Travis Christensen
December 8, 2001
Theory in Music
Comparative Analysis: Steve Reich’s Music for 18
Musicians and Aphex Twin’s Selected Ambient Works Volume II.
There are some interesting parallels in these two seminal
works of “minimalist” music. The former
is a sprawling one hour composition for ensemble made up of 14 connecting
sections in the Nonesuch 1998 recording, the version which I will be examining
(Note: the 1976 ECM original is split into 12 sections). The latter piece is a massive double album
of instrumental electronic music containing over 20 unique works. Both composers implement a repetitious
approach in their compositions. The
music slowly and subtly builds to new twists and turns over the course of
several minutes, an approach that some musicologists have labeled “systems
music” (Sutherland). There is at all
times an abundance of minute detail to be either blocked out or magnified at
the listener‘s discretion. The
impressions SAW2 and Music for 18 Musicians make run the gamut
from calming, to captivating, to maddening.
This is not music meant for everyone; some people grasp it and some do
not. The following is a deconstructive analysis
of exemplary works of two of the most important composers of the 20th
and 21st centuries.
As a short introduction to the unacquainted, Aphex Twin
is the cult celebrity, composer, and musician Richard D. James. His music can only truly be described as
instrumental and electronically oriented, though most people who have heard it
would also throw in “bizarre“ or “deranged.”
James currently records for both the world renown Warp Records and his
own Rephlex Records. Since the early
nineties, he has released dozens of albums, EP’s, and singles at an incredibly
prolific rate, beginning with his compilation Selected Ambient Works 85-92. This album is made up of early works he
composed beginning at age 14. His first
few albums were performed on customized synthesizers, drum machines, and sample
sequencers, but his later works, perhaps beginning with SAW2 (1994) but
doubtlessly implemented on his heralded Richard D. James Album (1996),
have been written and performed mostly or entirely on computers. On his latest, DrukQs (2001), several
short interlude pieces are performed on prepared piano. His style varies greatly between releases,
and often between tracks on the same release.
Albums preceding SAW2 have been either ambient or, conversely,
acid/house; in recent years he has made innovative contributions to the worlds
of drum ’n’ bass (or IDM: “Intelligent Dance Music“), techno, industrial, and
even classical. His unique techniques
have prompted journalists to proclaim him as “the Mozart of electronica,” although
James rejects this because his musical approach is nothing like that of
Mozart. The influences the enigmatic
musician has cited from outside of his late 20th Century peers
include Karlheinz Stockhausen, Philip Glass (who he has worked with), and Erik
Satie. He does not much care for Reich
or John Cage. The common elements of
James’s diverse musical catalogue are his unyielding sense of originality and
classically trained technical proficiency.
On a personal note, SAW2 is one of my very favorite albums and,
perhaps due to its sheer overwhelming size (153 minutes), it has never grown
stale.
The most exciting musical idea James make use of on SAW2
is Steve Reich in nature: phasing. The
majority of the tracks on SAW2 utilize a disorienting style of texturing
that draws the listener into a dizzy or serene state. With few exceptions, the two dozen pieces on SAW2 are
without true percussion; on these tracks, rhythm is created through melodic
phasing. Several tracks expertly employ
muted African style drumming that sustains the hypnotic “melody” lines like a
pulse. This is an idea taken directly
from Reich’s percussion on Music for 18 Musicians, especially on the
first and last pieces: “Pulses“ and “Pulses II” (Schwarz). The organic rhythm found on Music for 18
Musicians is the product of plunking percussive instruments, but it is the
striking interplay between strings, clarinets, voices, and pianos that chiefly
maintain the entrancing tempo.
There are still more correlations between the two works. Both composers utilize new tonality: the
return to tonal harmony, but with non-traditional harmonic progressions. James’s compositions are slightly sparser
than Reich’s Music for 18 Musicians.
With fewer instruments employed there are less opportunities for
divergence from the main theme. This is
not to say that the pieces do not develop; each and every one does. They just do not change as quickly as the
motifs in Music for 18 Musicians.
