The Living Music List #35: On Realizing the Raw and the Real (Part I)
Consciousness is a fickle and often faulty faculty--is this real life?
Currently listening to: Big Mike’s (Live) by Dijon
I like how you look when you got questions
I like how you look when you get stressed
You're all tensed up
I like when you're mad
I like when you get mood swings
Two eyes in your head
Two eyes blue, look like mood rings
I like how you look when you undress
Reflection
Hello, friend.
Is this real life?
How many times has that question burrowed its way into your monkey brain and furrowed your brow? When it does, do you, like me, feel a distant memory rise and shake the dirt off itself, reintroducing you to this gem of an early 2000s viral phenomenon?
I was a child not much older than David when this video captured the internet’s attention. I laughed it off back then and for many years following. Now, it feels different. Still, it delivers a bit of a laugh, but I can see something slightly more sinister peeking out behind the curtain.
Consciousness is a fickle and often faulty faculty. There are many agents capable of affecting it—of inflitrating its walls and corrupting the data inside. While consciousness is the sole source of our great power and potential, it is also constantly holding its power over us as our singular tether to reality.
This all sounds quite haughty, I know—but let’s get back to young David’s post-op conundrum. “Why is this happening to me?!” he frets, looking genuinely frustrated and upset. “Is this gonna be forever?”
I recall a few flirtations with the likes of LSD and psilocybin that once made me ask the same questions (please, hold your feigned surprise—I go by the pseudonym Melted Form, for Christ’s sake). And sure, it’s quite frightening and impressive that certain substances out there can so easily tear down the wallpaper… but people can also just dissociate all on their own, you know? Be it intoxication, mental illness, or some other altered state of consciousness, your mind and sense of self is a fragile, beautiful, terrifying thing.
Day to day, though, most of us probably shrug off these moments of slippage or avoid them all together. We’ve learned to exist quite well in the comfort of our ego.
And yet, there are many who dare to venture beyond the ego’s bounds, to achieve separation. For perhaps detachment from one’s typical state of mind may deliver you to a new point of view? Cue the Tommy Chong voice: it’s all about perspective, man!
It’s like removing the usual filters from your lenses and inviting new threads of thought in through artificial means. If we’re used to operating in first gear almost our whole lives, then switching into second or third will surely spur unique experiences.
Let’s consider one of the core tenets of communication theory to help ground us in what that first gear means. Two communication scholars, Peter Berger and Thomas Luckmann, wrote a seminal treatise back in 1967 on The Social Construction of Reality). Essentially, this theory says that reality is socially constructed—this suggests that the meaning of all phenomena within an individual’s conscious perception of reality is entirely derived from their previous and ongoing social interactions with other humans. This article may be a helpful companion to that very high-level definition of the theory.
What does this have to do with understanding “real life”? It’s about perspective—there is no universal “real life,” say Berger and Luckmann. All of our consciousnesses are products of the soup of societies from which they arose. One’s perception of reality is not only inherently complex and wobbly, but the mechanism making meaning of the events, relationships, and natural phenomena in one’s life is always subconsciously playing to the tune set by a lifetime of social interaction.
So if we all have our own version of “real life” which is innately personal, malleable, and fluid, then why do we humans seem to possess such a powerful, common desire to convey and appreciate the raw, real aspects of this life?
Take social media for example—we all know deep down that it is a highly selective slice of life. It is inherently performative, posting something for the world to see, comment on, and potentially judge. These communications are heavily mediated by the algorithms that intricately cater what posts are presented to you based on your previous engagement, and to whom your own posts are shown. Yet, these platforms built on so much intentional filtering and reshaping of people’s lives also see so many posts in which people attempt to convey (and romanticize) their “real life.”
Do you know the kind of posts I’m talking about? Take this one for example…
The creator and her friend surely knew they were being filmed, so are they acting here? Is this at all representative of “real life?” Kind of, but also not at all.
Pew Research Center hosted focus groups to discuss Americans’ views of social media, and I found these disparate quotes about authenticity on these platforms interesting.
This brings me back to thinking about art and self-expression. While social media is a channel of communication that makes it nearly impossible to avoid tailoring the way we present ourselves to others, is art so different? Whether your writing a song, creating a film, taking a photograph, there’s presentational intention behind it in a way, right?
Maybe not always. Not all art is shared after we have expressed ourselves through the act of making it. In fact, one of the great facets of art is that, so often, we make it because we are trying to express ourselves privately in the pursuit of understanding ourselves more deeply—in the pursuit of realization. Through the act of creating, we may realize thoughts and feelings we had not fully understood prior to taking part in the creative process.
To me, this is why so many pieces of great art do a stunning job of conveying something that feels "real.” You hear it in certain pieces of music and writing, see it in certain paintings and films. A rawness. A vulnerability that can’t exist elsewhere. A realization of something about oneself and one’s life.
Take that Dijon song in today’s Currently listening to section at the start of this letter. The lyrics of Big Mike’s seem to be about loving someone and recognizing that love even in the most mundane or even negative moments. The first two lines, especially, are such specific observations of love and attraction.
I like how you look when you got questions
I like how you look when you get stressed
I don’t think Dijon means here that he wants his partner to be stressed or questioning things, but that he recognizes how much he loves her even when seeing past her usual happy face. To me, this is songwriting that is revealing his honest experience. It is a realization stated simply. This is raw and real.
