“Analog, digital, virtual analog, software synths… which one is the best option? Which ones sound the best? This is one of the most frequent questions I get from my listeners, students and even friends from the music industry. So I thought I’d post my thoughts about this in a very condensed and non-technical form. Obviously, I won’t be comparing specific models or talk about the exceptions in this article, rather discuss the benefits/disadvantages of the four major categories in general (as for professional or advanced amateur studio use). So let’s go from the most fundamental to the more recent concepts.
Can a digital synth sound as good as an analog one?
Define good. A digital synth can sound horrible or it can sound way more interesting than an analog, depending on what type of sound and character you’re after. They both have strengths and weaknesses, and it simply doesn’t make sense to compare them without talking about some specific characters. For example, for sounds with a truly vintage character, for soft-saturation-rich sounds, for naturally unstable tones or somewhat uncontrollably fluctuating parameters, analog instruments will have an advantage, while most acoustic instrument imitations will sound quiet pathetic coming from analog electronic instruments. Besides actual samples of acoustic instruments, many digital synths will give you access to non-traditional parameters, diverse control options including MIDI, other than subtractive synthesis methods such as stable FM, PM, PD, additive, wavetable, granular, etc., and modeled analog component designs (algorithms), which might be unfeasible or practically impossible to build in the analog domain. So, get that old digital synth down from the attic.
Virtual analogs never sound as good as real analogs, right?
Wrong. Again, define good. The individual character of a virtual analog will likely come from different elements/attributes of the sound it produces than those of real analogs, and if that’s what you’re after, they might very well sound bigger, fatter, harsher, punchier than their analog relatives. Built-in effects may be available as part of the sound design process (as opposed to just system effects) in many of the virtual analogs (think of the Virus or the Supernova), and can often be controlled and routed in unconventional ways and interact with the more traditional attributes of sound. While virtual analogs will certainly have their own character, they will let you create sounds with a different character quite easily, as virtual analogs typically offer a large number of editable parameters, the non-traditional combinations of these, and highly flexible routing and control capabilities. Classic analogs have their individual character, which is fantastic, but might be somewhat more limiting when you’re trying to create sounds that don’t necessarily feature the typical character of a given model.
If you are using a VA and going for a classic”imperfection” (of steady pitch, amplitude, control and dynamic behavior) of a true analog sound, an often highly desirable character, you will have to imitate this imperfection by randomizing the value of several parameters– still, it just won’t be the same as the real thing. While the “warmth” of an analog synth can be described with an algorhythm and added to a virtual analog sound, a monotonously consistent (sampled) analog character or a digitally pre-programmed change of that character just won’t give you the same sonic quality and feel as the dynamically (and often randomly-and-dynamically) changing warmth and imperfection of a classic instrument. These exciting imperfections result from minor, unpredictable voltage changes, unrelated parameters’ coincidental effect on each other, use of a less consistently acting keyboard, difference in design (often no consistency there with hand-built models) and degree of stability between the oscillators, temperature changes, etc. Not to mention the unpredictable effect of a true analog instrument’s mood at a given time, i.e. what kind of day it’s having…
Do the new versions of vintage analog synths, those with fully analog signal paths (like the Voyager, MS-20 mini, OB 2-voice, etc.) sound the same as their original versions?
Comparison test (including my own) show that they never sound the same. First of all, most units of classic analogs don’t sound the same to begin with, while there is very minimal difference, if any, between the mass-manufactured units of today’s analog synths (with a couple of exceptions). These synths can be really great as their analog signal paths and components give you the raw, warm, forgiving, “pushable”, powerful sound you might like, but with character stability, digital control and convenient features (flexible routing, performance controls, MIDI, software interface, patch memory, etc.).
Yet, sounding different doesn’t necessarily mean that they sound better or worse. More stable, yes. The question is whether you like a more or a less stable tuning, and a more or a less consistent reaction (amplitude, pitch, filter amounts, dynamics, etc.) to your otherwise consistent performance. Whether you like a cleaner or a “dirtier” analog output? In other words, when recording it, do you prefer more of a “the same notes played repeatedly never sound the same” behavior, or a more predictable, consistent sound? If the latter, recently (post-2002) built analogs (or most VAs) will be your best choices.
Another factor that might greatly infuence your choice is the synth’s ability to store your patches or settings. Today’s analogs often offer this functionality – for most, this is a clear advantage (more about the rest of us at another time). Lastly, besides the differences in sonic character and features, classic analog, new analog, and virtual analog instruments feel entirely different as a whole; the materials they are made of, the feel of their keyboard and controls… and of course, we all have our individual preferences between numeric displays, hi-res lcd screens with lots of details – or no screens at all.
Softsynths are just like digital synthesizers, but thank to the host computer they run on, they have more memory, handle larger samples, have more polyphony, offer higher multitimbrality, feature better interfaces… overall they are just better.