The most obvious commonality between the Reich and James pieces is
stylistic minimalism. Though there are
eighteen musicians performing the Reich piece, they all work to create an
entrancing, repetitive rhythm; they do not provide countermelody to each other,
but merely provide call-and-response rhythmic structure and support. Many of the instruments performed by James
(Note: each musical voice is pre-recorded or programmed and then tracked
together) and conducted by Reich are very subtle; one must listen intently to
hear the backing parts. For Reich this
includes the clobbering of piano keys and the low pitched drudging of the
strings; for James they are typically synthesizer drones and non-harmonic
sounds. Both composers utilize complex,
under-appreciated, seldom employed concepts to create music that is new and
exciting.
Because Music for 18 Musicians, unlike the Aphex
Twin album, is one full piece, it should be studied as such. Reich’s work will be analyzed by topic and
the tracks from SAW2 will be assessed on an individual level. Each element of Music for 18 Musicians evaluated
below is chosen for its importance in SAW2 as well.
Development in Music for 18 Musicians is different
in many ways from SAW2. Whereas
over half of the pieces that make up SAW2 significantly progress in
melody and rhythm, Music for 18 Musicians functions with only a vague
notion of directionality, if one true direction exists at all. The sections of this piece do not climax but
rather flow into each other. There is
never a sense of resolution. There are
at least two players for each instrument, and all eighteen musicians work
diligently to perform or compliment a central rhythm (Note: there is no melodic
exploration in this piece). The work
begins and ends with pulses of eleven chords that form the structure of the
entire piece (Arnold). The 18 musicians
play these eleven chords, shifting their phase by either performing the exact
same notes a certain interval apart or cooperating to meticulously finish a
musical phrase. Because the piece is
focused on this single musical idea, the musicians all work together in one
massive concerted effort. Different
instruments in each section provide homophonic backing for the focal instrument
of each particular section. This is
sonic variety but not development in the traditional sense. The interplay within the large ensemble is
very sonically impressive nonetheless.
The instrumentalists alter the chords to varying degrees,
changing pitch, tempo, and duration of sound.
Is this melodic development? No,
because this is done without a clear central vision. The chord changes are not improvised, but the anticipatory sense
they create is false in that no authentic chords are ever introduced in the
piece. The music in this sixty-minute
work never veers far from the theme established in “Pulses.” The parts in the sections that sound
different from previous configurations of the theme are merely the results of
pitch and tempo alteration, as well as the interchange of musical instruments. The material is not new.
If one does believe development occurs in this piece then
he or she must admit that the development is circular. This concept is true in two senses:
instrumentation and melody. The eleven
chords appear at least every few minutes in their original tempo and
pitch. In “Pulses,” the piano
oscillates between two notes on the keyboard.
The instrument has a solo for the first seventeen seconds of the piece
before it is backed by the subtle sound of a violin. At the twenty-two second mark, a cello and two clarinets quiver
together in close harmony. The piano
never changes its chord structure, pitch, or even volume; it remains in the
background as new instruments are introduced.
The same notes can be heard throughout the first couple sections as
instruments that had become focal points drop out. The piano riff makes a grand reappearance in “Section V” after
being absent for a few minutes.
This type of subtle, repetitive instrumentation is heard
throughout. Mallet instruments,
including the piano, pound out steady percussion for the human voices,
clarinets, violin, and cello. Assessing
the individual percussion instruments requires much concentration, however, as
these instruments seem to be in different time signatures than one
another. The performer or performers
with the rhythm’s corresponding melody must listen closely to not lose the
off-kilter beat.
The marimbas, one of the main ingredients in the piece’s
rhythm, provide a compelling backdrop.
The individual beats of the marimbas often fill in the space between
notes in the phrase played by the focal instruments. Sometimes the marimba’s beat completes the musical idea,
comparable to the programmed drum kicks on James‘s “1:8.” The marimbas are introduced toward the end
of “Pulses,” and in “Section I” and “Section II” they provide a static
backdrop. However, beginning with
“Section IIIA” the rhythm of the marimbas becomes dynamic, morphing to coincide
with the changes in instrumentation. In
addition, the varying meter of the marimbas, as well as the xylophones,
corresponds with pitch and duration changes in the performance of the eleven
chords. The rhythm section can be seen
as a flowing river rather than a pond through which the other instruments can
wade.
