“oh papa i hate this! isn’t there something else we can listen to,” anna snapped as she pushed the small TV off the table. it landed with a metallic thunk, its antennae snapping off. “it’s so gross and dumb. why do those girls always shake their butts and why is that ugly black guy with all those tattoos jumping around and singing like that? it’s not even music and i hate it!”
across the room papa was working on a musical script for a play he was producing. he sighed, walked over to anna and sat down beside her. anna stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak. after a brief pause of thought, papa exhaled and smiled. he admired her look of consternation.
“well anna, do you remember what i told you about the spirit of the age and what the capitalist revolution did to the music industry?”
anna shifted a little and paused a moment, trying to remember correctly so papa would be impressed. she brushed her hair behind her ear and began.
“umm, you said that it revolutionized the modes of production, enabling a sudden increase in the experimental forms of music, right?”
“that’s right. and do you remember what else?”
“yeah… you said that it would eventually reach a point where… umm, the motive for profit and productive efficiency would become adverse effects?”
“yes, anna, very good! but adverse effects against what, exactly?”, papa inquired. she straightened her posture nervously and pursed her lips as if in deep thought.
“the experimental novelty of music. you said that eventually, music would become more formulaic and standardized because the market would adjust to consumer expectations for predictability and familiarity in the music. then you said that musical integrity would be slowly debased because of such commification.”
papa laughed out loud, smiled at anna, and ruffled her hair. she looked at him aghast and confused by his laughter. “that’s ‘commodification’, anna” he reassured her. anna shifted her eyes away from papa’s as if embarrassed at her minor mistake, then confidently regained her composure. “yeah that’s what i meant.”
“and why do we find such vulgarity and profanity in that rap music that was on the TV?” he asked.
“because it’s the only thing the intellectually inferior class of consumers who listen to it, can understand and appreciate, that’s why. that music characterizes their base, animalistic desires at the crudest level… things like power, sex, and wealth. you said they like the music because through it they identify with and associate such symbols with themselves, things they believe will garner admiration and respect from their peers.”
“very impressive, anna! and they do this because their vulgar, unsophisticated nature prevents them from developing that confidence in other ways. by lacking others means to distinguish themselves as exceptional, talented and worthy of respect, they rely solely on the music to fashion their identities and be noticed as such. remember what i said about the rabble?”
“uh-huh. they have simpler tastes are are easily amused due to their lack of intelligence. you said this constitutes the vast majority of the music consumers, and that this compliments the profit motivated capitalist modes of mass production. that’s why music is simplified and standardized by formulas. it’s easier to make and distribute that way.”
anna’s brother danny walks in and stops cold before the broken TV on the floor. he scratches his head. “what happened to the TV?”
papa and anna look conspiratorially at each other for a moment, giggling. “anna decided she had had enough, danny”, papa announced. “there was a rap video on and apparently it disgusted her.”
danny snickered and said “why was she even watching that garbage in the first place?”
“i wasn’t watching it, danny!” asserted anna. it was already on because you left it on that channel!"
a brief interlude of argument ensues between anna and danny until anna finally ignores danny and turns her attention to papa.
“tell us the story of the magic land of music again, papa. please?”
“okay, but afterward you to need to practice your major scales and reading. i’ve written some composition i want you two to work on.”
danny settles down beside anna on the couch, hogging three quarters of it. she tugs the blanket away from danny angrily. “scoot over!”
as papa leans back in his chair he lights his pipe and pulls deeply from it. he crosses his legs and the reverie begins…
“once upon a time, long ago, before the birth of the souless music of the twentieth century, there existed a special type of magician called the ‘composer’. these composers had the unique ability to give life to sounds that would enchant us and tell us wondrous stories. he was like a mathematician, of sorts, who did with notes what others did with numbers. by giving careful attention to the structures of sequence, pitch, tone, timbre, meter and tempo, he was able to construct a language which organized the composition and melody that brought his notes to life. he could make them dance, or cry, or rejoice, or rage… he could make them tell us stories about love and joy, or war, or melancholy, or triumph, or doubt, or terrible loss, and anything else we are able to feel in our hearts. as this magician assembled the notes on the page he could imagine them animated and moving in a world of their own, and with his spark he would bring them magically to life for us.”
“show us, papa! show us the notes… i want to see them!”, anna demanded. she was ecstatic by now… gripping her clarinet in her lap as if she’d never let it go.
papa’s eyes widened and he glared at anna and danny. this for effect. “do you really want to go to this magical land? you have to be sure.”
anna retracted as if hesitant. she loved to play this game with papa when he told the story, pretending as if she were unsure about the journey to come. with a look of mock seriousness on her face, she scratched her chin and pondered the thought. suddenly a glimmer she hadn’t noticed before caught her eye and drew her attention; the light from the fire reflected off the smooth finish of her clarinet, and she turned it her her hands, studying its features in wide eyed amazement.
“yes, yes i want to go!” she finally insisted. papa was supposed to look as if he doubted her sincerity. this was part of their game.
“okay, if you’re absolutely sure.”
and with that papa sat forward in his chair and began to move his hands in a mysterious pattern in front of him. he closed his eyes and began reciting a strange incantation. anna gasped as a greenish haze slowly began to take form in front of papa. the cloud started to swirl and twist and pulse until finally a faint sound could be heard from inside of it. as it got louder and louder, anna stared in disbelief, until finally the audible sound became a melody. then the notes appeared. they moved about like little people… anna now completely captivated by the miniature world taking shape before her.