and performers, getting wrapped up in the technicalities of the process can easily lead to missing the big picture: the photo, the music, the story. (Unless, of course, they have nothing to say anyway.)
Technology, including all type of synthesizers, should be the tools not the purpose in the creation of music, sound design, sonic experiences. Cool sounds, textures can be extremely inspiring, and sometimes the more unique, the better. They can become small elements or robust building blocks, and even the main focus of music – music, as defined above. But, creating sonic elements that never end up in a piece of music or a concept communicable via audio, is not writing and not performance. In my opinion, sonic experimentation is crucial in today’s electronic music, at the same time, experimentation only, without any goals, feel, concept in mind, remains no more than an act of toying around.
So, before we talk shop about oscillators, synths and music technology, let’s try to answer the most important question: Where is the Music?
I like some creators’ concepts a lot, but ironically, I’m not passionate about their music. And those artists’ music that I find exciting for stylistic or other reasons, often have a concept behind them that I can’t associate myself with – or have no concept at all.
This brings up an interesting question about the relationship between concept and taste. Should a piece of art that you find interesting have a concept that you can relate to? Does a concept that greatly interests you guarantee that you will like the art that’s formed around it? I certainly don’t think so. Yet, concepts can make a piece of art much stronger and more timeless. Concept albums ideally sprout from the exploration of feelings or ideas, opinions or facts, and express them through one or another art form. I say ideally, because technically we shouldn’t call an artwork concept-based if the work was retrofitted with a concept after it was created, but in some cases the realization or idea of meaning might actually come during or after the creative process.
Concept vs. Style
So how is it possible that I keep finding myself on either side of this equation but rarely in the intersection of them? I believe that the answer is: evolution of ideas and an organic process to create originality.
I see the “lack of finding work right in the intersection” problem as an opportunity for a natural evolution into new territories, aspiration to create the new, that will belong to that intersection – at least for some. Let’s say you love what an artist says about his/her inspirations, creative process, concepts that their music is expressing, but you don’t care for their music. It happens to me quite often that someone describes their ars poetica or creative process, which makes me excited to hear their music, but when I hear it, the music doesn’t resonate with me at all and I stop listening with disappointment. Artists, like all humans, subconsciously build their previous experiences into their own work; so what do creators do when they get inspired by a concept, feeling or idea but don’t agree with its expression? They create their own version to express it their way! Or create a variation of it. Or (sub)consciously build it into their own concepts. Either way, the result becomes something new. Like a story that gets embellished with lines borrowed from other stories and told differently every time. After a while it becomes a different story, filled with diverse roots and influences. Once you tell your own story (concept) your own way (musical expression), it should become a perfectly matched intersection between feel/idea and musical expression – at least for one listener: you. And when publicly released, the work can continue the process of influencing others by its concept (message) or by its design (music).
Is having a concept a must?
What about great music with no concept whatsoever behind it? As much as I appreciate original compositions and unique sonics (the value or originality in these is actually even measurable to a degree), I don’t think that it’s enough; I just don’t think that a conceptless album is as strong of a piece of art as the same release with a concept can be. After all, music is the most universal language (no, it’s certainly not math!) – but just beautifully speaking that language while having nothing to say isn’t appealing to me. However, once it’s expressing a message (whether abstract or concrete), the mix of that message and its expression can trigger a reaction with our own feelings (memories), which in turn can modify the intended meaning of the concept. It can effect us differently from the way it was meant to – isn’t that the basis of progression, though? Isn’t it beautiful how mutually influential the elements of concept and style can be?
One of my teachers in elementary school said, as the class was analyzing a poem, “What matters is not if you know everything about the circumstances in which the poet wrote this poem and you can analyze what he meant by every line. What matters is what the poem means to you.” So true. If it means something to you, if it effects you, it was worth creating it.
Ironically, I used to say quite often that my life is all about music, composition and sounds. Now 39 years into it I feel that music is “just” a tool, although an extremely powerful one, that we can use to communicate emotions and concepts with. However, those feelings and ideas should exist in us in the first place.