In addition to the traditional rhythm provided by the
percussion, a stirring, internal rhythm is created by the phasing of this
piece. As discussed previously, each
instrument is at least doubled. The
phasing that the duplicate instruments make together and the interplay between
different instruments playing the same chords at different starting points
draws the listener inward. This is
especially effective with the impossible sounding Doppler effects of the
cello. The multiple marimbas and
xylophones sound comparably practical, but their phasing, the result of their
intricacy and impeccably timed execution, are impressive nonetheless.
The interplay between pianos in “Section V” deserves the
keen focus of classically trained ears, which I unfortunately do not have. The most impressive phasing of this piece is
achieved by at least four pianos working in concert. This smooth, fluttering, cyclical riff emerges with eighth- and
sixteenth notes from the quivering tenor of the cello and clarinets. All other instruments drop out to give due
focus to this impressive piano showcase.
While one piano oscillates between the two highest pitched ivory keys of
the keyboard, the other pianos plunk down a segment of the eleven chords in
succession. Notes are struck before the
previous piano player even has the chance to lift his finger from the key. This is organic phasing at its most
beautiful. Stereophonic layering adds
to the circular feel of this rhythm. As
the piece progresses, one piano in the assembly line augments his second to
last note, causing a large but pleasant disturbance in the melody. The other pianists follow suit and soon two,
three, and four musicians are playing the chords with raised intervals. This tricks the ear into thinking there is a
new melody being played when in fact there is not.
Logically, with 18 musicians utilized, the
instrumentation in Reich’s composition is rather interesting. Besides the alternate uses for piano,
xylophone, and marimba mentioned before, the strings and the musicians’ voices
serve more than one function. Whereas
the alto voices are employed as vibrating, phase-shifting treble instruments in
“Section VI” and “Section VII,” they are also used to accent important chords
with their unique timbre. It is easy to
forget they are human voices as they weave themselves between the poignant
xylophones and marimbas in “Section II.”
The note they highlight lends one to believe that this point is the
beginning of the measure, but the problem is, once again, that there are
usually two or more conflicting time signatures.
The strings section is given surprisingly little room for
“development” in this piece. They
chiefly bicker back and forth in the background. In Music for 18 Musicians, the cello, usually in alliance
with the clarinets, is most often employed as a drone instrument. Little variety is exhibited; usually the
pitch shifts down only one step as it quivers back and forth like the moving
finger or watch of a hypnotist. In
“Section IIIB,” however, the cello’s bass line is slightly more
sophisticated. The tempo and duration
of the notes it plays are actually dissonant in relationship with the marimbas,
xylophones, and high-pitched clarinets layered over top of it. The effect is subtle but exciting when
noticed. The violin in “Section IV”
echoes the short-winded bass line played by the cello in the previous
section. The violin is electrifying in
“Section IIIA” as well. This is the
only moment in Music for 18 Musicians where it carries the melody. Pleasingly, it not only performs the melody
but it modulates it under full spotlight.
With the urging of the pitch-shifting xylophone, the pitch of each note
played by the violin is raised and the tempo becomes faster and more
insistent. This is, with due
appreciation for the other sections, the highlight of the piece.
Written about 25 years after Music
for 18 Musicians, Selected Ambient Works Volume II upon first listen
bears little sonic similarity. It is,
after all, electronic and Reich’s work is undeniably organic. But then one must consider that this album
really sounds like nothing else in any genre.
James’s compositional techniques in SAW2, when under close
scrutiny, have more in common with Reich’s approach than that of anyone
else. There are three general varieties
of hypnotic music on SAW2: dizzying ambient techno that most overtly
utilizes the phasing technique; lulling mood pieces that transcend time; and
extended, unmelodic, often annoying drones.
The feel of the album is uncompromisingly ethereal. While the first disc has the most stylistic
similarities to Reich, the second disc is far less cohesive: this is where most
of the drumbeats and drones are. While
the unusual instrumentation and chord changes are unsettling when given proper
focus, they are soothing on the surface level.
