Living Music

Having just come from a lovely hour at the Neutral Ground, and in light of yesterday's post, today I will write on the experience of live music: how it is worth money on a different scale from recorded music, how the experience of it differs from other music forms, and how it affects our society. But first, I will stop watching youtube videos of Who Dat.

The fundamental difference between recorded and live performance is the audience's ability to interact with the performer and with each other. We experience the music-making together, instead of partaking in it as a consumer good at some later date. As a community of ears we hear something unique being made, and we can pay close attention to the details of the craftsman at work.

I will pay a few dollars to listen to a handful of songs once live, but I rarely pay a few dollars to buy recordings. When I witness the craftsman/musician and share the moment with him/her and the community, my empathy butts out my calculating reason and convinces me to be a pillar of the community and support the artist. When I browse Amazon or the record store, said empathy is lost, and the best a musician can hope for is an impulse buy or, very rarely, a sought-after grail of music. The difference is empathy, relationship, between myself and the artist and the community of music-lovers, and that is itself worth something.

Relationships like this (and like watching sports together, or sitting on a plane) give us a minimal contact with others that helps us define our common humanity. They are temporary and focused away from ourselves towards some object who is objectifying himself (such as the musician or sports team) or towards a common act (such as riding the bus or a plane, or even going to work). These relationships demand almost nothing from us in terms of empathy, barrier-lowering, or other methods to promote personal intimacy. Live music helps all of us remember how we are human - through being together. (whoa double meaning, did you catch that?)

Live music, then, has become an integral part of social gatherings. A football game is not the same without a live band - a good PA does not pass. And we all know about church and music. A good choir that is in tune with the tastes of the congregation (and with a meaningful, rich liturgical/theological message) can really improve the mass. A stereo with a cd cannot do this. We are emotionally invested in the choir, whereas we do not care about the recorded praise music. We create the music together, they are our brothers and sisters, and we sing, ourselves. Our connection with the choir and with each other through music symbolizes and actualizes the presence of God. And I am very ready to say that God is present in a special way at the Neutral Ground, and even on Bourbon Street.

I am a very harsh critic of liturgy, and especially of liturgical music. Not until the UPIC masses in Leuven (thanks to Gabriella), and now at Ignatius Chapel (thanks to Ken), have I been brought to the place of relational selflessness that allows me to be spiritually present and fully participate in the mass. I am still hit-and-miss. The line of good liturgical music is very thin, so fine that I did not believe it existed. But now I do believe, so much so that I help organize the sung Vespers once a week. By singing these ancient songs we not only connect with each other (in an unusually intimate way due to the small size, regular participation, and actual friendship), but also to the past and future generations of singers of these same songs, all over the world.

Good music brings life, in the form of recognized humanity through relationship. So it is no wonder that live music brings more life.