I feel like I’m only scratching the surface of what I first wanted to write to you about today, friend, and it’s getting late. So, until next week, I will leave you with this—consciousness is a world of our own we should explore. If you seek to express yourself, don’t fret over the theory that it might be impossible to avoid communicating without the influence of others coloring your message. If that is what it is, then all we can do is create for ourselves first and let the chips fall where they will.
Music Recommendations
Hello again, friend.
Thank you for reading today’s post. I hope you enjoyed the reflection—and I hope you didn’t mind getting a bit theoretical today. What is your favorite example of songwriting (or any other piece of art) that feels raw and real? Why do you think so?
Now, on to the new music releases on my radar this week. Happy listening.
The Living Music List—Ambient
Note: All of the below ambient projects are available on Bandcamp. Bold and ^ denotes reader-submitted work—thank you!
Borderlands by Atomic Unit (album / post-rock, electronic) [Independent / Bandcamp]^
Shards by Tim Hecker (album / experimental, film scores) [kranky / Bandcamp]
Electroacoustic Works For Halldorophone by MARTINA BERTONI (album / experimental, electroacoustic) [Karlrecords / Bandcamp]
Abstraction by Pietro Zollo (album / minimalist, drone) [Projekt Records / Bandcamp]
Music for empty interiors, vol. 1 by Clément Rambaud (EP / ambient piano, electronic) [Independent / Bandcamp]
blue fifty-four by Ben Richter (album / field recording, drone) [Blue Tapes / Bandcamp]
{Note: Interesting, experimental combination of room noise and minimal accordion drone}
Diazepam by Drift (album / dark ambient, noise) [Eighth Tower Records / Bandcamp]
{Note: Remaster/reissue of a 1996 album, with a new bonus track included}
Bye Bye Bird by Nina Garcia (album / noise, experimental) [Ideologic Organ / Bandcamp]
Retrospective [2019-2024] by Various Artists (compilation / includes a variety of subgenres, including but not limited to: drone, electronic, meditative, minimalist) [Healing Sound Propagandist / Bandcamp]
{Note: 76 tracks from a huge pool of artists, including names like James Bernard, .foundation, From Overseas, and so many more}
The Living Music List—All Genres
Note: All of the below projects are available on major streaming services.
Live at Union Station by Sam Gendel (EP / contemporary jazz)
Automatic by The Lumineers (album / alternative)
antichamber by Puma Blue (album / singer-songwriter)
Generator EP by Amtrac (EP / dance)
Pardon Me by Joey Bada$$ (EP / hip-hop/rap)
Jupiter by Nao (album / R&B/soul)
SAYA by Saya Gray (album / alternative)
Armageddon In A Summer Dress by Sunny War (album / folk)
respite ∞ levity for the nameless ghost in crisis by Colin Self (album / alt electronic)
Earth-Sized Worlds by Mandrake Handshake (album / indie psych rock)
The Press Box
In this week’s edition of The Press Box, we are briefly previewing a forthcoming experimental ambient release from the Nashville, TN-based instrumental group Infinite Limb.
Drums and Drones: Live at Trinity Community Commons by Infinite Limb [out February 25]
Kyle Numann’s experimental ambent project Infinite Limb is a group capable of creating their own environment. That’s especially beneficial when you’re residing in the harsh summer heat of Nashville, Tennessee—even better when you’re transforming a hallowed but downtrodden space like a burnt-out church.
It’s also fitting that this vulnerable space which couldn’t entirely keep out the 95-degree heat also allowed some external noise in to mix with the percussive ambient improvisations that Infinite Limb played.
Numann explains:
The church, first built in 1904, sits at a busy intersection of Trinity Lane. Throughout the recordings, certain outside sounds find their way through the brick walls — most charmingly in the opening of track 2, where a few passing motorcycle engines play a call and response with Infinite Limb’s analog synthesizer.
The resulting sound collage is awash with rattling textures, soft drones, and revolving synthesizer tones, all flowing along smoothly to the occasional and semi-irregular beat of the drums. It’s organic, natural, unfettered ambient music.
You can watch the live performances of track 1 (Rafters) and track 2 (Bricks) on YouTube now. The full album will be available to stream and purchase on Bandcamp on Feburary 25.
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That’s all for this week’s issue. Thank you for reading. Until next time.
Your friend,
Melted Form
Remember to listen to the hum, buzz, & hiss of the world around you—there is music to be heard there.
Read the previous issue of The Living Music List:
Afterword—Let’s Get In Touch
Are you an artist, a label owner, or a member of the press? Want to share an in-depth feature of your upcoming release, an advertisement, or a guest post for a future Hum, Buzz, & Hiss issue? Get in touch with me at meltedform@gmail.com. As always, I would love to hear and recommend your music, especially if it’s new and ambient/electronic/experimental.
I've been working on writing a conference about, let's say to sum it up very broadly, "the power of vulnerability", and I decided to start it with the song Billie Eilish wrote for the Barbie movie.
I've heard her say in an interview that she quickly wrote it thinking it's all about Barbie. The next day she realized it was her most personal song.
To me, this is a perfect example of how art works: yes, it's performative, but no matter how you want to polish it, the real self of the artist always shows up.
One of my favorite thing about making improvised soundscape is to witness how it always reflect the mood I was in while doing it (This will be the subject of my next newsletter).
Anyway great piece of writing!