Satan in Rock Music–The Devil is in the Details

It’s really an unavoidable subject, one that has come up time and again in various ways: what exactly is the power of rock, or any music for that matter, for causing harm or for promoting evil? In particular, what is the effect of all these references to Satan in the lyrics and imagery of so much rock music? And if music can be an uplifting spiritual influence in the context of religious ceremonies, can it have a detrimental effect outside of that context?

If we consider that certain music has beneficial qualities–and indeed, we know that some music is used clinically in music therapy to treat psychological and physical ailments–then certainly it would seem logical that some music can have detrimental qualities–that it can produce harmful psychological and physical effects. So, we should keep this in mind as we proceed through our analysis.

Many of us are aware that various new types of music for young people have been referred to as the work of the devil for almost 100 years now–starting back when jazz was considered to be a scourge by some. This go-to complaint goes back much, much further than that, however. A review of that history in Western Christian culture will help give us some insight into this tendency.

Medieval wandering minstrels, with their secular music were viewed by the pious as having a pernicious influence at best—patently pagan at worst. The church father Tertullian warned the faithful way back in the 2nd century that “musical concerts with viol and lute” belong to the Roman gods, and for that reason “must be the object of loathing and aversion.” Music, or the use of musical instruments outside of the voice,  was banned entirely at various times for hundreds of years afterwards. Saint Augustine took the position that since the beauty of even worship music could cause him to be swept up in the experience and forget God, he should probably err on the side of caution and avoid music and help keep it out of church. Bruno Carthis went so far as to say that God “has no more need of music than He has of human sacrifice.”

Once the longstanding heebee jeebies about the lingering influence of Roman culture started to subside, however, people started remembering the many exhortations in the Bible to sing and make music for God, which appear over and over again in the Old Testament. St. Basil helped turn things around by pointing out how worship music helped ingrain the message of the gospel. Over the next thousand years, music grew in the church from simple plainchants that were standardized and spread throughout Europe with remarkable consistency to a healthy competition for experimenting with more harmonic complexity and breadth of expression, eventually spilling out of the church and forming the Western European classical music tradition.

So, we see that there has been a “fear of music” for quite a long time in Western culture, and looking back over the last 100 years we can see this coming through in the recurring tendency—found especially in the older, more conservative people—to label anything new, rowdy, and difficult to comprehend as a product of evil forces. But, on the other hand, we’ve seen since the 1970s that there have been many musicians and bands who have consciously projected an image—and in some cases emblazoned themselves in that imagery—that is dark, grotesque, or satanic. Surely this proves some of those naysayers right, does it not?

These questions have taken on great importance for me personally over the years. When I was a teenager on a church youth group mission to Myrtle Beach, we were lectured by a guest speaker about how ALL rock music was satanic, because supposedly pretty much all the musicians were putting blatant or secret evil messages into their music, and because the very nature of the electrical sounds used and the beating of the drums was intrinsically harmful and worked aggressive against spiritual pursuits. Of course, I rejected this idea as preposterous–that even “All You Need Is Love” was somehow a force of evil hacking away at the goodness in the world—and I would later conclude that these types of blanket denunciations do far more harm than good by making people less receptive to the possibility that some music in some contexts can possibly be harmful to some people in some situations. Over the years of my strange personal journey in music and philosophy, this question of whether music can cause harm has popped up again and again, and I felt compelled to make a thorough evaluation of it, both from the perspective of the objective influence of sound vibrations as well as from the subjective experience of a listener responding to the instrumental and lyrical context of music, as well the influence of the personal lives of the artists themselves.

First of all, we should consider the critical idea that music is an art form, and so there is a need to understand music beyond its face value. There are many evil, or tragic, figures in opera, for instance. Mozart’s Don Giovanni depicts a repugnant womanizer who gets away with the most horrible abuses, and whose consequences come in the form of a tormented afterlife. Shakespeare’s plays similarly have many violent acts in them. We understand that these are depictions of things in the world, and they are being presented to tell a story. We aren’t fooled into thinking that Don Giovanni promotes depraved deceptions for sexual conquests, just because the lead character is given many opportunities to express his low qualities and motivations. Filmmakers who depict violent characters are not condoning such behavior either. They are painting pictures, for us to observe and contemplate.

Well, what is a song if not a miniature story? Sure, the “voice,” or character, being expressed through many rock songs is not far off from the singer’s own personal views–and indeed they may be intended to be bare-bones personal expressions of the singer (just throw a dart at the catalog of John Lennon songs, for example, and you’ll easily find great examples of this)–but many times the singer is taking on some type of character in order to tell a story from a non-personal perspective.

When Guns ‘n Roses sang I wanna watch you bleed, they weren’t expressing a personal, sadistic view that they held, but were rather giving voice to a character who represents certain people in society who actually do take some form of pleasure in seeing other people suffer, or who are callously indifferent to the suffering that others experience as a result of their actions. On a similar but deeper vein, when the Grateful Dead sang one of their most famous lines A friend of the devil is a friend of mine, they were telling a classic outlaw story through poetry that has many different interpretations, and speaks to us on multiple levels—none of which are the face-value interpretation that someone can make by taking that single phrase out of context.

One prime example of this type of giving voice to a character is the Rolling Stones song “Sympathy for the Devil.” Now, just the title alone is enough to raise the ire of some people. “Oh, the Rolling Stones want us to have sympathy for the Devil.” No. Of course not. The song is about how the devil, as this symbol of that force which gives impetus to people to do evil things, tries to elicit our sympathy in subtle and tricky ways. Evil hides in respectability, but it commits atrocities, and confusion is the key tool that evil uses to trick people into committing or supporting evil acts. So, sure, there’s plenty of evil out there for us to see, but perhaps the most dangerous evil for any given individual is the subtle one they haven’t even detected yet that broods in their own internal confusion.

So, this is deep, religious, philosophical stuff here, that the Rolling Stones gave us. But yet, how easy would it be to take a shallow view and just say that Mick Jagger is relishing all these acts of evil that have been committed over time, and is encouraging allegiance to Satan? I think most reasonable people would agree that such a conclusion can only be made if this song is horribly misconstrued.

Well, perhaps some music is more easily misconstrued than others. Does that make the music bad or something to be avoided or condemned? Before we answer that question, let’s consider how anything can be misconstrued by anybody at any time. A well-known example is Charles Manson. Manson apparently held a belief, or at least he certainly justified to his followers that he held a belief, that the Beatles had signaled to him through their White Album, and in particular the songs “Piggies” and “Helter Skelter,” that the time for what he believed to be the “great race war” was at hand and that he was being called to kick start it by organizing the murder of whoever happened to be at the home of Roman Polanski one night (which he probably thought was still the home of Terry Melcher–this guy that Manson had pinned his hopes of being a big rock star on, before he got let down by him). So, this was clearly a lunatic’s interpretation, and Manson could have interpreted, really, any music to tell him the same thing, or to tell him some completely different insane thing.

Now, should the Beatles have stopped writing music after these murders happened? Should the White Album have been taken off the market? No. Absolutely not. Clearly, there was no cause and effect, and even eliminating all music, and all human art, would not have necessarily stopped the warped Manson mind from constructing some type of delusion from the external world to provide him with the directions to do what he did.