Art forms influencing each other
Another aspect of this theory that fascinates me is the cross-influence between various forms of art and expression. For example, a photograph at an exhibition might have a certain emotional effect on me. This emotion, combined (usually subconsciously) with my own related feelings can result in a new feeling, which then I express (and let my audience experience) – but not necessarily through photography, but music. Or sculpture. Or another expressive form. Thematically there might be no detectable link between the original photograph in the museum and the music track on my album, but the emotional connection (translated by my own experience of those emotions) might be extremely strong. In fact, it can be stronger than just to call it influence – it might be a variation of the same message (but without any relation to the way it was expressed by the original photographer). We could even think of it as my personal musical score to the original photograph – without having an understanding of how the photo made it’s photographer feel in the first place. But without that photo, my expression of it wouldn’t exist either.
Based on this thinking it might be unsurprising that many composers (myself included) are more influenced by other forms of art than other pieces of music. (I’m actually working on an “influence gallery” for this very website.) I believe that influence should be more about a new interpretation of the concept, the feeling, the idea (of another type of work or experience), than the kind of musical expression (style, melody, etc.) that was used to bring it to light and which you might like. Again, a photo or a country song with a strong concept might have a bigger effect on the originality of my work in electronic music, than hearing electronic music with a similar style to mine. In the latter case, I’d be more likely to subconsciously copy elements of expression (melody, harmony, rhythm, texture, performance), as opposed to be thematically influenced by an idea.
Musical concept, feeling, meaning, influence and re-interpretation. The relationship between concept albums, creators and audiences. (click to open large)
So then why do interviewers always ask about our musical influences? Isn’t that just asking about the wrong side (the language, not the story) that you might have grown up with and actually can’t get out of your subconscious? If anything, that kind of influence is actually a narrowing factor in the originality of your expression, rather than an actual influence on your message. When listening to me speaking about my music, wouldn’t you be more interested in what stories, feelings, ideas we might have in common, than what kind of music we both grew up with or enjoy listening to (the “packaging” we both prefer before we unwrap the message)?
You will see another funny thing when you look at the middle area of the diagram on the right. The parts that many producers, writers, etc. focus on the most is technology. While production technology (i.e. recording software, the engineering, the studio) can greatly influence the musical expression (hence the dark blue arrow pointing left, back from production to expression), it is a relatively small part of the overall journey, and this reverse direction (using the technology as an idea-generator and not as a tool to translate one) can even be responsible for a disconnect from the original concept… just think of those instances when a suddenly found “cool sound” caused your work to deviate from the originally intended feel.
My conclusion – and advice
Understand your own message but do let yourself be influenced by others’ interpretations.
Don’t let technology interfere in impressive but irrelevant ways – experimentation is fantastic as long as it is purposely channeled towards enhancing your initial concept.
Rather, be open to get influenced by experiences, concepts, feelings coming from other forms of art than yours. Unlike those “how to break writer’s block” articles that tell you to listen to more music of your peers, or copy the style of other composers, I suggest that you first figure out what you want to say and focus less on how you want to say it. A strong concept will inspire the “how”-s automatically.
I am ready to make a few unusual and some expected commitments for the year 2014. Although these are coming from personal realizations, opinions and circumstances, I’ve decided to share three of them with my audience (with some explanation included), hoping that some of you might find them inspirational (or thought provoking) and applicable for your own life or work. Plus, putting them out for listeners from all over the Planet to read will force me to actually stick to them…
Resolution #1: I will not purchase new software or hardware
This is actually harder than it sounds. Trying to leave my “gearhead” past behind, it might not be possible to simply ignore new developments and cool products. But, even though I won’t unsubscribe from the 20+ music technology related e-newsletters I am receiving on a weekly basis, the real challenge will be making the decision notto purchase the latest and greatest equipment or plugin. Why? I could simply say “I have more than enough gear in Studio CS” (and this would be the truth), but then you would say (if you’re a gearhead): “You can’t ever have too much gear!”. As I used to think the same, it might need some explanation why I think otherwise these days.
