They Came And Ate Us

The thought of how I want this kind of music to sound has been bouncing around in my mind for months now. New ideas keep entering my mind, sometimes pushing old ones out, but often, disturbingly enough, merging with what's already there.

In case I need to tell you, this is not necessarily a good thing.

Think of someone very impressionalistic with a high degree of irreverence towards social norms who is currently making a wedding cake for a friend's wedding and seeing a bunch of onions and a jar of mustard in their peripheral vision. Disaster is bound to hit.

But then, how are new foods created? Just by making minute changes to existing dishes? Sometimes, but only gradually and you can't really make any drastic changes without making huge leaps of faith occasionally.

I'm sure it'll all work out - as long as we don't tell people that we're making a cake, they may find it passable if not palatable. But what do we tell them we do, if they ask? (and they will ask)

Here's where my issue of marginalising comes into play - I'd settle for calling us an experimental rock band. I'd have to if I were to try getting paying gigs at music venues.

"MY GOD! What the hell are they doing? Why are there two drummers playing two different things? And why are there two different riffs playing to each drum kit? And what's all that awful feedback? Why the hell is the bass player dancing around like a freak?"

"Oh, it's OK - they're an experimental band"

"Oh. Alright, then! :-D"

I have an idea that we're humans playing along to numerous machines. The idea is that we'll be watchable. We'll be painting a picture along to a sequence of generated numbers which may or may not be associated with specific colours (if anything's to be certain, whoever's watching us will not know for sure). Each member will be painting his or her own thing at once and it'll come together into a cohesive whole. That thing probably won't make sense to anyone watching unless we deliberately take on some qualities that they're familiar with. A riff that sounds like a Nirvana song, or a beat that is often heard in 90s pop music will surface. Sometimes it'll be due to an influence that one or two of us will wear on our sleeve, sometimes just through chance. And that will also depend on who's watching.

I'm steeped in the post-rock thing and Battles and Don Caballero (actually, are they post-rock? Or aren't they?) at the moment and there's a very clear mimickry (to me, at least) of post-rock stylings when I play guitar conventionally. When I play keys and tap crazy crap out, it sometimes starts sounding a little more Battlesey. Sometimes I think it's because of the gear I'm using - machines are designed to be used in a specific way and I'm not sure that I'm using mine creatively enough to fight against being bottlenecked creatively by them. The purpose the machine is imbued with is the purpose I end up fulfilling as I embody the machine's logic - unless I fight against it. But then, I might have to fight against the logic of musical parameters as well.

Then, it's no longer the audience I have to convince, but the other band members. Will I be bastardising what I'm doing if I tell them when/where I'm experimenting, or should I leave it unsaid?

Anyway, any issues with influence should be fine. The people we'd be playing to, ideally, won't have heard of these groups and probably won't even notice that we're improvising everything (so to them it'll just look like we suck).

Lucas, Ellen, Rhys and Tim will each be influenced by things entirely different to myself. Sure, I make the most noise (both in the band's idealogical direction and in raw decibels and frequency), but collectively it hopefully all balances out.