Ok, so, let’s look at other examples that may not be so clear-cut at first. There have been some famous murders and suicides that were blamed on specific musicians, and even specific songs. One highly publicized incident came out of a troubled boy whose suicide in 1984 was blamed on Ozzy Osbourne. The boy had suffered from clinical depression, but the parents blamed Ozzy and sued him because of his song “Suicide Solution.” Now, you might thing this would make sense if Ozzy had written some warped anthem, “Come on all you boys and girls, this is Ozzy saying ‘go ahead and kill yourself now, get it over with.’” Or whatever. But that was not the case at all. This song is about the dangers of alcohol abuse, and how alcohol–which is a chemical “solution”–is tragically used by the alcoholic to essentially commit a slow, protracted suicide. The courts ruled in Ozzy’s favor in the lawsuit, but it generated a lot of bad publicity. And then he had to defend against another similar lawsuit in 1991, which he again won.

Then there’s the rape/murder case from the mid-90s that was blamed on the death-metal band Slayer. Three really demented teenage boys committed some heinous acts and killed a girl from their school. One of them developed a guilty conscience about a year later and confessed, and in the subsequent investigation it came to be known that one of the three boys was obsessed with the victim, and had become obsessed with the idea of killing her. In their defense at trial they stated they committed the crime as part of a satanic ritual that they thought would give them the power they needed to become a famous rock band. (And on that latter point, it’s interesting to take note of some correlation here to Charles Manson, who’s demented view also included wanting to be famous.) So, the victim’s parents sued Slayer, asserting that their lyrics inspired the murder. That case was thrown out, as was a follow-up suit against the band and the record label for allegedly distributing harmful materials to minors. The judge in the 1st case pointed out that the family’s accusation opened a door in which there would be no limit to the scope of media products such as books and film that could be subjected to such lawsuits. After all, they say the typical 18-year-old has seen 200,000 acts of violence in TV and film and over 40,000 killings. The judge in the 2nd case, ruled that there was nothing harmful to minors in Slayer’s music. Although the music describes acts of violence, it does not promote or encourage violence–certainly not any more than violence is encouraged or promoted in film and TV.

And just how influential are some of these films that many of us have seen and enjoyed? Well, quite a few murders have actually been “inspired” by specific movies, as attested to by the killers themselves. To name a few, Natural Born Killers, A Clockwork Orange, Scream, The Dark Knight Batman film, American Psycho, and even Rambo–in some cases, multiple different killers for the same movie, and some serial killers and mass shooters. So, the question naturally arises: do movies turn normal or unstable people into killers, or is it simply the case that killers watch movies and occasionally incorporate them into their fantasies?

“Okay, point taken,” some may say. But, moving on, “there’s certainly no defense for bands and musicians who are blatantly satanic, blatantly promoting evil.” Well, to tackle that question, we’ll have to define what is the difference between “blatant promotion” and “artistic expression.” What may seem “blatant” to one person could amount to nothing more than a misinformed, misconstrued perspective to many others. A little walk-through on the history of this embrace, acceptance, or promotion of Satan in rock music should be helpful.

If we go back to the roots of rock music in the great Depression-era blues musicians–and for that, there’s no greater example than Robert Johnson– we find ample references to succumbing to the devil’s influence. Over time, a legend even developed that Johnson’s amazingly inventive and enlivening guitar techniques and skills were the result of a Faustian pact he made with the devil at some legendary “crossroads.” What actually was happening with Johnson (and, in fact, was also happening with many other blues musicians who similarly sang about the devil), however, is that he was expressing how he had embraced his decision to pursue life as a secular music, and live with the inevitable stigma that many in the communities he played for and beyond were quick to ascribe to him. Since he was not playing church music, many of the faithful commonly referred to him and his fellow musicians as playing “the devil’s music.” This was an intractable view that was not going to be changed by a few wandering musicians or the people that truly appreciated them. So, they decided to wear it like a badge—essentially saying, “Yes, I play the ‘devil’s music’ [as you would say].”

Well, fast forward a couple of decades when rock and roll was becoming a huge sensation through Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Elvis Presley, and others, and many church authorities, politicians, community leaders, and media figures were denouncing it as the devil’s music. Little Richard and Jerry Lee Lewis were among the first of these musicians to take the criticism to heart and hold serious doubts about whether they were creating sound vibrations that were intrinsically evil, and this fear actually had a real impact on their careers for a time.

References to Satan or the devil in the early 60s were more playful or metaphorical—the Beatles sang She’s got the devil in her heart, a remake of “The Devil in His Heart” by the Donays. In such songs, the idea of the devil is used as hyperbole for someone breaking another’s heart. Some of the blues tradition of embracing general accusations of the evil lifestyle of the itinerant musician survived through the years, but for the most part it became dormant through the early 60s until the blues-revival and psychedelic era of the mid to late 60s began. Then, the exploration of the dark side of human nature in popular music really took off, and “Sympathy for the Devil” is just one small example. Before “Sympathy for the Devil,” the Rolling Stones already had some abusive or dark characters in their songs, and they even put out an album called Her Satanic Majesty’s Request (their response to the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band), which ironically was more of a “peace and love” album than much of their other work, and whose title was probably influenced by their desire to further the “bad boy” image they had taken on.

Soon after this, however, bands like King Crimson, Pink Floyd, Black Sabbath, and others staked their claim in this territory by writing songs about all kinds of crazy and evil people, events, and forces. Roger Waters’ blood-curdling scream on “Careful with that Axe, Eugene,” still, to my mind, out does every so-called “screamo” band that has come in the years since. The demonic, ogre voice on Pink Floyd’s album Meddle, that says One of these days, I’m going to cut you into little pieces, would I’m sure have made my parents cringe in horror if they had heard me listening to it as an adolescent. Pink Floyd’s later offerings commonly dealt with mental illness, evil political figures, and (in the story-line of The Wall) an attempted suicide.

The band name King Crimson refers to kings under whose reign there is much war and bloodshed, but is easily expanded, and regarded by many, as a conception of the general source of evil in the world, i.e., the devil. There is much in the music of the first few incarnations of that band that deals with psychosis and evil forces, just as there is in the music of Black Sabbath, who take their name from an old horror film. These bands were by no means promoting evil, but were more or less saying, “Hey, there’s evil in the world. Here, look at it. What do you think?” Black Sabbath specifically wanted to evoke feelings in their music that one gets from watching horror films. But the horrors of the world—violence and war—were to them something to rail and fight against. Far from promoting evil, they wanted to soldier in the fight against it.

As the 1970s progressed, things really took off as heavy metal bands began adopting satanic iconography. AC/DC’s Angus Young wore devil horns on an album cover picture, and sang about “Hell’s Bells” and a “Highway to Hell.” Iron Maiden used a demonic-looking skeleton as their mascot while releasing albums like The Number of the Beast. When Ronnie James Dio took over for Ozzy Osbourne as singer for Black Sabbath in 1979, he started popularizing the so-called mano-corna (literally “hand-horn”) sign, made by holding up the index and pinky fingers while holding down the middle and ring fingers with the thumb. This actually comes from an old Italian superstition, and the symbol was widely used because it was supposed to ward off evil. As its use spread throughout the heavy metal community, however, it supposedly took on the meaning of demonstrating some allegiance to Satan, and is now made the focus of attacks and complaints by many who seek to dismiss as many musicians as they can as being satanic.