The bulk of this album is analogous to drinking iced tea: cool and
refreshing. And while the instruments
are computer processed, they give off a very natural flavor. The repetitive melodic phrases are usually
simple, at times trite, but the music is captivating because of the melody
lines’ timbres (Reynolds), unexpected chord changes, and demented
juxtapositions with other voices.
Serenity is the main emotion of this minimalist work. However, this feeling is quickly lost when
the listener snaps out of his or her cathartic entrancement and realizes the
bizarreness of the music. A notorious
joker and cynic, this is probably what James intended: an induced false sense
of calmness that at the musician’s whim can be transformed into complete
discomfort and disillusion.
Because the album contains no official track titles, I
will distinguish each piece by its disc and track numbers (Note: I will be
referring to the American CD distributed by Sire Records, which has one less
track than the Warp UK CD and two less tracks than the triple album set on
vinyl). The system will be disc #:
track #, for example “2:12.”
SAW2 announces itself with the tensive “1:1,“ one
of the most alien sounding pieces on the album. This piece is well representative of SAW2’s core elements:
phasing, minimalism, repetition, and the manipulation of sampled human
voice. Interestingly, all
of these elements can be
heard in Steve Reich’s 1980 piece “Come Out” which is over ten minutes of
sampled and re-sampled speech. The
focal instrument in “1:1” is a sampled or synthesized alto voice. This presumably female voice neither sings
nor speaks words; the spoken syllable “dät” is played and replayed via cyclic
phasing. James’s mode of phasing on SAW2
is different from Reich’s: it is conceivably flawless because it is the result
of a combination of electronic delay and reverberation that can be applied to
any instrument run through certain software.
Throughout “1:1“ the voice is put through what a decade or two earlier
would have been referred to as “tape effects;“ the syllable is cut into
segments, its pitch is shifted up and down, the duration of its echo is
shortened and lengthened, and it gradually moves in and out of phase with its
own rhythm. From the beginning, the
voice sounds far from human, like the vocalists in “Segment II.”
The voice is backed by what is termed in electronic music
“synth washes:” whole note or longer atonal drone synthesizer notes. The chords are dissonant so it is difficult
to decipher exactly what notes are being played. About two minutes into the piece, a synthesized muted piano
enters, going through its own phasing for the remainder of the track. It is the same few notes played every few seconds,
until the synth washes disappear for a brief moment and the melody descends. The voice disappears in the closing two
minutes, and the synth washes disappear and reappear, granting solos to the
reverb- and delay-soaked muted piano.
This is akin to the constantly emerging and disappearing instruments in
the Reich piece. The style of “1:1” is
repeated on “1:10” and “2:5” on SAW2.
In
“1:2” the synthesizer notes resonate in each ear, like the back and forth
stereo effects found in Music for 18 Musicians. Two synthesizers with different timbres
fight against each other four minutes into the piece. Each synthesizer is in its own key and time signature. Each instrument has its own phasing
effects. It battles both itself and
each other, sending the listener into a dizzying frenzy. There is no third instrument. The melody is “plunk-de-plunk” repeated with
delay effects several times. This is
more repetitive than most pieces on SAW2, though it does morph at one
point into another idea for roughly a minute.
“1:2” is one of the most maddening pieces on this collection.
The next piece, “1:3,” is the most inward and tender
track on the album. This elegy is
relentlessly melancholic, in adagio. The murky, woodwind-sounding bass line
plays the same three ascending quarter-quarter-half and three descending
quarter-quarter-whole notes throughout the piece. Each note sounds like it took gut retching effort to execute,
like the words of a dying man. In the
descending half of the phrase, the closing note resolves beautifully to the
tonic in an emphasized authentic cadence.
This repetition holds a static, heartbreaking rhythm for the other parts
to play over.
The second voice to appear is the treble synthesizer. A computer reverb effect adds a melancholy echo to the melody it plays. The phrase is the melody of the first voice at a much higher pitch and with more distortion. Soon a cello-sounding part backs up the first synthesizer on the same phase. This collusion of instruments plods along for three minutes before being joined by a fourth, mid-range synthesizer after the listener has been lulled into a depressed state. The melodic phrase it plays is seemingly a half step higher, though it is difficult to decipher while mesmerized. While it does repeat the same phrase as the other instruments, its structure develops through the pitch of its notes, which continue to rise as the piece goes on. A fifth synthesizer briefly appears, also to perform high notes. All synthesizers are thickly coated with distortion and reverb effects that emphasize the gloomy mood. Though all tracks on SAW2 are stark, this is one of the few homophonic ambient pieces James chose to include on the album.