The less gear you have, the more you have to try: try to come up with unconventional solutions, try to get more out of what you have, try new and unusual combinations and end up with new and unique outcomes. Less convenience makes you think and work harder. Faster processing and more memory, more software, bigger algorhythm do not mean better music.
There are so many examples to put this in a wider perspective. For instance, think about the computers NASA used in the ’60s and ’70s. Their most complex program was 6 MB and Apollo 11 was guided to the Moon and back to Earth by a computer with 64 KiloBytes of memory and a processor running at 0.05 MHz – about the speed of a pocket calculator. Yet it was enough to assist a mission that changed history. Or, think about the Synclavier or the Fairlight CMI sampler of the early ’80s, with their processor running at around 1 MHz, both were responsible for amazingly realistic sounds in the works of many composers of the day.
I look at software similarly. Typically, what you will find in the newest versions, latest upgrades, is convenience. New features and functions might be marketed as “new capabilities”, but in fact, I have not come across any “new capabilities” for several years now, any features that wouldn’t have been possible to achieve before – usually in more complex but also more flexible ways. Whether we’re talking about new variations of formant synthesis, sequenceable effects processing, automation matrix or other “this will triple your creativity” gimmicks, it’s been all out there for those who choose to go beyond clicking on preset buttons – and it’s been around for a long time. This makes me think of the good old times that I was spending in front of the early version of Cubase (the whole program fit on four 3.5″ floppy discs), being more productive than ever.
I believe that we have passed the point where the advantage of the accelerated technical progress was practically measurable in most fields (the medical profession might be one of the exceptions). While more or less following Moore’s law, technological advancement is accelerating exponentially, in my opinion the benefits are only advancing logarithmically (the pace of change of the effect is decelerating). This brings the latest 64-channel theater surround sound systems to mind – as impressive as it sounds, I wonder how many listeners will perceive and actually enjoy its benefits over today’s 9.2 systems (knowing that most people can’t even distinguish a 5.1 from a 7.1 experience).
So, do we really need GigaByte-sized operating systems and TeraBytes of samples to create amazing sounds and music? (And let’s not even open up the analog can of worms here.) Taking this a step farther in light of the Apollo example: does the world need faster and faster technology to make history? Do we need to run fast to get farther and see less, or rather slow down and enjoy the journey? As for me… using technology as an occasional aid, it’s time to enjoy a healthy mix of the easy-to-miss wonders of yesterday and the creative challenges of tomorrow.
Resolution #2: I will use my smartphone less
I do like the “everything at one place” aspect of smartphones. I appreciate the practicality of the minimalistic algorhythm and small application size that runs on them. But I hate that they are leading the way in letting technology drive and schedule our lives, instead of inspiring us to free up time we spend with daily routines, and replace it with real productivity. Everyone knows by now how companies love to provide cellphones to their employees (to effectively extend their work hours without pay). But people are equally at fault. How many times do you check your phone a day? Some statistics say the average user does it 23 times, some research mentions numbers over one-hundred… either way, it’s too often. What’s the point of checking your emails, social networking status, weather, etc. constantly? How come no one felt being left out of the loop 15 years ago when launching your email once in the morning and once in the evening was enough? People still networked, and actually kept relationships more personal and reliable.
I do not want to waste any more time than I must with these routine tasks and I do not want to let technology become the purpose, rather than the tool. If I save only 3 minutes on average by turning on my phone only 10 times less a day, that’s already half an hour a day (over a full week per year!) that I can use my time for more useful activities. Let’s be the smarter one of our phones and ourselves.
Resolution #3: The New Album…. I will finally finish it and it shall be released.