Many parents were understandably up in arms about these and other developments, which they only saw from the surface and did not have the wherewithal or interest in understanding more fully. There became so much demonic and satanic imagery with the heavy metal bands, that it really has become ubiquitous, a level that remains today within some subgenres. So, it became easy for some people to start seeing Satan in everything related to heavy metal, and by extension all rock music in general. There were organized community record-burnings of heavy metal albums, and when they figured out that the fumes were toxic they turned them into hammer-smashing events. These harkened back to the record burnings during the John Lennon publicity scandal in the mid-60s in which Lennon made some controversial statements in an interview about how so many of the youth were disenchanted and unenthused about the Church of England. So, again in the 1980s parents were protesting and successfully getting some of their children involved in the protests. But in the end, these spectacles likely just increased attention, and drove up sales and interest in the bands amongst kids who indirectly got the message that this stuff was forbidden, and was considered by parents to be awful and corruptive, and therefore . . . it must be something really good.

Let’s face it: rock music has been about rebellion from its beginnings. Rebelling against conventional culture, rebelling against older moral codes, rebelling against racial inequality and bigotry, and ultimately (by the 70s and 80s) clearly rebelling against the limited religious and philosophical views that pervaded Western societies. It is definitely true that organized Christian religion and its leaders were questioned by the youth culture for their support of, or failure to address, certain evils in the world that were as plain as the nose on the faces of that younger generation. This is undoubtedly one reason why the satanic imagery did find some footing as a symbol of the rebellion against organized religion and its sordid history with bloody wars, torture, slavery, terrorism of minorities, thievery, and other abuses.

Some of the youth counterculture arising in the 60s naively believed that organized religions from the East could solve these problems. And this opened up a huge door for exploring other philosophies and religions. While challenging popular Christian mores, these youths by and large strove to hold themselves to higher standards, trying to follow the noble tenets of Jesus in regards to how to treat and respect one’s fellow man. And they mostly understood that in Jesus’ own teaching, the greater sin is to not love one’s fellow man, as opposed to rigidly adhering to the ever-changing expectations of “respectable” society (for example, the expectation that men should not have long hair). So, in a sense, they were looking for a more meaningful Christianity–one that was more understanding and compassionate, as it was intended. They were also clearly looking for one that could appreciate people from other cultures on their own terms, with an understanding of why they saw the world the way they did. A logical conclusion was drawn: to defend Jesus and the type of world he envisioned–which was indeed the type of world the central figures of a number of other religions also envisioned—meant that one had to get up in the face of those who misrepresent and abuse, and challenge them.

When Marilyn Manson would later rip up Bibles in his concerts, he would do it to express a view about people who use the Bible as a weapon to abuse other people. And it was actually a character he was portraying that was doing the ripping, to express something about the story he was telling (which is an allegory that deals with how mankind considers itself to be godlike while largely feigning to obey a god that they mostly use for their own purposes; and how the religion of celebrity is rotting away at what little dignity we have left, and is sucking more and more of our attention away from spiritual pursuits and what really matters in life). Of course, there’s an element of shock in it too, that helped propel the band further into the limelight, but it wasn’t what many people have taken it for—the face-value, misconstrued view that the band hates Jesus and wants people to do the opposite of what Jesus taught, which is not true at all. And despite the fact that the band’s leader has made this crystal clear in interviews and statements, the misconstrued view is still used by many people to cast them incorrectly as something they are not.

Now, that’s certainly a risk for such an artist, and ripping up Bibles is not a choice that I would personally have made, or something that I would have recommended or participated in, but I can understand why he did it. And I think that those who object to it can still hold two simultaneous thoughts in their mind—to object to a misuse of their printed scripture, and symbol of their holy religion, while also understanding objectively what the artist was trying to express.

Now, circling back to the question of how some rock music explores other philosophies and religions–of course, if that’s your beef, you’re going to find ample examples to support your concern. The music of the late-60s and early-70s was especially inspired by Eastern philosophies and alternative views of Western philosophies, including some interest in the occult. This is a springboard for a lengthy theological discussion that far exceeds the scope of this article, and that in itself should garner some respectability for rock music amongst those who dismiss it as trivial or mindless. I would also point out here that it is quite odd that some people find it perfectly acceptable to embrace Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, the Beatles, and others, but have strong objections to other bands that simply have an image that appears from the outside to be counter to Christian culture. Some of the artists in the latter category are actually far less of a “promoting” force, if you will, for alternative philosophies than some of these classic-rock era artists were.

I hate to burst anyone’s bubble, but Jimmy Page was very much into the occult, and on top of integrating occult imagery into the band’s artwork, he purchased the old home of Aliester Crowley (called Boleskine, in Scotland), where Crowley reputedly “mystically received” his primary writings about the occult. Some Led Zeppelin song-writing and recording was actually done at the house, and a sequence from their film The Song Remains the Same was filmed there. Jimi Hendrix, in making the blues not only up to date but shooting it way into the future, fully embraced the longstanding blues tradition of talking about voodoo. And the Beatles, like a host of other 60s musicians, talked about, and were well familiar with, the Tibetan Book of the Dead, as updated for the modern age.

Now, personally, I think dabbling in the occult is serious business and shouldn’t be taken lightly, and a fair amount of the musicians of that time who did dabble have offered their own words of caution. I’m not trying to condemn or cast any of these musicians in a bad light, but I point it out for a matter of perspective, and to demonstrate that with some artists we seem to have a capacity to take the good out from them and not worry much about things about them we consider bad, but yet with other artists who have not spoken directly to us in our experience, we are more likely to take the things about them we view as bad and let them form blanket prejudices against them.

Another important aspect of this discussion that we come to here is the issue of following musicians as leaders, and the fear that parents have had that their children will try to follow in the footsteps of their favorite rock stars, with their interests in Eastern philosophies, the occult, or whatever, and their abuses of alcohol and drugs. How many deaths from overdose or alcohol-related accidents have their been now? Far too many to count–for the last 40 years. So, in some instances, it’s not only the current generation of parents that have these fears, but their own parents, and even some of their own parents’ parents. It’s by no means something new, but by and large, we managed to survive the dangers.

As much as some like to single out musicians, and even filmmakers, as people who are dragging society down, they are more often than not clever handlers of mirrors, showing us what we are and what we are becoming. So, there’s a bit of killing the messenger that goes on in the criticisms and attacks against some of our musicians.