As far as the specs: yes. Better overall: definitely no! It is true that the numbers make software synthesizers seem like clear winners (especially if you don’t plan to show them off on stage), but I would argue that they have at least two major disadvantages, even when compared to digital synths.
The smaller disadvantage is that the sound they create either stays in the digital domain, or gets converted to analog signal by the D/A converter of your computer’s sound card or connected audio interface. This might not be a disadvantage for one or two sounds, but when 10-12 different sounds come from 6-8 different plug-ins or software, and they all go through the exact same host application and the same hardware’s D/A conversion, they might (and often they do) get a bit processed, “homogenized” the same way. Think of this as an extra spice, an extra character, which becomes part of every one of your sounds, making them sound a little more similar to each other than they did before conversion. On the contrary, if you keep them in the digital domain (the sounds never leaving your DAW), or if you have a very high quality interface with highly transparent D/A converters, you will end up with no added character in any of your sounds, at least in theory. This might be exactly what you want, but personally, I prefer to get that little bit of an extra sonic diversity, as long as it comes from different D/A converters, pre-amplifiers and other components for each digitally generated sound. I have blind-A-B tested the digital (adat, s/pdif) and analog outputs of several of my digital and virtual analog synths, and in 80% of the time I preferred the analog signal. (Surprisingly, the 20% of these synths where I opted to use the digital output, were virtual analogs!)
This is not to say that the advantage of an analog signal is that it’s warmer, less sterile, or in any way better than the digital signal – in fact, in some cases it’s less “clean” and less dynamic. But, the analog signal is usually a bit more exciting, as its character isn’t as consistent as the digital signal’s more “always perfect” character. Letting favorable accidents (like analog distortion, signal degradation) happen can lead to unexpected (good or bad) character in your sound – and now we are talking about a creative element of sound shaping, as opposed to just sonic quality!
The other disadvantage of software synths is even more interesting, partly because it’s actually a difference between software synths and all types of hardware synths (not only digital), in other words, in-the-box vs outboard gear. It’s a less obvious yet HUGE difference that only a few uesrs think about:
The consequences of a different interface
Based on my experience as a professional electronic music composer and synthesist, and as an owner of dozens of hardware synths and a long list of softsynths, I can assure you that the differences in the way we control software and hardware synths differentiate them more from one another, than their sound or features ever could. While hardware synths might feature (ideally) a large number of switches, buttons, faders, sliders, dials, encoders, joysticks, software synth applications and plug-ins typically offer a streamlined graphical interface, showing the image of buttons, sliders, selectable parameter windows, drop-down menus and value fields.
Our physical connection with an electronic instrument plays an important role in musical sound design: being “one” with a familiar model often yields more diverse and interesting results. While “mousing around” on the screen and trying to access certain parameters in menus and sub-menus of a software synth can make the sound sculpting process way too streamlined, unintuitive and even frustrating, the literally hands-on operation of the hardware synths makes the user able to hear or imagine a sound or tonal character first, at the same time reach for a dedicated knob and take the sound to the just imagined direction instantaneously. No ideas lost or “textures in your mind” gone before your ears get to hear the changes in the sound – the mind is ready to take the instantaneously heard sound to a new direction in real time by directing the hands. This sensation of literally touching a parameter, this continuous two-way feedback between the two hands and the ear/mind ensures a highly creative and idea-inducing sound shaping process, which is largely or completely missing when one is using an indirect controller such as a mouse, is entering values, scrolling through menus. Even with a controller keyboard, you are limited to one particular interface, the controls of which were not designed with your particular soft synth in mind. We use the mouse for way too many things in our lives today, why make the way we control all of our instruments so uniform, too?
Although some awkward menus of small-display digital hardware synths might slow you down in the sound design process, they will still offer a direct hands-on experience, and a menu system featuring a different structure and logic for every instrument – less likely that you will follow the usual left-to-right structure of soft synths, and less chance that you will end up at the same place when you’re trying to create a brand new sonic texture or behavior.
The significance of the difference between what tools (like a mouse vs physical buttons) and what senses (such as seeing vs touching) we use to communicate with an instrument is greatly underestimated by most, yet they might allow users to unlock the real creative and unique potentials of their hardware instruments, and more importantly, expand and realize the user’s sonic ideas.
Don’t get me wrong – I like many software synthesizers and actually use several in Studio CS. So where do I see their advantage? Some of them will feature unique parameters or functions not found anywhere else, and using these in conjunction with the more traditional ones can lead you to new sonic territories. Unfortunately, these instruments are quiet rare, I could name only a handful that give you truly new and actually useful options (and they aren’t the really popular ones). If you want a totally sterile, noise- and unintentionally distortion-free sound, they are a great choice, especially when you’re keeping your entire production inside of your DAW. Then, there are the obvious practical benefits, such as saving physical space (they take up none), and saving money (they usually cost fraction of the hardware instruments, or are even free) for the user. They usually have a faster learning curve, they offer a simple-to-understand, large graphical interface, many preset sounds and the ease of saving user sounds with a single click. They won’t increase your electric bill, you can’t drop them by accident, you won’t ever need replacement parts, and they don’t even need cleaning – softsynths are definitely the most convenient option when it comes to synthesizers.
