There's a wonderful scene in the mockumentary "This is Spinal Tap" in which Nigel explains the uniqueness of his amps.  Basically, "these go to 11."  While all other amps only go to 10, these all go to 11, making everything "one louder."  The explanation being, that for most people when your guitar is on 10, and your amp is on 10, and you just need a little something more, where can you go?  And the answer is "nowhere!"  But these amps are special, because they go to 11.   When everything is maxed out and they need that "extra push over the cliff," they simply go to 11.  But then, when confronted by the comment, "why not make 10 louder and make that the top number?" the answer that Nigel gives is...  "these go to 11."

I quote this because it is this type of speaking without reasoning that has infected so much of our lives these days.  Answering simple questions is not that simple anymore if that question involves thinking beyond the immediate impression.  In the arts it's akin to accepting everything as profound because someone has said that it is profound.  In the trades it's that the job has been done correctly because we followed the steps, regardless of the acceptability of the outcome.  And what about politics?  In this 2024 election season I'm supposed to believe that Harris will solve all the economic and geo-political challenges if she can win the office - regardless of the fact that she is already in office?!  Or that Trump will now destroy democracy as we know it - really?  (And, by the way, it's a "republic," not a "democracy").

Yes, Harris can exude "joyful" vibes - and can make socialist dogma sound like neighborly niceness; and Trump has the smallest vocabulary of any leader, resorting to personal attacks and statements like "very, very bad."  But when will we begin to look past the veneer of the cabinet and realize that the Marshall amp has a defined decibel output regardless of what numbers we paint on the knobs!  You choose an amplifier because of its quality and sound signature, not because of some painted-on numbers; and you choose a candidate because of his or her record and ability to execute, not because of "vibes" or "verbs."   Both Harris and Trump have a full term of history behind them that cleanly illustrate their policies and governing effectiveness. 

So, as I reflect back on one of the funniest films ever made, and forward to what will certainly be one of the most highly contested and divisive races in presidential history, I truly hope we can cast our vote based upon the objective record of policy and governing, and not just vote for the one who in our mind goes to 11.   

I find the statement "who are you to judge" to be a kind of excuse to justify the creation and performance of essentially bad music.  This is especially true for music that is created primarily through music software programs or with A.I. assistance.  

A few days ago, I was asked to look at a piece of music that a friend of mine was considering programming for next season.  He was unsure of it, and wanted some confirmation that the piece was indeed NOT worth programming.  When I looked at the score, I found writing that was uninformed of the instruments and difficult to execute.  It violated basic rules of engraving, and it was obvious that the piece was written on a keyboard without attention to instrumental limitations or preferences.  The orchestration showed little regard to timbre combinations.  Articulations were not specific to the instruments.  In short, the MIDI realization that was sent to me along with the score sounded quite promising, but a live performance would be a disaster - the musicians would be frustrated, the sound would be wanting, and the audience would be alienated.

Years ago, it was normative to expect that a composer would have an intimate knowledge of all the instruments of the orchestra, and to write intelligently for them.  Today the only qualification seems to be a knowledge of music software programs.  Is it fair to say that this new breed of composers is writing "bad" music?   I think so.  A piece for violin which includes music which is impossible to play on the violin is certainly not a good piece. 

I am happy to report that the piece I reviewed is no longer under consideration for programming.  But a larger question remains.  Why are so many people writing so much music that is not worth seeing the light of day?  Is it just because technology has made the process of writing so easy?  Or do we still embrace the "who are we to judge" question?   Just because something disguises itself as "art" shouldn't render it immune from evaluation or criticism.  And the fact remains; there is good and bad music.

I was thinking the other day about the fact that us composers tend to work with a set of twelve and only twelve notes.  It's kind of like a painter that starts off with twelve colors on his pallet, and then mixes those specific colors to create a multitude of nuances and feelings.  The difficulty is not in mixing together different colors, but in the temptation to mix together too many colors, with the inevitable result being a shade of brown. 

I sometimes think the same is with music.  There is always a temptation to mix together too many colors and thus create a monochrome piece that has lost its soul.  That may be the issue with much serial and/or twelve-tone music.  By attempting to use each pitch--each note equally, the color of the composition is lost; although the work may be interesting, it often fails to lead the ear in one direction or another--rather being static, monochrome, brown.

This is not to say that serial music is bad; only to point out that its intention as a system to replace the tonal system is wishful thinking at best.  Far better the result when the composer mixes notes in such a way as to offer us a colorful collage or a landscape that invites our careful attention.