If anything, I’ve found that the most respected “leaders,” as you might call them, of rock musicians have been those who told their fans “Don’t look to me for answers, think for yourselves. I’m just relating through my music some of the questions that have plagued my mind, and I can feel how some of those questions may resonate with you.” Yet still, no one can prevent anyone from being thick-headed. So, it’s like the Monty Python character in the Life of Brian movie, this accidental Messiah, who stands up before the crowd and tells them “Don’t expect me to give you the answers, you’ve got to think for yourselves,” and then the crowd mindlessly repeats “We’ve got to think for ourselves,” obviously missing the point, saying the right words but not even considering what those words actually mean, and not ready to even make the first step in taking responsibility for themselves and coming to terms with the big question of what is “the meaning of life.” You can lead a horse to water . . .

Now, in contrast to this, there are actual bands out there who truly try to incorporate the black mass or actual satanic rituals into their music. There is some blatant proselytizing going on with them. I think this is mostly relegated to those who are connecting Satan to old pagan rituals, as opposed to those who actually worship the Biblical Satan in order to gain some temporary power in this world at the expense of harming others, and to the express destruction of their spiritual life (although, we must recognize that there are some people in the world who actually do this). But, regardless, I can understand how this is a true concern for many people. Whether these are conscious attempts to promote satanic ritual, or a gratuitous latching onto something for personal gain, there is certainly room for concern about the harmful consequences of this. So, notwithstanding all the previous disclaimers and calls for deeper understanding, I’m not going to discount the possibility that some may be taking it too far and are actually putting forth a product that generally gives no benefit, and which may be harmful.

So while some parents and organizations like the PMRC have gone overboard at various times with calls for censorship, boycotts, and whatnot, an important point, I think, was missed by many. Instead of engaging in this senseless black and white arguing over whether something is bad or harmless, we missed out on opportunities to form more balanced perspectives. And that is–that just as certain video media and games may not be appropriate for young ears, so too certain music may not be. And although with film and television, we learn from an early age how to recognize “good guys” and “bad guys,” and that the bad guys are at least supposed to get some type of severe consequences for their actions, younger kids may not yet have the intellectual sophistication to understand that music also portrays various characters, and they will undoubtedly be more prone to misconstruing things that they hear.

With older kids, engaging in dialogue with them is probably the best way to deal with that risk, because much of the music is omnipresent anyway, and some of the stuff they’re interested in that we might find questionable may actually be far more engaging and intellectually stimulating for them than the mindless hedonism, sex, and self-aggrandizement that is all too pervasive in the offerings of our current crop of pop music stars. So, the danger of being hypocritical with our kids, or signaling that we don’t care enough to try to understand the reality, may be far more worse than any imagined influence of the music or artist images themselves that we are initially shocked by.

The PMRC did successfully implement a warning label system, intended to be similar to a film rating system (objected to by artists as far ranging as John Denver and Frank Zappa), but it failed horribly. The warning label debacle is quite ironic, to my mind, in that unlike with film and tv, most kids only become interested and exposed to this music we fear when they become teenagers anyway. The warning labels earned by some bands were intentional and became something they specifically strove to attain (since the kids perceived it as a credential). In the process, some parents missed out on the opportunities to engage in dialogues with their kids because they relied on an arbitrary system to tell them what was good and bad. By now, we’ve become numb to the labelling and it virtually has no meaning, as some of the most popular middle-of-the-road type pop artists get the “explicit content” label, and our elementary-school-age kids gleefully dance to their music.

I mentioned out the outset that perhaps some music is intrinsically disturbing due to the nature of its sounds. Music therapy applies certain music in a clinical fashion to help people. Can other music harm people? We know that heavy metal, and loud, aggressive music has been used as part of “enhanced interrogation techniques” to antagonize people. AC/DC was supposedly blasted at Manuel Noriega to get him to come out from hiding during the U.S. invasion of Panama. Well, of course, loud, pounding music that keeps you from resting or sleeping is going to be super-irritating. But like with the Chinese water-torture, you could put on just about any song, even an easy listening or soft-rock song, and play it over and over again and it will eventually become torturous.

But as for some intrinsic quality in the music, it’s obvious that some music is sedative and other music is stimulative, even different sections of the same music. Beethoven and the Romantic period composers were criticized by some for being too passionate. The music was not refined and restrained, like Mozart, but was all over the place, and the intense emotions were the calling card. Listening to the 1st movement of Beethoven’s 5th Symphony all day will almost certainly make someone more agitated than before. And this, I think, gives us our clue. Music expresses all kinds of emotions. Emotions are natural, and composers and musicians who, with honest intentions, express various emotions tend to catch our ear and our interest. But whether certain music can actually be bad for us seems to be subjective and depends on not just how one particularly responds to such music but how much one blends with it. Certainly, some music is extremely aggressive, and assaults our ears. Listening to music with negative energy, however, can actually be a good way for us to release our own negative energy, just the way listening to a sad love song might console us when we are sad ourselves. And whereas older folks may have listened to the Who’s Quadrophenia, while raging at the world, today’s kids are doing the same thing to other music.

But too much of the same thing may eventually produce some harm.  Or, to be more precise, it may serve as an exacerbating influence to a problem that already exists. I wrote in my book A Big History of Music that “It seems to me that somewhere in each of us there is an invisible line between blowing off steam and establishing a foundation for a long-term, destructive mental state.” The powerful emotions that Beethoven communicated 200 years ago may actually be even more intense than some of the pounding rock music of today. So, there is no simple answer, unfortunately. But I find Victor Wooten’s views, as expressed in his book The Music Lesson, very instructive, in that when we listen to music we inevitably blend with the artist to some extent, and blend with the music, and so we need to make sure we have enough of our own positive energy to balance out any of the negative energy that we take in. The fact is, we have to do this with film and television media as well.

People who enjoy a variety of music might have the least worry about such things, because their tastes are naturally creating some sort of emotional balance at the input level. But, don’t forget, perfectly adjusted and balanced kids may enjoy listening to screamo metal, and completely disturbed, violent kids may enjoy listening to other pop music that seems perfectly benign. The music they listen to might be a reflection of what they’re already going through internally–which is why it speaks to them and they gravitate towards it in the first place–or, it might say nothing about them. Maybe it’s just wallpaper or an accessory to them. MUZAK for teenage life.

So, parents talk to your kids. Kids, talk to your parents. And musicians, hang in their. Don’t be gratuitous, but keep trying to express your vision, and keep searching, because it’s the people who do the searching who we’re usually most interested in hearing from.

If this article raises more questions than it answers, then it’s done a good job—because that’s just the nature of the subject, and that’s the nature of good music. From its very beginnings, music has always been a primary tool for helping us understand the world and our place in it, and to deal with the energies and forces that we can’t see. Music itself is an unseen energy. Energy can do lots of different things. We all have to keep deciding what we are going to do with the energy around us and what energy we are going to put out from within us. Good music challenges us in this process, and the process can be scary at times, as we look at who we are, how we got here, why we are here, and where we are going. It can be fraught with uncertainty. But it’s very rewarding, and certainly better than sleepwalking through life.

So, yes, the devil is in the details–sometimes literally. But in many works of art, from Milton to William Blake to Black Sabbath, it is the overriding concern with what is good and what is evil, and what is the human condition, which is being brought forward. And so long as we are human, we can appreciate these works for how they speak to us–or, at the very least, how they speak to others.