The question is, however: is it convenience that you want, when it comes to your sound?
I rarely comment on the work of others publicly, and generally stay away from posting my opinions on YouTube, but I felt that I had to share my point of view when I came across a video titled “What is Art?“. Watch it here:
My opinion might be different from many other viewers’ (as you can see on YouTube, in the video’s comment section), and by some, even considered extreme, which is why I thought it would be important to share an expanded version of my original comment below.
While I like the first half of the piece, in which the title question is asked and examples are presented, showing some typical and not so typical forms of art, focusing on the complexity and subjective nature of the question itself, I don’t like the second half, where it implies that every creation that means something to someone (anyone) can be considered art.
The question the video poses is great, however I don’t agree with the implied conclusion. In my opinion, the words “art” and “artist” are used extremely lightly these days. Most everyone is automatically referred to as an “artist” who happens to snap a “good” photo, or can sing better than average on a Christmas party, or draws some random shapes that “must mean” something (and the meaning is often forced on the drawing after it’s completed, just to validate it as “art”). This is not everyone, but a growing percentage of the population. So, thank to the internet, humanity has seen an exponential, 10,000-times growth of artists and real art in the past 20 years? I don’t think so.
I believe it takes way more to create true “art”… to start with, a personal, direct or indirect experience-based perspective on life, or an element of life (which is why art students usually have disadvantage simply because of their extent of life experience, also why an art degree doesn’t make one an artist). It also takes an original way of expressing that personal message. Despite of having composed hundreds of hours of original music (most commissioned) for movies, television, installations, etc. that won awards, etc., I’ve never in my life felt comfortable calling myself an “artist”, nor my pieces “art” – and in fact never said these words. Funnily, many creators I’ve worked with (both new & established), boldly introduce themselves: “I’m an Artist” – this is especially true in the U.S., where people feel more comfortable about declaring themselves as something/someone that they wish to be.
To me, the statement about being an artist, and the result of creativity being a piece of art should never come from the creator. Instead of asking what’s art and what’s not, which is a blurred line anyway due to its subjective nature, I’d rather draw the lines between these categories:
1. technology-dependent creative users
2. artsy dreamers (self-declared “artists” / wannabe-s)
3. entertainment industry production professionals, and
4. true artists
Surely there is nothing wrong with being any of these, or liking their work. In many cases there is even an overlap between these categories). My problem is with those statements that generalize “art” and “artist”, and put the creations of all people of the above categories into the carelessly used and overused concept of real, actual Art. This doesn’t seem to be fair to those who are in categories #4 (and in some cases #3 – “applied arts” is another subject for another time), and overly generous to #1 and #2. I think it’s actually not just stupid, but irresponsible: the more people accept today’s average consumer’s innocently but disgustingly broad definition of art, the more the fake-artists, non-artists and wannabe-artists will be encouraged to feel like true artists creating real art, justifying their made-up-on-the-fly concepts and products, the prices and success of their work… which in turn, will keep driving down the average or summed quality standard of all art being created, essentially diluting the original concept of Art itself. To call artsy dreamers’ concept-less creations “pieces of art”, especially by them, is just as false and ignorant, as calling a gene-modified, chemical-injected cow’s milk which has 50% artificial ingredients and has gone through various preservation processes “nature’s organic gift”. The overly liberal definition of art, just like in the case of food, results in a mass-produced, thin, value-less version of the original, a dishonest product. Of course, there comes marketing, which seemingly adds the lost value back by smartly and boldly declaring the lie to be true. No wonder, many of the “successful” artists are way, way better at self-marketing than at anything else.
This wouldn’t even be a problem, if there wasn’t a large enough demand for the valueless work. But there is – thank to at least two major groups.
First, the average consumer, who just doesn’t see the difference between the artsy stuff and the art piece (growing up and consuming television and video games throughout their life, how would they?) Then, the snobby buyer version of the “artist” group #2 (see above), who think that everything that’s under-marketed (used to be called “alternative” and “underground” in the ’80s) and uncommon is artsy, not understood by the masses, therefore unique and worthy of is price. The “artist” gets paid, the circle closes and the process starts all over. Just like in a factory. Again, this is more true in the U.S., where marketing originated from and art and entertainment are easily mixed, but the nose-diving trend is a world-wide phenomenon. I suppose the limitless artistic collaboration and distribution possibilities that the internet gives us has its great benefits, but is also a curse on a larger scale. Good things can be created that would have been impossible to conceive (read about Brian Eno’s great concept of “scenius”), but the cultural trash also has a much easier way to spread around the Planet, quickly infecting the unsuspecting consumer population.