My original plan was that first time in my life, I can spend all the time I want to compose music and sounds for my 8th studio album – one that is especially close to my heart. I even proudly shared my “no deadline” approach with some of my friends and students: “if it takes many years, then it takes many years… I won’t release it until I feel it’s near perfect”. The process started in 2009, and had no planned release date. After I delayed the release date several times, I have come to realize: what sounded good in theory, wouldn’t work in practice, for at least three reasons:
1. I’m never 100% satisfied with the mix of my own works, so technically the album will never be 100% finished. I just have to accept 98%. And due to the nature of music production, it takes about the same amount of time to get form zero to 98% as much it takes to get from 98% to 100% – there is always something to improve. Often I’m not even sure if I’m really improving on a detail or just moving over horizontally to explore another option. So those last 2% just aren’t worth the time.
2. Having been receiving your questions about the release date from all over the Planet at an increasing rate made me finally realize, that I owe it to my listeners to put out the new materials in a reasonable time. Working on my music by myself for too long is not only exponentially less productive (see above) but also exponentially more selfish.
3. Not wrapping up the first album (of my new concept album series of 4 albums) will prevent me from moving on, shifting my thoughts to the second topic and start working on the 2nd album.
I take this opportunity to thank everyone who inquired about the new albums and ensured me of their support. I’ll be proud to have you as a VIP passenger on this musical journey in 2014.
“What’s wrong with not being original?” – asked the celebrity and stepped back into his mansion.
Too Many Options
Brian Eno once said: “What you need are fewer possibilities… that are more interesting. It’s not more options that you want, it’s more useful options”. I think this is more true today than ever, and I might add: those few useful options will often come from the least obvious sources. So you want to be different, express your individuality, your personal message, come up with original content? Think about how you could make your process simpler. Think about how you could use gear that not everyone uses (sorry, NI). Restrict your convenient options – set up rules that prevent you from taking the same route from idea conceptualization to production twice. Work within these new set of rules, then destroy them and create new ones. Give up as much convenience as much you can handle. Let me know what results you have achieved.
When it comes to gear or software, there is a certain temptation for many of us who like diversity in sound generation and processing, to have lots of it. However, the truth is that you have to allow time for yourself to grow up to your gear. It’s kind of like a friendship. To make new friends every week and spend thirty minutes weekly with each new friend will less likely result in a strong friendship, than meeting fewer people and getting to know them better. Which situation do you think will get you farther, a lot of acquaintances or a few close friends? So, after you have gotten to know your gear down to the smallest details, let yourself run out of the obvious options; that’s where the real discovery starts. The reward comes when you start taking different than usual approaches to achieve interesting results. I’m not talking about ignoring the presets here, I’m referring to more or less ignoring the whole system (long live Anonymous!) – the methods by which the instrument or piece of equipment is supposed to be used.
I realize that I am also guilty of surrounding myself with too much gear. I remember the times when I had a very small studio and I was able to operate it with my eyes closed (literally – even navigate in sub-menus of certain equipment). Some of those pieces are still part of Studio CS today, and I keep on finding new and interesting ways of using them. On the other hand, I still have a lot of experimenting to do with my current setup, to venture into the sonic excursions I haven’t taken before. Not only I refrain from using any presets, but I’m rarely satisfied with the results that come from the “normal use” of these pieces of gear. Ultimately, I often gravitate back toward using the equipment I had developed a more in-depth “relationship” with. (A neat example would be my Yamaha PSR-6 synth, which is basically a toy that I had bought on eBay for $20, to bring back the memories of my first childhood keyboard, a PSR-2. Today, it certainly does sound like a toy, yet those sounds are part of game menus and movie soundtracks you might have already heard… yes, a $20 synth in major productions. Other sounds from this “toy” even found their way into my upcoming album [edit: the already released forgotten future], after some multi-tracking and lots of processing. Makes me think of pointless conversations about 192kHz and the need for pristine-sounding elite preamps…
This is not to say that less is always more. Although, if you are a new, aspiring composer or producer, less is definitely more, more becomes more after (many) years of use experience. With the friend analogy, once you have a few really close friends, why not have a couple more who you can get to know just as well? But it definitely takes thousands and thousands of hours to get to the point where one can utilize a studio full of equipment in a truly original ways. Most gearheads think that it would be so cool to take over a professional studio for a week… imagine what would happen if you had all the gear you can imagine at your disposal? There is a great (I believe Hungarian) phrase to describe it: “the abundance of confusion”. Probably you wouldn’t get much interesting music done, unless you resorted to using a couple of pieces of gear.