The Transcendent Legacy of Chris Squire

The great modern composer Karlheinz Stockhausen wrote and lectured extensively on what he felt was the duty of all musicians (and indeed, what has been deemed an essential duty of musicians throughout many cultures and over many thousands of years): to be transmitters who turn the cosmic energy that underlies all creation and consciousness into the audible tones and rhythms that we now call music. “One is only secondarily a musician, a specialist, a human being with a profession,” he wrote. “One is primarily an individual spirit that must first establish contact with the universal spirit before communicating anything essential to other spirits, going beyond what is individual and to some extent involving every other spirit.”

When we think of the short list of popular rock musicians who have understood and striven to achieve this lofty goal, the late Chris Squire immediately comes to mind as one who not only tried, but achieved great success at it.

In such a nod to Chris we must also, of course, recognize the other leading figures of the Yes brotherhood, especially Jon Anderson and Steve Howe. There is no doubt that Jon especially played a key role as a Yes songwriter, especially in the lyrical and thematic content of the band’s central repertoire. Steve was obviously a core songwriter as well. In this tribute to Chris, I want to put the focus not on the minutiae of who wrote what music or words for this or that section of this or that song, but rather shine a light on him as a vital component to the overall production of the entire body of music—works that hold great significance, both in the time of their creation and in the overall scope of history.

We know clearly that Chris’ contributions consisted of various chord progressions, melodies, thematic ideas, lyrical bits, innovative harmonies, expressive bass counter-melodies, intriguing chord inversion choices, and production concepts. We can easily point out the significance of his style of bass playing, his ground-breaking bass tones, and even his accomplishments as one of the great harmony vocalists. All these achievements are widely covered in the many well-deserved accolades that have been laid at his feet since his recent passing. But let us dig deeper. Let us give some thought to the very heart of the matter: what fueled the motivation, the inspiration, and the dedication in Chris to serve such an indispensable role in the communion of souls that produced this treasure trove of musical work.

A strong spirit of rebellion was certainly there, but it was a very specific type of rebellion which insisted that one should be true to one’s self. That is a big part of what made Yes one of the ultimate rock bands—because they rebelled against the very idea that rock music had to be a certain way, that it was supposed to be something different from what their vision and inspiration dictated of them at the moment. After all, if rock music did not have such freedom, then what would it become other than a caricature of its former self, a restrictive medium with a new dogmatic set of rules?

It truly boggles the mind to listen to certain critics and naysayers who prefer to not understand this, and who attempt to reduce the band to a mere experiment in wedding “authentic” rock ‘n’ roll with boring, high-browed classical music. There’s hardly a reason to even respond to such nonsense, but it does warrant pointing out that through this stance these critics have tried to turn the old rebellion into a new establishment that must be rigidly defended. The irony of the phrase Meet the new boss, same as the old boss was obviously lost on them long ago.

But there’s yet something deeper always going on in Yes than just the creation of innovative, kick-ass rock music. The rebellion did not limit itself to chords, notes, song structures, and instrumentation. In my mind, it was no less than the transformation of rock music from a mere rebellion against outdated social mores and political restraints to a sophisticated rebellion against spiritual isolation, the darkness of the stagnant mind, and philosophical apathy. It was a bold move to not just speak of the universal light, but to reach out to it, become a conduit for it, and try to hold onto it so that it could shine on others. The spirit of Yes was to create music that was itself a current of cosmic electricity transposed into sound, and as difficult and trying as it was at times to accomplish the work, there was an unmistakable joy of participating in that process which always came through and infected the open-minded listener.

If you’re thinking this is all just flowery language and metaphor, think again. Forget the standard line found in much of the commentary on the thematic content of Yes’s music—that it is merely a pastiche of ornate, beautiful, mind-expanding imagery. This is a band that created a double-studio concept album based on specific spiritual concepts used in the pursuit of self-realization (Tales of Topographic Oceans—it’s all there in the liner notes). When the lyrics were not an obvious on-the-nose discussion of spiritual matters, they were more often than not tales serving as analogies to the inner struggle and quest to perceive and live in the divine. Jon directly tells us as much in the Anderson Bruford Wakeman Howe song “Quartet,” in which he refers to various songs from the Yes catalog, including “Long Distance Runaround,” “The South Side of the Sky,” “The Gates of Delirium,” and “Roundabout,” attesting to the fact that they were all about awakening a belief in, and awareness of, God—a very personal God—and attaining the universal consciousness divine.

Jon has expounded much further in numerous interviews, such as with Carl Wiser of Songfacts, in which he explained that he had made a concerted effort to deal with spiritual concepts through imagery and metaphor, so that he could talk about everything from the underyling unity of life to the solace of guardian angels without being specific and speaking in a pedestrian, non-poetic way. Need we say any more?

We must keep in mind here, that it was only with the right underlying music that these celestial concepts could be delivered properly, as a unified whole. Indeed, from one perspective, the specific words of the lyrics in Yes songs exist to make further manifest the energy and feeling of the underlying music. The two go hand-in-hand and are inseparable.

Thus, we inevitably come to the conclusion that Chris’ prominent role in creating this music makes him one of the great esoteric musical minds of our time. He was one who understood and regarded music as something far more than a mere vehicle for providing entertainment. As it has been over many ages of man, and across cultures throughout the world, music was a means for breaking down barriers to interpersonal fellowship, and for breaking down barriers to understanding and perceiving the true reality of our existence—the reality of a consciousness and energy that transcends the world of atoms.

Godspeed, Chris. We will surely miss you, but your gifts will always be with us. They will continue to brighten our days. And they will continue to remind us to keep looking beyond the veil, because the transcendent reality is out there, just waiting for us to acknowledge and perceive it.

 

Yes, Progressive Rock Should be Emphasized in the Common Core!

Many of us are already on the same page regarding the idea that all children should be given a basic education in music as a core component of the liberal arts curriculum, and that such should be started at a young age. (AHUM’s position on this matter—drawn from a host of recognized authorities—can be explored in further detail here, here, and here.) Children should be taught the basics of where music came from, how it influenced the development of prehistoric and ancient culture, how Medieval European church music developed into classical music, how European and African folk music came together in varying degrees in America to yield a wide variety of popular music over the last 100+ years, and how an appreciation for various musics of the world has greatly impacted (and continues to do so today) both the “serious” and popular music that came from these European and American traditions. (This on top of actually engaging the children in playing musical instruments, learning to read music, etc.)* But what if I was to say that when it comes to studying Western popular music we should ensure that this musical curriculum places a particular emphasis on progressive rock? After all, that’s just one niche genre among many, right? Why should a special weight be placed on the music of Yes, Pink Floyd, the Moody Blues, Jethro Tull, King Crimson, Kate Bush, Genesis, and Emerson, Lake & Palmer?

By way of disclosure I should admit one thing right off the bat: I really like progressive rock. Have for a long time. Some of my neighbors over time have become painfully aware of this, such as during college when someone from a neighboring apartment (not a student, mind you) felt the need to have the local police come and ask me to turn down ELP’s Tarkus at 2:30 in the morning just because it was playing on my stereo at a volume as close to that of a live show as it could muster. It’s no big secret, really, that a lot of my favorite rock music is from this genre that enjoyed its heyday from the early to late 1970s. So, admittedly, I have to be somewhat cautious to not let my personal bias interfere with my objectivity. But after a number of years of writing about music and formulating thoughts on the “big picture” role of music throughout the entire course of human development, I hope that by now I can speak about progressive rock at least as objectively as I would about the significance of the music of, say, Chopin or any other great musical innovator whose music I have been especially enamored with.