“1:6” bares the most melodic similarity to the eleven
chords repeated throughout Music For 18 Musicians. The melodic intervals played on the first
keyboard to appear in the piece are 1-3-1-3, 2-3-1, with D most likely the
tonic. The melody is made up of eighth
notes except for the tonal center: the fourth note is the tonic accent, an
octave above the other third intervals.
The final note in the melodic phrase is the tonic. The maddening timbre of this instrument is a
highly distorted, reverberating wood piano, a cousin to the four real pianos
used in the Reich piece.
In context with the rest “1:6,” the aforementioned melody
is a simple but relentless loop that plays throughout the piece, and though the
part is loud, it is there to provide sonic texturing for the other
instruments. The unstopping melody is
used to a near identical effect as the main theme repeated throughout Music
for 18 Musicians. In addition, the
synthesizer’s deranged reiteration and one-second-delay phasing set a hypnotic
mood. Forty seconds into this eight and
a half minute piece, a quiet, almost unnoticeable dissonant keyboard, roughly a
half pitch step below the looped rhythm, plays dynamic, improvised backing
melodies, as if to prove that this track is not as mindless and inhuman as it
seems on the first listen. When given
its due focus, it is conceivable to get lost in this piece for hours. A minute and a half into the piece, the most
sonically interesting element is heard.
Over the rolling rhythm of the original keyboard, a synthesized piano
plays five ascending chords, takes a whole note rest, and then descends in
pitch to play its tonic, followed by a non-harmonic suspension chord. This instrument disappears after playing for
a minute or so, and returns nearly a minute later to play different notes. The new notes are more improvisational and
the instrument takes a different time signature. Not wanting to bore the listener, it has a new job: spicing up
the piece with unexpected configurations of notes. At the five-minute mark, it returns to its original melody for
forty seconds. For thirty seconds it
plays whole notes before returning again to the original melody. For the rest of the piece, the notes are
played with a ringing staccato.
James’s implementation of subtle percussive noises in
“1:6” is fascinating. Forty seconds
into “1:6,“ muted sixteenth notes from a computerized bass drum hit like soft
mallets in the left ear. They accent
the final two notes of the looping melodic phrase for about twenty seconds
before disappearing, only to reappear at random intervals in the piece. After a minute of delay-, reverb-, and
distortion-saturated keyboard riffs, quick buzzes of electronic static are
heard in the distant background. Their
function is to emphasize certain notes in the melody. Another subtle percussive instrument makes an impression on
“1:6:” sequenced DAT tape glitches skip to and fro quietly in the background
for about thirty seconds before disappearing.
They reemerge a minute later with the ascending-descending piano riff. The rest of the piece features more random
near-silent percussive noises of the static or glitch variety.
To further analyze James’s use of percussion, one must
look no further than “1:8.” James
employs both polyphonic and polyrhythmic textures in this childlike piece. As heard in dozens of James’s works on this
and other albums, childhood is an important musical theme. James likes to clash joyous melodies played
on synthesizers with menacing percussion and sound effects. This is the case with “1:8.” The first ten seconds are a menacing tribal
rhythm underscored by sinister, stereophonic synth washes. Then the washes totally disappear and the
beat becomes compliment to a lyrical synthesizer, the treble. This instrument plays a quick, happy flute
melody while an organ, the bass, plays a rolling countermelody. The delightful mood begins to wane a minute
into the piece when a new percussive instrument enters the fray. This part sounds like a computer-processed
sample of the clanking made by metal chain links. The mood is totally ruined when at 1:8 the sinister synth washes
return like an evil clown to a circus.