Reflex meeblip SE – it doesn’t get much simpler than this, you would think. Actually, with an interesting combination of processes, even this simple piece of gear (the simplest equipment in Studio CS) is capable of reaching a wide range of unique sonic territories.
Several years ago I actually went through a period when I couldn’t get the music in my head realized the way I imagined – for a few months, none of my sessions were productive, at least by an elevated standard of originality. It was quite frustrating: sitting in the studio full of equipment, with ideas in my head (so not a “writer’s block”), yet I wasn’t able to get my idea to the point of solid realization. I thought I was ready to use a great diversity of technology simultaneously – turns out I wasn’t. After many lost session, I solved this issue by temporarily eliminating most of the equipment from my process and using only a couple of pieces. It worked great. Then I would designate a couple of months to work only with a very limited set of equipment, to get the most out of each piece according to my given needs. You would think of this masochist method as restrictive, but it was quite the opposite. After years of working this way, I have almost grown up to Studio CS and developed a really good yet different “connection” with each piece.
Lack of true physical connection
Cables. They’re great. They let you be modular. They let you break rules. They let you hold your sounds and music in your hands while you’re deciding where to send them next. Cables stand for hands-on, physical connections and outboard gear. No plugins, no mouse, no updates, no launch errors, no forced upgrades. They represent the real stuff, something tangible. Virtual connections are just like software – flexible, convenient, but try to grab the ones and zeros they are made of. They don’t exist. Cables definitely do… and have something physical on both ends. A tube compressor. An analog synth. An effect pedal. There is nothing wrong with using virtual connections, but at least, try to combine the best of both words and keep some real cables in the part of your signal path that you wouldn’t even think could be used creatively.
Spare cables with undetermined purpose laying around before my recent studio relocation. I love cables; in my mind, they represent flexibility and provide an experience to music production that’s as far form a mouse pointer as it gets. Sure, they’re messy. So is cooking, as opposed to junk food from the drive-thru.
Speaking of physical connections, I have to mention the very interface we use to input music into our sequencers or recording software. These days we use software for most everything, and from year to year it takes less and less effort to interface with computers. The mouse is going out, leaving space for the one- and more finger-operation of touch screens. While I recognize their advantages and superiority over the mouse, I believe that they can’t yet replace (but rather complement) the act of physically touching actual 3-dimensional objects – in music production, these can be sliders, faders, buttons, knobs, dials, keys, keyboards, strings, sticks… you name it. The expressiveness we can transfer through, and the tactile feedback we receive from these objects is much more diverse than using a flat-surface touch screen for everything. We use a mouse or two fingers for browsing, email, work, shopping online, watching movies online… shouldn’t the process of creation be utilizing some different gestures than those that we use throughout the day anyway? No wonder that some of the electronic music instrument developers see the future of music technology in the way we interface with our instruments, rather than the sound generator itself. Robert Moog realized this early on, and focused on theremins before he re-started his synth manufacturing operation in 2002. Even then, his biggest new addition to the Voyager (relative to the Model D) was the 3-axis control pad. (More about the consequence of diverse interfaces and the advantages of physically generating and performing music in my Analog vs. Digital synths article.)
More analog and digital cables at Studio CS. Some connect synths to effect units, others connect seemingly unmatchable pieces of gear, taking the sound to a new direction.