Progressive rock began as an outgrowth of the increasingly imaginative and sometimes experimental popular music of the late 1960s, such as The Beatles’ albums Revolver and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, The Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds, Pink Floyd’s Piper at the Gates of Dawn, The Moody Blues’ Days of Future Past, Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention’s Freak Out!, and the Velvet Underground’s The Velvet Underground & Nico. These were quickly followed up by offerings from Traffic, Cream, Jeff Beck, The Nice, Soft Machine, and other groups seeking to widen the scope of rock music by incorporating elements from a wide variety of 20th century genres, including jazz, symphonic, minimalist, and experimental electronic. By the early ’70s a number of bands were strictly dedicated to testing the boundaries of what a rock band could be, rebelling against any notions of limitation that the rock tradition had already begun to settle down into, and a distinctive genre was born—sometimes called “art rock” but more commonly referred to as “progressive rock.” The creative drive had proliferated so far that it did not even seem unusual in 1973 to find the singer/songwriter Elton John put an 11+ minute opening song (“Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding”)—which boasted an extensive instrumental introduction teeming with synthesizers churning out classical music chord progressions—as the opening cut of an album (Goodbye Yellow Brick Road). Neither did it seem unusual that such a great song would be played in its entirety on the radio despite the fact that it almost reached the running time of 4 typical songs combined.

To fully understand and appreciate progressive rock, or any musical movement for that matter, we should look at the elements that contributed to its genesis. Any new genre in music can be shown to have its roots in a combination of prior musical efforts. Sometimes these influences even show up in that genre’s name, such as how rockabilly described a mix of early rock ‘n roll and hillbilly music. Jazz, which is perhaps the greatest of all American musical products, has been described by many as a “gumbo” of ragtime, the blues, marching bands, and foreign influences from Africa and the Caribbean. The birth of jazz certainly represents one of the great musical intersections of the 20th century—it was a place where numerous roads converged to form a new “musical town square,” so to speak, and a multitude of new paths also branched off from there, beckoning the traveler to explore the adventures they had to offer.

Through the Creoles of New Orleans—who played a central role in creating jazz—and their education in, and love for, classical music, a classical European influence would even play a subtle role in the creation and development of jazz. But where classical music had its greatest impact on jazz was with its 2nd generation innovators, those who laid out the framework for how jazz would progress (please note that word) beyond its Dixieland/”hot music” early life into works of fascinating depth and color. Duke Ellington and Bix Beiderbeck, and then later Charlie Parker and Thelonius Monk, are just some of the examples of jazz greats who were very much influenced by the rather contemporary developments in classical music—Debussy, Ravel, and Stravinsky were among the composers they admired and sought to learn from in order to push the boundaries of jazz far beyond anything previously conceived. They were certainly criticized for this by some jazz traditionalists, but thankfully it did not deter them. Likewise, George Gershwin, who often seemed to work in the classical idiom while incorporating signature elements of jazz, is widely revered today, although panned by some in his day as having only one foot on the boat (whether it was the classical music boat or the jazz boat). History tells a different tale, of course: the real issue was that the Gershwin critics missed the boat altogether.

This history is very useful in giving us a good perspective on the development of rock ‘n roll as well. Starting out as a mix of jump blues, boogie woogie, harmonized street corner singing, deep blues, and R&B (especially the “big bass” New Orleans sound of Fats Domino and others), and epitomized by the raucous, rebellious attitudes of Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Elvis, and Jerry Lee Lewis, rock music would also greatly benefit from subsequent innovations. In fact, rock was arguably saved from the late ‘50s/early ‘60s doldrums of the teen idols and other corporate patronizing through the daring efforts of such notables as Buddy Holly, Berry Gordy (and his Motown empire), Roy Orbison, and Phil Spector—each of whom were not only great songwriters but also great visionaries who helped establish a grander sonic palette for Western popular music to make use of.

Then along came The Beatles, whose early music reflected a “connection to the whole history of rock & roll up to that time,”[i] as Lester Bangs once wrote. The creative drive of these four lads from Liverpool was awe-inspiring to many musicians of all levels of accomplishment; from Leonard Bernstein to Bob Dylan, everyone talked about how their chord progressions were like a breath of invigoratingly fresh air. Far from inducing complacency, this praise for their early music only served to make them more determined to explore new territory and make each new album—indeed, each new single—a spectacular new adventure for all. Intent on following this progressive approach, they began to draw from a host of older music traditions (such as folk, jazz, show tunes, ukulele groups, etc.) as well as from their direct contemporaries (Bob Dylan, the Who, the Stax sound of Memphis, etc.) to create what arguably remains as the most diverse output of music from any popular performing artists ever (and certainly within the limited time frame of their 7 year period of work together).

Thus, it was only natural that the great creative minds who came up in the immediate wake of The Beatles would push the envelope even further and approach their work with a free spirit and a rejection of any notion of conventional boundaries. This was the fertile ground from which sprang progressive rock. It was the environment that encouraged the Moody Blues to pursue their mysterious candlelit ambiance of mellotron strings, finger-picked acoustic guitars, exotic instruments, and vocal harmonies reaching up to the heavens. It was the field in which King Crimson could safely attack the modern psyche, questioning its validity through the harsh harmonies of the 20th century classical music innovators played on distorted electric guitars, and with periodic outbursts of incendiary modern jazz. It was the milieu into which the standard of the guitar-centered rock band could be defiantly challenged by a keyboard-centered band—Emerson, Lake & Palmer—which featured a furiously percussive organ sound at its core, a host of iconic synthesizer timbres that we simply take for granted today, and an embrace of harmonic innovations literally unheard outside of their original classical music sources (Bartok, Janacek, Scriabin, Copland, etc.). It was a seemingly limitless space in which Yes could take you to the outer reaches of the universe with new musical colors as vivid and compelling to the rock band idiom as the innovations of Berlioz and Strauss had been to orchestral music; concerned with the other-worldly, and seeming to transform light waves into sound, they yet still ground out some of the sharpest, grittiest, and technically coordinated rock music ever created. There was even a sense of timelessness so broad that we could be taken back to ancient mythology, up through the Renaissance, the Enlightenment, and the Victorian era, and then finally meet up with the current moment on a journey hosted by that symphonic-choral/spettacolo-teatrale powerhouse known as Genesis.

