Click tracks, perfection, and music, oh my.

One of my earliest memories is that of sharing music with my dad. We share the "old soul" complex, continually wanting and aching for a simpler time, wishing to have been born in an earlier generation. My dad loves to drive, and we would sometimes just take off on a Saturday afternoon when I was younger and drive and drive, he would slip in a mix tape that had music from Sinatra to Orbison to The Beatles.

I am incredibly thankful to have been exposed to so much music, and variety of it. While my parents were chest-deep in the classics, my brother (nine years my senior) was into newer stuff, and as a result I consider myself to be really well-rounded, musically speaking. I think the advantage of being exposed to old and new music simultaneously, has allowed me to have a unique view of its evolution.

Earlier in the week TheHour tweeted an interesting article from http://musicmachinery.com/, if you have the time, scroll down and read the post on drummers and click tracks. To sum it up briefly (while not doing it much justice, I'm sure) the post basically illustrates that you can tell which drummers use a click track, by measuring the duration between beats. Drummers who don't use click tracks, the duration varies, and vice versa for those who do use a click track. So where am I going with this? Well, generally speaking, is the advancement in technology hindering music or making it better? More specifically speaking, does a unified beat make music more enjoyable to listen to, than one that isn't unified?

As a society we are obsessed with perfection (technology enables us to reach a certain degree of this perfection), and the closer we get to it (in any aspect of life) the less human we become. What makes music interesting and what gives it a longer shelf life, are the imperfections (or perhaps "the variances" is a better phrase here, as imperfection has a rather negative spin). Subconsciously, a listener will be more engaged listening to something that varies (even if it is slight); it's the artists way of poking you every so often to make sure you're paying attention. Without this variation, music runs the risk of sounding like a block of sound.

This obsession with perfection hasn't only affected new music. Classical music has fallen victim to this kind of ideal for many years (lets not forget that the metronome was here long before the click track :)). The Baroque period was a time where music was somewhat stoic and severe in its rhythm and phrasing, however the Classical and Romantic periods were a reaction to this severity, they were meant to break free from the restriction of uniformity. There were whole sections within pieces dedicated to virtuoso instrumentalists and they were expected take the central theme and expand on it, as the saw fit. In other words, passionate and unplanned (to some extent) improvisation was encouraged. This doesn't happen anymore, these improvisational sections are now written out in advance due to "preservation" of the style, defeating its original intent. It seems as though classical musicians have forgotten that the suggestions written by the composer, were merely that, suggestions.

Getting back to click tracks, a uniformed beat, however subtle and unnoticeable it may seem, can be dangerous for a song. Turning it into this wall of sound, or a solid line lacking deviation and ultimately removing the human element that speaks to us as listeners, doesn't give it any kind of longevity. I find that when I listen to music that sounds over-produced or too perfect, I lose interest a lot quicker than something that sounds less refined and more gritty. As with most art, though, it's all subjective and depends on the listeners taste and what they're looking for.

Last night there was a special on PBS, Roy Orbison and Friends, The Black and White show (which included Bruce Springsteen, K.D. Lang, Elvis Costello etc., the list goes on). I remember watching this special when I was maybe 10 or so with my dad, not really knowing any of the musicians or their importance. It's something I've always remembered and it's a performance that has always stayed with me. Why does Orbison's music still speak to me? Why do I still get that heavy chest and goose bumps when he sings? It isn't because he has a perfect voice, or that he's a technically perfect musician. It's that little waver in his voice, the one that tells you he's singing not to form a perfect sound, but to tell you a story that he's lived through and through.