Templates and signature sounds
Sometimes a computer virus can be a good thing. Of course, they are a curse when they strike just before you wrap up an important project and they wipe out your drive. But when you “only” lose the old files or templates you use for your projects, a virus can be a great benefit and have a healthy cleansing effect on your creativity. Having to re-create things or start from scratch in most cases ensures that you’re going to end up with different, often more interesting results, maybe better ones than what you would have gotten with your trusty templates.
In music, repeating yourself is too easy; it’s for the lazy and those who prefer convenience over originality (see quote on top). Of course, I’m talking about independent work – not industrial production work, like film scoring or mainstream songwriting, where safety, convenience, speed, trends and even imitation can often be more important (and better paid for) factors than originality; it usually doesn’t matter if the composer uses his or her template (or even “borrows” someone else’s), as long as it fits into the process: done as expected, submitted on deadline. For these quick and efficient type of projects, viruses can halt production and cause serious financial damage.
About a decade ago I stopped saving my sounds and settings into the synths and processors I created them with. I decided to deliberately cause this inconvenience for myself, to make sure that even when one of my previously used sounds would work well in a new piece, I would have to create a new, original one. I have not regret it a bit. Just think about the pre-digital times, when sounds, effects, mixing settings couldn’t be saved simply by pushing a button. How much more originality came from that era, when most sounds and most every piece of music was created from scratch, and was often impossible to repeat (perform) the same way. Originality wasn’t a goal artists were forcing, it just happened organically. Even the patch drawings (of settings) didn’t give the composer exactly the same results every time.
The only two exceptions from this practice are performances and signature sounds. If the style of a composer or producer is heavily characterized by the sounds or instruments used, sometimes it’s understandable if s/he wants to re-use these elements; that is, if the reason is not laziness but the desire to evoke the feel of a previous music piece, to create a link to an earlier work (hopefully rather an emotional, than a promotional link), or to perform the music live. For instance, I have kept three of my used-to-be signature sounds (they come from the time of Mountain Flying) but have used them maybe three times in the past 15 years. The main lead sound from Mountain Flying I, II and III had been quietly resting in a sound module for years before I decided to use it again for the lead part of Fly Away (on Transitions). Fans had been asking for a sequel to Mountain Flying, and though I was not intending to create a sequel album, one day in 2004 the track Fly Away was born. My old MF sound not only worked perfectly for the lead, but was largely responsible for bringing back the feel of the windy, snow-covered mountains from 1999’s Mountain Flying.
1999’s Mountain Flying CD Cover (Periferic Records original edition)
Signature sounds and live performances aside, I can only respect and celebrate those composers and producers who sound themselves but do not sound the same over and over again – especially in electronic music, where texture is a major building block of music. I suspect the same applies to painters, sculptors, graphic artists, videographers, animators, writers, poets and most everyone who creates original work – where templates can be the enemy of originality. Convenient, but limiting: they might not let you see different directions, take new approaches, change up the usual process.
Have you discovered some other not-so-obvious enemies of originality? Comment or let me know.
This year I finally realized, how insignificant and meaningless the NAMM show (the largest music- and audio technology exhibition) has become to me from a musical perspective. Most “new” products are all about either re-selling old ideas, re-creating vintage equipment from the ’70s & ’80s in a cheaper, plastic-y (but usually more amateur-proof, more convenient) package, or making complex or experience-based processes easy for beginners, so that they can get “professional” results with a push of a button, without needing to have a clue about what’s really happening in the background, and enjoy the results – which can sound just like their favorite “Major Artist” (more about this in a later post). So where are the truly creative products? Those that make you think and work harder to achieve genuinely different (dare I say: original) results, which will enrich the cultural legacy that we leave behind on this planet…? I can’t see very many.