As impressive as this list of accomplishments is, however, it merely scratches the surface. By digging only a tiny bit deeper we see rich veins in every direction. The relatively contemporary innovations of the minimalist composers La Monte Young, Terry Riley, Steve Reich, and Philip Glass were incorporated by The Velvet Underground (members John Cale and Angus MacLise were former players in Young’s “Theatre of Eternal Music”), the Who (their “Baba O’Reilly” was a nod to Terry Riley for his influence on Who’s Next), Robert Fripp of King Crimson (whose signature “tape loops” were a Riley invention), Brian Eno (who has pointed to Reich as a primary influence and even participated while a student in the performance of a La Monte Young piece, something he considered “a cornerstone of everything I’ve done since”[ii]), Peter Gabriel (who started showing a recognizable appreciation of Reich with his 3rd solo album and the song “No Self Control”), and David Bowie (who, along with Eno, was particularly smitten by the work of Glass). Grateful Dead members Phil Lesh (bass) and Tom Constanten (electronics wizardry) were associates with Reich when they were all students, and both studied composition with Luciano Berio. Constanten even studied with Karlheinz Stockhausen.

The experimental musical creations of John Cage, and his radical approach to music, were hugely influential on many leading rock musicians (and indeed also the above-mentioned minimalists themselves), including Lou Reed, Frank Zappa, and (of more recent note) Radiohead (truly, a progressive rock band of the 21st century). Zappa pointed to the “father of electronic music,” Edgard Varese, as his primary influence as a young musician. The downstream effects of fellow electronic music pioneers Vladimir Ussachevsky and Otto Luening came through when the synthesizer work of their student Wendy (born Walter) Carlos set Keith Emerson’s ear on fire and led to his prominent use of the Moog synthesizer in the newly-formed band ELP.

These were indeed great times of interweaving musical genres, and while the progressive rock bands were not the sole prophets espousing the need and validity of this wide embrace, they undoubtedly played the leading role in bringing the classical music tradition—all the way up to the works of its most recent controversial artists—into the fold. What’s more, the spirit of progressive rock could be felt all over. Hell, even some of the distinctive characteristics of the seminal heavy metal band Black Sabbath, from their beginnings in 1970, are consistent with the approach of progressive rock, such as their large-scale, suite-like song structures and calculated use of unusual harmonies and dissonances. For alternate approaches coming from another direction, look no further than Miles Davis, who (inspired by the likes of Led Zeppelin and Sly and the Family Stone) gave us jazz-fusion/jazz-rock right at the dawn of the progressive rock era. After Davis’ opening gambit with Bitches Brew, Mahavishnu Orchestra, Chick Corea’s band Return to Forever, Herbie Hancock, and Weather Report (a set of artists largely comprised of various former Davis band members and associates) would feel emboldened enough to take up the mantle and go create a diverse output of tantalizing jazz/rock hybrids, bringing to full circle the ongoing efforts of Soft Machine, Zappa, ELP, and others to merge rock with modern jazz. Further along these lines, we can even point to the incredibly gifted Stevie Wonder, who put an entirely new spin on Motown and soul music by blending it with funk, jazz, pop, rock, and a dash of Latin influence—not coincidentally, at the very same time of this creative explosion.

This spirit of musical exploration didn’t just suddenly grind to halt—it continued to flow in numerous directions. It continued to progress and find new avenues of expression. During the 1980s, this was particularly evident in the Columbus-like “discovery” of great music from around the world that had existed for years but which had escaped the attention of Western popular culture, and in the way elements from these various musical traditions were more fully integrated into our own. The list of artists who reflected these changes is extensive, although a short list would likely include the Talking Heads, Paul Simon, and Peter Gabriel. Gabriel, who had already earned a bona fide progressive-rock-god status as a founding member and primary creative force behind the early work of Genesis, leveraged his emerging career as a cutting-edge solo artist to help promote music of the world by helping to found WOMAD (World of Music, Arts and Dance) and establishing the recording label Real World Music. What’s more, his innovative work in music video was also highly influential—an inventive approach to visuals that can be traced back to his introduction of theatrical elements into early Genesis concerts.

The reverberations of progressive rock can also be heard in the music of a host of non-progressive-rock artists. When Eddie Van Halen became famous for his arpeggiated distorted guitar finger-tapping-on-the-fretboard work, those in the know smiled in recognition that Steve Hackett of Genesis had been doing that years before. When we encountered unusual time signatures in various songs from artists like Bjork, Black Flag, Nine Inch Nails, Muse, and the so-called “math rock” bands (like Slint, Chavez, Don Caballero, and Ruins), the progressive rock influences were quite apparent, if not openly acknowledged. And when Rihanna used the ascending portamento synthesizer in “We Found Love (In a Hopeless Place),” some of us undoubtedly turned to our kids and explained how that’s just a modified version of the end of ELP’s Karn Evil 9, 1st Impression, Part II (i.e., the Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends . . . part). In fact, one would be hard pressed to find any techno or synthesizer-based dance music that doesn’t show a striking reflection of Keith Emerson, Rick Wakeman, Richard Wright, Tony Banks, Jean Michel Jarre, Larry Fast, and the other synthesizer masters of progressive rock.

During its prime years, progressive rock was actually quite popular, and when the core progressive rock artists began to turn their attention towards a more widely accessible style, mostly in the 80s and 90s, they would achieve various moments of fantastic commercial success, while consistently continuing to offer innovative arrangements and production values. Yes’ 90125, produced by Trevor Horn (who, along with Geoff Downes, had joined the ever-evolving Yes family for its first 1980s release Drama) and energized by new guitarist Trevor Rabin, was a huge hit, with “Owner of a Lonely Heart” among the tracks that would set the music world abuzz with new ideas. Genesis drummer Phil Collins used the new, powerful, reverse-gated drum sound he had developed with Hugh Padgham and Peter Gabriel while working on Peter Gabriel III (“Intruder”) to establish himself as a major new solo artist with “In the Air Tonight”—and it was a drum sound that would soon after be heard far and wide in popular music. (Simultaneously, he was helping propel the remaining members of Genesis to new heights, singing and drumming on hit after hit.) Surpassing common expectations, the “supergroup” ASIA, comprised of keyboardist Geoff Downes (the Buggles), drummer Carl Palmer (ELP), bassist and vocalist John Wetton (King Crimson, UK) and guitarist Steve Howe (Yes), saw their first release—a decidedly “album-oriented-rock” offering with distinctive progressive elements—stay at the top of the U.S. charts for 9 weeks, a remarkable feat for a quartet of progressive rock heavy-hitters. And, of course, Pink Floyd’s The Wall was an incredibly popular large-scale concept album (in the tradition of The Who’s Tommy and Quadrophenia), that would mark a fitting end to the close collaborative efforts of the classic Pink Floyd lineup, a partnership that had earlier changed our whole conception of what a studio album could be with their The Dark Side of the Moon (which, it should be pointed out, remains by far the longest top-100-charting-album from any genre ever).