Although it may be reproduced with that goal, art is not created to deceive nor to help counterbalance a buyer’s lack of individual opinion or consumer-grade taste. In my opinion (here comes the extreme statement), true Art is not created with a specific goal at all, but it is created with/from a personal concept of an idea, ideology or message. In other words, the message itself, the way that message is expressed and the delivery of that message (sharing with an audience) are the purpose of Art’s existence. And no, drawing random circles with absolutely no concept behind it or hitting the piano keys as fast as possible, then adding some marketing to both to ensure good sales figures is certainly not art but cheap circus. Just because it has not been done before, it won’t make it art. And true art doesn’t need to be re-defined by trends and it certainly doesn’t need marketing to become what it already is.
I suppose all this isn’t much more helpful in drawing the line than the video is…. but I hope that it provides a counterpoint to the video, at least. I could never define what true art mean to you, but I am pretty sure to know when I hear or see a piece that is not honest – which, to me, isn’t art either.
Although the technical difference between them is significant, what really sets sampled orchestral music and electro-orchestral music apart is the idea behind the composition, and the type of sonic character and musical expressions the composer prefers to communicate these different ideas with. Let’s take a look at these two approaches to music composition, which can result in very diverse types of music.
Basics of a Sampled Orchestra
A sampled orchestra is a close imitation of a real one, or rather, the special-purpose recording and triggered playback of the sounds of individual orchestral instruments (or section of instruments). The playback of the sounds is accomplished by a new musical performance on a keyboard or with another type of midi- or non-standard digital controller. The way the samples are made ready for a composer’s use – the sound sourcing process – is fairly simple and standard:
First, high-quality recordings of individual notes played by various instruments are made, one by one across their entire musical range, capturing each note performed with different expressions and techniques, possibly using different microphone setups and even various spaces (concert hall, performance stage, studio, etc.).
Secondly, the combination of the hundreds of recorded samples are organized in a digital sample player (hardware or software) in order for the appropriate notes (samples) to be played back when striking the keys across a keyboard (or other midi controller) with various strength. For instance, when one hits a middle C softly on the controller keyboard, the “soft middle C piano” sample (a short recording of the instrument’s softly played middle C note) will be played back by the sampler, sounding until the key is held. Once the key is released, the “middle C string soft damping with hammer action noise” sample is played back, imitating the noise of the real piano key’s release. The keys of the controller keyboard act like playback start buttons, each triggering the playback of the appropriate combination of recordings.
The performance can be quite convincing, especially to the untrained ears. The majority of the orchestral scores of movies and tv films made in the past 10-12 years were produced with this technique. The goal is to create an orchestral recording, which gives the impression of a real orchestra’s performance – without the logistic challenges and serious expense of hiring an orchestra, support staff, renting a sound stage or concert hall, etc. Sample libraries produced by several companies who specialize in sample-set production can be purchased – you can put together an imitation orchestra sample library for as little as $500 (or for serious professional work for as much as $50,000). However, the challenge isn’t so much in achieving a great sound quality (today’s samples are usually pretty high quality recordings), but in making the performance believable.
With sampled orchestral setups, the challenge isn’t in achieving a great sound quality but in making the performance believable.
The character and expressive playability of real instruments come in large part from their design – the way they are designedto be played. In general, we know not only the sound character of an instrument, in case of a violin, the timbre of the violin, but we know the sound of the violin when played by a violinist. After we transfer the various sound samples into a sampler, we will be playing every instrument using a keyboard. Without a bow, without strings, and without the techniques acquired and perfected by years of violin practice, we will not be able to use the pure sound of a violin with the same expression as a violin player can.
Of course, technology tries to have an answer for everything – in this case mostly by imitation of reality (though never a perfect copy – which would defeat the purpose anyway). Sample manipulation, software programming and audio mixing tricks, as well as the use of various performance controllers on keyboards (buttons, levers, pots, sliders, ribbons, etc.) can add more life and expression to the sound by changing certain characters of it (i.e. the more important parameters of the samples). Moreover, some less traditional midi controllers have emerged in the past decade, with the promise of a more varied, sometimes more natural performance communication between the player and the sample playback device or software. While some of them are played by blowing and striking, other controllers use buttons, digitally cnotrolled valves, touch-pads and laser, infrared or ultrasonic beams. Although with all these controllers we can add a wide range of expressions to the sound, or smoothly switch from one playing technique / sample to another during the performance, something is missing. It is the organic, human touch what makes a real performance come alive; the imperfections, noises, and the fact that on real instruments, the same notes never sound the exact same, and they rarely sound perfect.