Don’t get me wrong, I love to use technology; I have been using it for as long as I can remember working with audio and music (28+ years). The trend I’m really not interested in, and frankly I’m against, is how digital technology is making humanity lazier, easier to get impressed, but less skilled, way less creative, and ultimately less happy. We can’t even begin to describe the difference between how Schaeffer or Moog must have felt when creating something original, never before heard/seen, and how users feel today when they finally figure out how they can get to a menu in their newly upgraded software. I’m certainly not criticising the advantages that technology brings to the medical fields, to various sciences or to the military, and not disputing its benefits (at least for their respective users) either. My issue starts where technology becomes more than a tool, it becomes a way of thinking, a way of life: it becomes the purpose. The time when you start depending on technology to carry out fundamental human actions (cooking, entertainment, learning, creating art or simply being happy) and to interact with others (communication or expressing emotions in other ways), is precisely the point when it starts making you, and your creations, less human. I believe that a large portion of our society has already passed that point.
“Sure…”, you might think, “this is an old argument that I have heard many times”. I have, too, yet I don’t see that the majority would agree, and would stop supporting and praising the exponential technical “evolution” of the human race. Is it really evolution, when you become a technology-dependent user? I have been listening to some of my otherwise pretty smart friends for years, talking in awe about how fantastic their new xyz music production- or photography software is, because with it they can effortlessly and conveniently produce the “perfect” results (which, in my opinion, doesn’t exist anyway, not to mention that “perfect” should be a moving, evolving target, not a stationary idea). I understand that for those who can’t hum a tune or take a snapshot with a film camera, toys can be great; they let them play around and make fun things that otherwise they would not be able to. But, if you consider yourself an advanvced amateaur, not to mention a professsional… your goal should definitely not be making your pieces to sound or look like the mainstream, nor to get results in a convenient way thank to some dumbed-down processes.
I have recently watched the biographic movie of the late Joseph Weizenbaum, who realized the curse of AI (after spending the majority of his life as one of the pioneers who helped paving AI’s way), and in the same film, listened to the idiotic, demagogic (and surprisingly naive) monologues of self-proclaimed futurist, Ray Kurzweil. It’s a great documentary. Then, when further researching the subject, I came accross excerpts from the movie on YouTube, and sadly found that most user comments are blindly supporting Kurzweil’s ideas and are describing singularity as the ultimate human experience and heaven-like state achieved with technology. They just really don’t get it… does it seriously require so much of humanness in our hearts and brains to understand why you don’t want to become an always happy, “perfect” humanoid thing? Or, why it’s not a great idea to replace your good and bad memories with only positive ones, modified by ones and zeros custom-designed for you – and call it total happiness? I guess the “make it a good day” phrase would get a whole new meaning… Has Kurzweil not seen (or get the point of) Bruce Willis’ Surrogates? Instead of a “perfect” life for 150 years, I would personally go for a shorter one that is filled with realism and adventure – no question about it.
How ironic – from the ’60s through the ’80s, the “human machine” used to be a futuristic idea, which was different enough to be cool, but was not meant to be taken too seriously, at least not as a plausible and desirable future (nor did it take itself too seriously). From 1978 on, Kraftwerk’s Die Mensch Maschine let us imagine an alternate yet clearly fictional reality, it let us play the role of a machine – the keyword being play. Playing is imagining, imagining leads to creating. Creating means using our brain not to repeat, not to copy, not to imitate, but to invent what doesn’t exist yet, to express thoughts/feelings in ways that have not been expressed before, as each of us has a unique view. To enrich the human history with something that is fundamentally new and original, and human, something that wouldn’t exist without you or them or I creating it. Those were great times.
But, now in the 21st century, wealthy “futurist” tyrantopaths and powerful companies are actually making purpose-lost humans believe, that living a virtual or by-choice software-supported life is cool and that the convenience of imitation (as opposed to creation) is what will make everyone’s life better and happier. They state that a “perfect” human will have a “perfect life” (apparently they haven’t taken a look at depressed lottery winners, wealthy hardcore drug-addicts, alcoholic- and bankrupt celebrities, etc.). Hiding behind misused words (like creativity) and syrupy advertising (you can create anything), they are managing to convince a large portion of population, that by clicking around in a simplified, purpose-built software, the user can actually get really inventive and achive the euphoria of creating something totally new, that was only possible for those with some specialized equipment, extreme dedication and (too much) time a few decades ago. They’re smart marketers; “optical illusions have gotten old, let’s keep everyone entertained with the technical illusion (and make a few billions along the way)”.