The remainder of the piece is a quadruple meter battle between the
tribal drums, the chain links, the bass, and the treble. At 2:17 another keyboard briefly emerges
with a quiet, building melody, and the treble plays 2-1-2, 2-1-2, 2-2-1, 2-1-2
intervals. The chain links seem the
easiest to focus on in an effort to determine the time signature, but the
polyrhythmic nature of the piece and the phasing of the links make this job
impossible. What can be assessed is
that the first beat of each measure played by the chain links is accented, as
if to mock the listener trying to count the beat.
As stated previously, disc two of SAW2 is less
cohesive and bears fewer similarities to Steve Reich’s Music for 18 Musicians. “2:11,” for instance, is just a grating
exercise in pitch blending that the composer intended as more of a joke than an
interlude. This is clinched by the
different samples of human laughter that appear throughout the track, seldom
without their pitch, duration, and basic sonic structure intact. For these discrepancies, and because of
concepts already discussed, fewer pieces on this half of the album will be
analyzed.
“2:6” has a Middle Eastern sound to it. The keyboard mimics a mesmerizing snake
charmer’s flute. Phasing in this piece
makes melodic analysis more difficult than in any other, but its intervals make
the piece sound like it is written in melodic minor key. This track features a synthesized ensemble
of flute, marimba, timpani, and tambourine, all of which are phased roughly a
dozen times through echo and reverberation.
This is easily the most hypnotic moment of SAW2. It is impossible to determine what the
originating melodies and rhythms are because of the intense phasing: the original
performance disappears at some point after the first two echoing phases have
come over top of it. This is even more
extreme than Reich’s “Section V” where the pianos work to execute a single
phrase.
“2:8” is a weighty piece similar to “1:3.” This piece, however, develops more. The instrumentation keeps a constant
melancholic, lulling mood, but the listener is this time taken on a trip
through the music, rather than induced into a stupor. All instruments on this track sound very murky; it is difficult
to discern the foreground from the background.
There is no percussion. The
atonal backing instruments emulate clarinets and indistinct strings. The depressing focal melody is played on
some muddling of different instruments that mimic no real instruments yet sound
fully organic. The main phrase played
by this instrument is a lovely and difficult sounding ascension of notes
beginning with E-B-G. This piece is
achingly beautiful in its low pitched instrumental timbre and elegiac chord
progression. It sounds
post-apocalyptic.
“2:12” sonically parallels “Section VI” and “Section
VIII” on Music for 18 Musicians with its rapid muted drums. In the Reich piece, a xylophone signals cues
for the slight changes in melody and structure. The phasing-induced, near-silent programmed percussion line
accompanies and accents the beginning of each sinister whole note performed by
James’s computerized orchestra. Within
three minutes of “2:12,” the piece enters a state of cacophony that never once
occurs in the mathematically perfected chaos of Music for 18 Musicians. SAW2 ends abruptly when the drums and
half of the faux orchestra drop out, followed by the rest of the instruments,
without returning to the tonic. An
eccentric ending to an eccentric musical work.
Music for 18 Musicians’s closing “Pulses II” is at least
given a moment of interplay between just the xylophone and piano followed by a
fade out effect. Does this make Reich
more of a musician or James more of an artist?
This comparative analysis only begins to reveal the
brilliant underlying minutiae of so-called minimalist music. Each of these works deserves patience and
attention in order before comprehension of their genius is awarded to the
listener. Selected Ambient Works
Volume II and Music for 18 Musicians are deceptively configured, but
with the right approach this becomes not a hindrance but a virtue.
Arnold, Jacob.
"20th-Century Avant-Garde."
2000.
<
http://www.gridface.com/features/avant-garde.htm >
Creative Music Co., Inc. Creative
Music Online Dictionary of Musical Terms.
2000.
<
http://www.creativemusic.com/features/dictionary.html >
Reynolds, Simon. Review of Selected
Ambient Works Volume II, Spin
Magazine, 1994.
Schwarz, K. Robert. “Steve
Reich: Music As a Gradual Process,” Perspectives on New
Music, xix (1980-81), 373-92; xx (1981-82) 225-86. Reprinted online at http://www.duke.edu/~dks3/Reich/
Sutherland, Roger. “Steve
Reich.” EST #3. Reprinted online at ESTWeb.
<
http://www.hyperreal.org/intersection/zines/est/articles/reich.html >
Copyright 2001.