A popular technique called sweetening is often used to help this issue; by adding a few real musicians’ performance on real instruments to the mix of the digitally-created orchestral parts, imperfections, noises and subtle variations in performance can be introduced. The intention is to “humanize” the piece and mask the overly polished sound of the sampled orchestra at the same time. Although this masking doesn’t make ones and zeros become organic material, the difference between a real orchestral performance and a well-produced sampled orchestra can be unrecognizable by most listeners. (Some exceptionally well-produced compositions can give a hard time even to professional composers and orchestrators when trying to guess whether they are listening to sampled & sweetened or an entirely orchestral performance).
Sampled orchestras tend to work better for large symphonic pieces, than for solos and chamber setups, where the digital nature of the sampler performance is harder to hide. Of course, knowing the attributes and limitations of all traditional instruments, their performance techniques and tricks, as well as being experienced at orchestral work is a major advantage for composers who venture into performing sampled orchestral music. Naively, some feel like an instant “orchestral composer” by simply playing a keyboard and switching between various orchestral samples. The affordability and convenience of technology has falsely empowered many, often only to result in embarrassingly fake-sounding recordings (even in “professional circles” – let’s not mention the A-list examples here).
Sounds of the electro-orchestral music
Since electro-orchestral music isn’t really orchestral music as far as the instruments concerned, we approach it with a healthy absence of preconceived notions or expectations. In the above example of the violin, we all know what this traditional instrument sounds like, what sound to expect to come out of it. But, we usually don’t know what an electronic musical instrument sounds like before we hear it. Synthesizers and other electronic instruments sound the way we make them sound. Not only there is no “perfect sound” to match, nor centuries-old standards and performance techniques to imitate, often, the more original or unique character they produce, the better. As the phrase “electro-orchestral” suggests, the music is usually composed on and produced with electronic instruments, and the sound itself is electronic in nature… but then what makes electro-orchestral orchestral?
If a piece of music sounds “kind of like orchestral” but it’s not, the chances are it was simply poorly produced; it might be trying to sound like orchestral, but the quality of samples, or more often, the sub-standard performance gives it away. Many who don’t have the access to high quality samples or the knowledge and experience to write orchestral music for an orchestra, make the mistake of trying to sound like one, using a common rompler plugin, cheap samples or a digital synth or workstation. It is not what electro-orchestral music is.
Electro-orchestral music is one that sounds “almost like an orchestral piece” because of the overall grand feel of the sonic experience and the structure/arrangement of the music, but it does not intend to sound like an orchestra at all. The various sections of an orchestra, like strings, brass, woodwinds, percussion, can be represented by electronic sounds with similar general character to their related orchestral instruments/sections, but with no intention to imitate the traditional orchestra’s sound. Their place in the overall sonic palette of the music and their role in the arrangement and orchestration (electro-orchestration would be a better phrase) can be very similar, however. For example a violin-like sound playing a melody line in the higher octaves, a bright brass-like sound playing a mid-range melody or stabs that the horns would play in an orchestra, or a flue-like sound playing a counter-melody or small micro-melodies in the style of a typical woodwinds section. However, these sounds are not created by traditional instruments nor by their samples, but by various electronic components found in hardware instruments such as synthesizers, or by software algorithms.
Sounds created by electronic instruments can introduce the new element of sonic texture to the musical environment, a dimension relatively limited in pure orchestral music. This new element can strongly influences the feel the music carries or creates, and ultimately effects the entire ideology behind the composition and the compositional process.
In addition, sounds not even remotely reminiscent of traditional instruments can be used, often adding important flavors to the electro-orchestral piece. An arpeggiated bass, a randomly changing lfo-d filter, a glitch-y percussion part, a sweeping pad, an ethnic instrument’s lead or some manipulated environmental noise can complement the more standard parts of the orchestration structure well. In a sampled orchestral piece, they might work against the goal of imitating an acoustic instrumentation, but in electro-orchestral music, they can add original character, a unique feel and expression to the piece. At the end, a deliberately electronic instrumentation, giving the overall feel (but not the sound) of an orchestral-size performance will carry the composer’s message to the listener.
Differences beyond technicalities
The type and purpose of music that the composer desires to create determines the approach, tools and techniques (s)he uses to achieve the best results. For example, to score an emotional cue in a romantic movie, a composer might use real strings, woodwinds and piano, but without the budget (mostly the case) or time to record live players, a good alternative is to imitate them by a sampled-orchestral performance. This also gives the composer the flexibility to easily re-write and re-arrange parts later. The goal is still to sound as close to the real soaring strings of an orchestra as possible.
A completely different purpose and style might inspire the composer to turn to the electro-orchestral approach. Sounds created by electronic instruments can introduce the new element of sonic textureto the musical environment, a dimension relatively limited in pure orchestral (real or sampled) music. This new element can strongly influence the feel the music carries or creates, and ultimately effect the entire idea behind the composition and the compositional process. An example of this would be a score for a futuristic movie, that requires the music cues typically used in such movies (action, romance, surprise, mystique, etc.) to support the plot and characters, however, carries the futuristic environment in every bit of the sound. Think of Blade Runner – an orchestral score could have worked fine, but the electro-orchestral approach doubled the impact and unique feel of the movie. While sounding somewhat traditional, the score was entirely produced with synthesizers.