What does all this have to do with the NAMM show and music composition/production? Technology in music has served humans really well until is was enabling us more to come up with new ideas than to replicate old ones easier. Just like in many other areas, it has become a simple, quick and cheap way for anyone to imitate ideas – ideas, which have been already conceptualized and executed a long time ago, by those who pushed the boundaries of their mind, not (just) the technology of their times. Those who got something more out of new technologies than the masses (think of tape recorders and musique concrete). Technology is not inspiring users to push the boundaries of originality in music or sound – despite of what your favorite music store’s email newsletter tells you. If you have listened to mainstream radio or have seen what’s been coming out of Hollywood for the past decade, you know what I’m referring to. (It would be nice to have a recognized and truly independent award for those rare exceptions).
I do think that there are no limits to the extent and form of originality that one can come up with in music and sound today, despite of the sheer volume of ideas that the entertainment industry has wasted as over-exploited musical products, which it shoved down the consumers’ throat, especially in the past thirty-plus years. Ideas are so much more powerful and diverse than technology is! I often tell my students not to let technology drive their creative decisions, but the other way around – the leaders of the music technology industry seem to be on the opposite side (unlike some exceptional, respectable small companies).
“I’m the artist of the future!” – Let’s make everything perfect, like on TV.
I urge programmers and software engineers to design products that help users to push the limits of our imagination, not the speed of the processors, and to contribute to the real progress of the human race, not products that make our lives overly comfortable and only seemingly happy. It might already be too late for that, as most users don’t realize how limiting this modern-day dependence actually is (try to get a sense for this dependence by turning off everything digital for a week in your house and at work), and they support it by favoring convenience and the illusion of their personal creative evolution, over creative thinking and hard work. This is especially true for today’s electronic music. Do unsuspecting users seriously think that the latest xyz plug-in that takes their sound closer to an [insert ‘major’ artist name] -track will open up their world of creativity and get their music launched into some brand new musical landscape? Do they seriously think that buying Native Instruments’ latest six-hundred-forty-million Terabyte sample library will help them to get their name written into the music history books? I hope you don’t. Real success happens when you are creating from your own, completely original ideas, your uniquely expressed feelings, personal experiences and memories that you turn into sound, music, image, etc., and when you let go of control and give space for happy accidents to happen.
According to Brian Eno, “Perfection is characterlessness”. I could not agree more. Throughout my career I have composed music both with the intention of creating “perfection” relative to industry expectations and trends, and also music not limited by particular guidelines or standards. I feel that my more predictable, more “perfect” pieces could have been created by many other composers… but those that were not born from the application of the established approaches, processes and techniques, but ventured off to take unplanned, untested directions while disregarding any routines or expectations, became the ones that would not exist without my existence – in turn, making my existence, and humble contribution to humans’ musical legacy, worthwhile.
My point? Next time when you’re enjoying the latest and greatest all-in-one easy-to-use music production software and feeling creative, challenge yourself by turning it off, grabbing a microphone and an object that you’d unlikely to ever record, or grab that $20 old toy synth (or other instrument with seemingly limited capabilities) from eBay, and start creating an experience. Instead of starting with a mass-produced algorhythm and your mouse, try some of the most human methods: discovery.
Singularity? The day when we trade our individuality for perfection – I despise that idea. We are alive as long as we are unique. Spending your money with companies that don’t sell you fake “creativity” but actually enable you to find your voice and ideas, will not only get you farther in your artistic endeavors today, but will help you to step on a currently unpopular road to an alternate, totally crazy, almost unimaginable and unbelievably human future as well: one with less perfection and less convenience.
