Onto the task at hand:
I know I haven't posted in forever, but this is because things like school, sleeping and booze got in the way of me being productive over the last little while. Nonetheless, I've seen and done things in the past few weeks that have sparked my imagination, despite being in a haze of midterms and remorse. Quite some time ago, I started watching a channel on YouTube called "JustSoFilms" who post videos of independent musicians playing one song, in one take, in the back of a London Black Cab. Among those who have partaken are some of my favorites like Emmy the Great, Laura Marling, Johnny Flynn and Charlie Fink of Noah and the Whale. Black Cab has also featured artists as diverse as St. Vincent, Amanda Palmer of The Dresden Dolls, Death Cab for Cutie, Martha Wainright and Lykke Li. I love the concept of a one-take show with nothing but a couple musicians and some instruments. That's always been my favorite kind of music, and something about making it mobile and public and a part of the real world is really engaging and interesting to me. There's an almost guerilla element to it that transforms the act of making music into a magical event once again. Black Cab has the ability to reinvigorate music by literally putting it on the streets. Busker chic?
A number of other websites offer similar concepts- Handheld Shows keeps it a little more private and a little bit more performance-based while La Blogotheque takes bands outside of even the privacy afforded by a cab and puts them right in the middle of public parks, commuter trains, busy roadways and the like. I think the explosion of these sorts of public performance websites and video services are probably the result of two things:
1. An indie love for all things ironic and mildly awkward and,
2. A desire to overturn the North American tendency to privatize and dissociate music, art and creative activities from the public sphere
Its probably pretty clear which of these options I'm more inclined to believe. Cultural Studies students love giving meaning to things that don't really have any. I don't think it's any mistake that the vast majority of these services are based in Europe. La Blogotheque (my favorite of the sites mentioned so far-their photography is beautiful) sets most of its "Concerts a Emporter" in the heart of Paris, Just So Films uses the London Black Cab as its studio and Handheld Shows is based in Norway. Most places outside of North America (and certain pockets of North America) have a long and storied history of making music a public, collectivizing experience. The east coast of Canada is infamous for its musical house parties, Central and South America incorporate music into the backdrop of every day life, and in Europe, music has long been a means of story-telling, as well as a site of community rituals and experience. In these kids of communities, music is less a form of performance that it is just a part of a larger landscape of social interaction. There's a great moment in the Noah and the Whale Blogotheque session where an old Parisian man just joins in the singing as he passes the band on the street that illustrates this sort of ease and comfort with music beautifully. In a lot of places around the world, music isn't public by chance or perversion, but by necessity. North America, though, approaches performance much differently. Art is housed in galleries, music is performed on stages inside elaborate concert halls or dive bars, dancing is reserved for ornate staged productions. Art and the pleasure we derive from it is an experience very much separate from every day life for many North Americans.
I think this is why it's so exciting to watch these "take-away shows." While still based on performativity and the exhibition of a particular cultural product, they take leaps and bounds towards troubling and questioning the line between private creative effort and public engagement with that creative effort. There's nothing stopping someone singing along on the street, nothing to stop a passer-by walk directly through a shot. This is performance, but situated deeply in the grand, complex and expansive performance of daily rituals- walking the dog, taking the train, buying the groceries. I watch these sessions and come away stupidly inspired. I want to stumble upon people making music for the sake of making music. I want to find a fun fiddle line on the train, a gorgeous harmony in the park, a catchy hook as I walk through downtown. There's something so magical about making music an integral part of our daily rituals that simply cannot be reproduced by ritualizing the performance of music in itself.
Taking a cue from these wonderful sites, me and some friends were on a bus returning to campus after a few refreshments a week or so ago, and decided that we were going to sing and make music because it felt good. And it did. It felt so awesome, especially when people around us were bobbing along, singing quietly to themselves, trying to hide the fact that they were enjoying it. This experience threw into stark relief something fundamental about North American views on performance and creation. When I see a woman coyly singing along on the bus, I see someone wanting to overturn the tradition of privatized performance we've established on this continent. When I watch the Noah and the Whale Blogotheque session and see the old man boisterously join in the singing, despite not knowing a single word of the song, I see this desire realized.
I propose putting the magic back in music. Music shouldn't have to be performed to be experienced. Music should be a part of lived experience that we can't abstract from everyday rituals and duties. Sing with friends on the street, make music with as many people as you can, try to participate instead of always being an observer of a "legitimate" performance. The world will sound better, feel better and (with any luck) get along better, too.
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