(A challenge for composers: let’s switch up the instrumentation and genre of the last two examples. Writing an orchestral score for a sci-fi movie is the easy part – can be done routinely, have been done many times. But how would you approach scoring a real-life story’s romantic scene with electronic instruments? This forces you to think about sounds, textures… go beyond the traditional musical elements of rhythm, melody and harmony, and ultimately create something more original.)
While movie scores are the most representative examples, the same is true for musical works. We often don’t realize that the reason behind the largish feel and “full”, “well-though-out” and “complete” sound of a track is its orchestral-like arrangement- and instrumentation structure, but it being performed with non-traditional sounds doesn’t make the similarity obvious. This is even true for many mainstream songs today. It is interesting to note, that some typical sounds and sound categories of early (and actually, even many of today’s) synthesizers are named mirroring their orchestral “inspirations”; some of the most known (and now classic) synth patches are the likes of “Jupiter-6 strings”, “CS-80 brass” or “DX-7 piano”. Although at more than one point in the history of electronic music (see “Ambient vs. New-Age”) these instruments did try to imitate their real counterparts, they remained far-from perfect impressions of them, but with a unique character of their own, responsible for great success of some excellent non-orchestral composers. (They eventually became classic electronic sounds themselves, subject of imitation and sampling by newer electronic instruments and software – more about this later in another post, until then listen to some famous sounds here).
Tradition and Progression
Personally, I have a great respect for the traditional instruments of the symphonic orchestra, and have used them quite a lot (from large real orchestras to cutting-edge sampled orchestral setups). But I have an even bigger appreciation for the electronic instruments; when using them, we don’t imitate, rather create sounds (and even new imaginative instruments). We create more than just a melody, a theme, a piece, a mood, we create a feel that even a single note can carry! Why limit ourselves to the 35-40 traditional orchestral instruments when writing music with grandiose feel or for expressive instrument solos, if we can have the luxury of using thousands of traditional and non-traditional ethnic instruments (or their samples) and an unlimited number of electronic sounds as well?
I believe that the electro-orchestral (and various electronic, ambient, etc.) music opens up the boundaries and greatly expands the limits of the (otherwise fairly versatile) traditional instruments. It must have been super exciting to first explore these possibilities in the 60’s and 70’s with the first synthesizers, however with today’s music technology industry on one side, and the challenge to create truly original sounds and new musical instruments on the other side, it is still a never-ending adventure. Many of us have first-time memories of a feel or a sonic experience created by some non-traditional sounds in a movie, a film trailer, or even just a song on the radio. And while some of yours might be electronic in nature, it’s interesting to realize that their role in the music might have been the same as a traditional instruments role in the most known classical pieces a few hundred years ago.
Same structure or not, the new dimension of sonic textures might just be what gives us the amazing feeling of discovering new musical landscapes today.
I want to clear up a misconception / misuse of two words. Many people think (even some composers and those in the music business), that the musical styles “Ambient” and “New Age” are the same and these two expressions are interchangeable. Especially in the US, people tend to pigeonhole both into some simple, mellow, uninteresting, cheesy (yet not even existing) style of “mood music” or “elevator music”. And they could not be any more wrong. Although these days they can be partially right. More about this later. In Europe, as electronic and various contemporary instrumental musical styles are much more popular, the mix-up is less of an issue, however the differences are often just guessed and not clearly understood.
First let’s take a look at what these wonderful musical genres are not. Although the categories “elevator music” and “mood music” do exist, these phrases reference the use, rather than the genre of such music. Especially elevator music – which has become a somewhat cynical phrase in English to describe an uninteresting wall of background music – is not descriptive of a music genre; I have heard classical, contemporary orchestral, country, big band, electronic, new age, jazz, and even rock music in elevators. There are “mood music” or “atmospheric music” CDs available as well, some not even containing music but sound effects, some featuring classical music. Therefore, these aren’t musical styles, rather modern-day expressions describing the use, or (sometimes rightfully) suggesting the lack of diversity and musical depth of a track.
Let’s go back to the question of Ambient vs. New Age music. In their “lighter”, commercialized form, well known since the ’80s, these can be some gently flowing, predictable pieces of music, often using only a few basic chords, inspiring melodies and simple, most likely synth – based instrumentation, with frequent use of piano and strings (or string-like synth pads), maybe some arpeggiated synth parts. However, in the late ’60s, pioneers of electronic music were already working on a compositionally and aesthetically much deeper level to create Ambient pieces (and New Age music later in the ’70s).
While Ambient music in the ’60s and through the ’70s usually referred to new experimental music, noise- and sound-inspired music (such as music concrete) – contemporary electronic music with no- or very limited commercial intentions, – early New Age (and a handful of Ambient) compositions were popularized by the great modern composers of instrumental-electronic music, such as Vangelis, Eno (who first started using the phrase “ambient music”), Jarre, Oldfield, Schulze, Clarke, etc. Of course, I do not blame these wonderful creators for the commercialization of the style – that was the (unavoidable?) side effect of the popularization of their work itself! Also, thank to them, electronic music in general gained a much wider acceptance, and later appreciation… without which only a few of you would be reading my lines now, or, maybe electronic music would mean something entirely different today (an interesting topic for another time).
In the ’90s, the music industry was squeezing all it could out of New Age music, eventually making it into atmospheric relaxation cheese.
In a way, New Age helped to make electronic music accessible and enjoyable for the quality-demanding audiences, especially in Europe where electronic and rock instrumentations were kept more separate (outside of the Lucky Man type of approach) than in the U.S. However, the process in which New Age music got diluted into some atmospheric relaxation nonsense (and yes, typical elevator music), is another, rather unfortunate matter. I won’t mention the names of the performers with pretty smiles, long hair and white pianos here, as they were only messengers with a bad taste and too much hunger for fame. Not bringing up the listening standards of the masses to the already popularized electronic/new age music, but dumbing down a style to create assembly-line type of products that appealed mostly to an overly romantic segment of the audience was an unforgivable yet familiar deed of the music industry. It is their greed that has made New Age into what it is today.
While New Age often intended to express traditional (romantic, classical) ideas by replacing orchestral instruments with synthesized sounds, Ambient music has always contained a certain level of experimentation and sonic risk (from a popularity angle). Although the philosophy and driving force behind the evolution of the New Age and Ambient styles have been different from the beginning, there are countless examples for their marriage, often blurring the line between the two genres – especially in the early ’80s (think of Vangelis or Eno).
With the explosion of digital technologies and their application in music production, the two styles’ deviation accelerated in the early to mid-90s, thank to the better mass-appeal and marketability of New Age, and as a consequence of these new technologies’ effect on electronic music production, serving up the two genres’ differing fundamental ideology in different ways. While it became even easier and a fairly challenge-less task to produce New Age records, with every record farther diluting the already over-digested writing- production- and listening experience, Ambient music stayed true to its origin and took the harder road: the challenge of originality. Although not yet in a widely published way (not that it has ever been widely published), Ambient music started truly benefiting from the advances in digital audio- and music production, especially sample manipulation, new synthesis methods and new electronic instruments and controllers.
Digital technologies opened up new dimensions for Ambient music. From sample manipulation to new synthesis methods and processing techniques, ambient music has now unlimited territories to explore on all levels of sonics. At least, unlimited as long as the entertainment industry stays away.
By the end of the ’90s, the focus shifted from interesting chords and repurposed real-life sounds to produced-from-scratch soundscapes, and sounds constructed and modified in new and original ways. The decade-long influence of popular electronic music (mainly techno, then trance and drum&bass around the turn of the millennium) breathed new life into Ambient. The 2000s brought the rediscovery of integrating acoustic instruments and the benefits of using new performance techniques into electronic music, which further shaped Ambient music into what some refer to as “the classical music of the digital age”.
I feel that these days “New Age” has a less flattering connotation than ever before, while “Ambient” has expanded from the textural and very loosely structured compositions into various electronic and electroacoustic directions, which make it appealing for a wider audience than before, yet its philosophy and complexity keep it “niche enough” to prevent it from the dangerous commercialization New Age went through. In 1981, I would have gladly announced myself as someone working in either genres, however, today I rather introduce myself as a composer of ambient electronic music, to avoid any preconceived ideas.
Of course, all these expressions, sub-genres of electronic music, transformations and influences aside, what matters is the music itself, not what we call it.
These days, the first thing that comes into the mind of most of us when hearing the word “hero” is the main character of some unrealistic tv-series or movie, or the over-exaggerated way the word is used for youngsters who save the family cat from the neighbor’s dog. In our time, true heroes are very scarce – the feel that surrounds the word makes it easier to associate with a fairytale, than with someone in the reality of the weekdays. I’m not talking about the heroes that the media fabricates to make a nice story sound larger to boost their audience therefore advertising rates, either. What we have been witnessing since March the 11th, 2011, is an eye-opening experience of true, real-life heroism in the word’s meaning as classic and rightful as ever.
I don’t want to repeat the story of the extraordinarily selfless men and women, who decided to give their health, and risk their lives for those in the area of the Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear reactors, to protect the people of their country and beyond, working in randomly fluctuating levels of radiation, doing so voluntarily, knowing that the sacrifice might be the last one they make – although not their personal details, but their story has been well documented in the media and online.
But how do you document what it feels like to be fighting against a silent, invisible enemy? How do you document what it feels like having to focus on an extremely important job and put your thoughts about your family in danger aside? How do you document what it feels like to be a faceless, nameless hero, yet the hope of your country?
Music can express far more than words… which is why the idea of writing a hymn to the Fukushima 50 to show my respect and admiration didn’t take much thinking – in fact, I don’t even remember making the choice. My first recollection of the process is when I was getting ready in the morning, taking a shower and constantly thinking about the TEPCO employees who stayed at the reactors, and realizing how easily and quickly I could loose the luxury of such a seemingly simple thing as the hot shower, if I was one of them. I knew that I wanted to do something more than just sending some money – I wanted to praise the Fukushima workers for making the choice they made. I wanted everyone to pay attention to them and to ask the same question that I was asking myself: would I do it?
The various angles
Seeing the photos and news footage of the thousands of lives ruined by the tsunami made many of us feel helpless humans at the mercy of nature. We wish we could do something to help, but we can’t reverse time. What we can do, besides helping the relief efforts, is to offer support and inspiration. Inspiration via words, events, ideas, art… whatever form of communication we can reach the farthest with. Music being my life and profession, I naturally chose this most universal language to communicate my thoughts, and to support the efforts of those less fortunate to move on and rebuild.
Now three weeks into the crisis, it’s sad to think about that with all the technology we have, it’s still people who have to make huge sacrifices to turn things back to normal. People like you and me, with families; wives and husbands, sons and daughters, parents, jobs and houses, friends and future plans. Of course, it’s not the investors, owners and management who end up fixing things – it’s the employees. Things are so reversed.
It’s not a secret that my grandmother passed away shortly after Chernobyl – my family has seen the effects of radiation from way too close. She was the most loving, selfless and patient grandma you can imagine. She loved her family and her flowers and she had many plans. While writing the Fukushima 50 Hymn, my sadness was magnified by my memories of her.
In contrast with her tragedy, in a weird, almost shameless way, I have been always fascinated by nuclear reactors, particle accelerators and the like – most likely due to my curiosity about everything related to nature. While learning about the science and technology behind the machines and processes, and thinking about the mystery and danger of the yet undiscovered surprises, I often found myself in thoughts about the “big questions” [the why, when and where… the focus of my current musical direction and upcoming works]. I wanted to make radioactivity audible. Not with the sound of Geiger counters, but with musical sounds that express mystery, danger, and concentrated energy. As these elements are playing a major role in the events at the Fukushima reactors, I wanted to give a musical character to uranium, gamma radiation and the alpha particles.
The expression of sadness, the mystique & danger of nuclear energy, the recognition of heroism and the inspiration to fight and celebrate the brave – all these aspects are included in the Hymn, but I chose to focus primarily on the two most positive ones: recognition and inspiration.
Before anyone starts using the Fukushima crisis as a fuel for the nuclear energy debate worldwide, first the F50 has a battle to win. It isn’t a battle against nature; what the Fukushima 50 are cleaning up is the filth of greed and bi-product of science, the latter making the convenience of modern life, that we enjoy daily, possible for all of us. Therefore all of us should salute to those who are still fighting the battles as I’m writing this.
We should show them that we care, that we have the deepest respect and appreciation for their dedication, whatever the final outcome may be. And we must share our views with others around us, help them notice the heroes among us.
Our first steps
The Hym to the Fukushima 50 music and video has been doing quite well on YouTube. Besides receiving some media coverage, we received over 10,000 views in the first week, and now after two weeks we are getting close to 30,000. It being an original piece, as opposed to just shocking news footage or celebrity egocast, these are very respectable numbers. More importantly, we have been inspiring thoughts and donations: I’ve been getting requests after requests for the music (free with any donation to Japan through any charity organization – see the news item here). Many emails point out that it was the Hymn that inspired the viewer to donate. Based on the emails, our guesstimate puts the amount of “inspired donations” around $10,000 so far – put this in the perspective of the couple of hours it took me to compose and arrange the music, and one short night that it took us to research and produce the video. Obviously, it was more than worth it.
To those who asked why I don’t sell the music for income or donations, or direct viewers to the iTunes page of my latest album, Transitions (whose digital release date was coincidentally just a few days after I had written the F50 Hymn – I actually forgot about my album release:), I can answer simply: because you don’t sell bandages to the wounded. Besides, as a composer, I have already made popular success a memory of my past; I’m not here to sell; my mission is only to express feelings and share thoughts with original music that’s uninfluenced by trends, money or the industry.
I sincerely thank to everyone who has watched, and especially to those who spread the word about the video, commented, or donated and messaged me for the music. Let’s not stop here, let’s keep sharing the idea and keep making a difference, so that even after the media replaces the headlines with another attention-drawer, we’ll be witnessing the heroism and supporting the Fukushima 50.
I wish each and every one of them strength for now, happiness and health for the future.