I realize that for some readers out there, this is all “preaching to the choir” stuff, for it is truly impossible to tell a comprehensive narrative of the progress and innovations in rock music without making numerous references to the founders and progenitors of progressive rock. Perhaps my passion would not be so strong if there was already a general understanding and appreciation. But I find that a concerted effort is still needed to educate about progressive rock, especially considering that numerous critics and rock historians have gone out of their way to minimize the successes, influence, and significance of the music and the musicians. Some of these writers have banded together in a “piling on” of mutual disdain, casting the musicians in a cloak of pretention and self-gratuity, hoping that by reducing them to these accusatory terms, and vehemently hurling them at the public a sufficient number of times, the claims will stick. So, yes, I have felt the need to set the record straight. But this is far more than addressing a pet peeve. What we find in progressive rock is a major aspect of the story of music in modern times. When charting out the evolution of music in human culture, from the most primitive, distant times to today (as I have done in A Big History of Music), progressive rock inexorably shows itself to be central to the development of Western popular music. It unmistakably shines out as an historical focal point, or axis if you will, a rare thing in the overall story of music, but one which clearly shares much in common with other similar nodes of musical history.

Efforts today like the South Shore Symphony’s recent concert dedicated to the music of Keith Emerson, featuring a performance of his Piano Concerto No. 1 (played expertly by pianist Jeffrey Biegel) are encouraging, and hopefully point to a cultural shift in which the value of a retrospective appreciation of the progressive rock era will begin to take hold. Just as I am encouraged by all of the many organizations that have sprung up to help fill the void created by the pullback of music performance education programs in public schools, I am encouraged that our collective efforts to press for a general education about music for all students, and a greater cultural awareness about music in the general public, will also yield valuable, tangible results.

So, we’ll certainly teach our kids about Robert Johnson—and Muddy Waters, Lionel Hampton, Hank Williams, the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, and all the rest of them. What we won’t do, however, is teach the distorted, revisionist view which says that progressive rock was a bad experiment that went awry. Rather, we will showcase it as the dynamo it truly was in generating much of the progress of its time and of the music that followed.



[i] Lester Bangs, “The British Invasion,” from The Rolling Stone Illustrated History of Rock & Roll, p. 199.

ii Brian Eno, interview in Keyboard magazine, July, 1981

* Please note that this article is not intended to address the pros and cons from the current public debate regarding standardized minimum curriculum requirements, or regarding standardized testing. As with all of AHUM’s efforts, the intention is to increase the attention given to music from within the educational structures that currently exist.

Music Therapy – The Healing Qualities of Music

Over the course of the 20th century, an unexpected scientific validation of an ancient conception of music took place: we proved to ourselves that music can be utilized as an effective treatment for various physical and psychological ailments. Today, music therapy is recognized by many as a powerful tool in the arsenal of medical treatments, one with possibilities that have not come close yet to being fully explored or implemented.

Most all of us have practical experience that exposure to music can change our mood. Various musical pieces can make us feel emboldened and strong, tranquil and happy, or even agitated, depending on both the specific qualities of the music and the individual contexts in which we subconsciously place them. Our perceptions from hearing music today are impacted by associations we make from our past in which the same music was present, or simply due to the way our internal “wiring” uniquely responds to the rhythms, tempos, pitches, and other aspects of the music. However, there are also certain fundamental constants—qualities of music that generally affect all of us in the same way because we are all human and share the same DNA structure and psychological makeup, a constitution that was refined through evolution over many, many ages.

Examples of music therapy are found in ancient mythologies and religious texts. Until relatively recently (mostly in the last 200 years), its effects were attributed to magical or spiritual properties. This contributed to the general regard for music as an esoteric, spiritual power, such as in The Bible, where we see in I Samuel how Saul was calmed by the harp playing of David and the “evil spirit” left him. The 9th century Syrian Al-Farabi was an early proponent of seeking a deeper understanding of music’s potential as a physical and psychological therapy, but it was not until nearly a thousand years after him that a scientific approach began to be employed in the West to demystify music and determine the specific mechanisms at work in its healing qualities. The experimental use of music in various hospitals, and the scholarly and anecdotal writings of 19th century music therapy proponents, led philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche (who, during his early days as a classical studies professor, had been a close associate of composer Richard Wagner) to take a keen interest in music therapy treatments and music’s impact on the human nervous system. Finally, the overwhelming flood of wounded soldiers and civilians in World War II opened the door to widespread experimentation of this relatively cheap and readily available treatment, and as a result, music therapy began to become main stream when numerous patients showed positive physical responses in their vital signs as a result of strategic exposure to music (in addition to reduced symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder—what was termed “shell shock” at the time). Formal university programs for the study of music therapy were soon introduced and the National Association of Music Therapy was established, all by mid-century.

General knowledge about music therapy among the public has trailed along slowly. Some popular films and high profile cases in the news have helped. The 1990 film Awakenings, with Robin Williams and Robert DeNiro, portrayed how the now-renowned Dr. Oliver Sacks discovered that music could play an important role in engaging his post-encephalitic Parkinsonian patients with the external world. In the more recent films The King’s Speech and The Music Never Stopped, respectively, the stammering newly crowned King George VI is aided in overcoming his speech impediment by musicalizing his words and an amnesiac in the late 70s overcomes the devastating effects of brain tumor removal surgery through a music therapist’s program of listening to the music of the late 60s that held so much significance for him in his youth, prior to his near complete loss of memory. (The latter was based on the true story of one of Oliver Sacks’ own patients.)

The remarkable recovery of Arizona Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, who faced incredible difficulties in speech and language function following her gunshot wound to the left temple in 2011, is largely credited to the music therapy she received, which helped retrain the right side of her brain to take on important language related functions that are normally handled by the left hemisphere. “’She was able to sing a word before she could speak a word, and the damaged areas of her brain were circumvented through music,” relayed Concetta Tomaino, executive director of the Institute for Music and Neurologic Function.[i]’” ABC News aired a segment on this incredible story, which showed Giffords crying in frustration when unsuccessfully trying to speak, but then appearing joyful as she sung fluently. As Emily  Sohn of Discovery News wrote, this “paints a dramatic picture of the power of music to help people overcome brain injuries.”

These types of examples, however, provide only a small glimpse into the vast potential of music therapy. Michael De Georgia, director of the Center for Music and Medicine at Case Western Reserve University’s University Hospitals Case Medical Center in Cleveland commented (in relation to Giffords’ case) that “In the last 10 years, we’ve just started to understand how broad and diffuse the effect of music is on all parts of the brain . . . We are just starting to understand how powerful music can be. We don’t know what the limits are.”[ii] Since the brain is a central component of all healing, music’s ability to kick-start healing processes extend far beyond addressing the various neurological ailments for which it is most known. In fact, music is now regarded as one of a relatively few forms of therapy that have a broad range of applicability (such as nutritional and physical therapies), and often can accomplish what other therapies and pharmaceutical drugs cannot.

To understand what types of music might be good for therapeutic treatment or experimentation (and, conversely, to determine what to avoid), a basic understanding of how music impacts our minds and bodies is valuable. Daniel Schneck and Dorita S. Berger offer an excellent overview in their book The Music Effect, a scientific work that is yet still fairly easy to digest once one familiarizes oneself with the clinical terminology. In essence, we learn from them that

“Music therapy has as its goal the permanent re-setting of systemic operating parameters (set-points) and input/output transfer functions, in order to derive functionally adaptive responses that result from mechanisms of entrainment. Music used for clinical therapy involves not only an immediate, in-the-moment relief of a circumstance, but also the setting of long-term goals for inducing permanent changes in physiological and psychological functions that are being addressed by the intervention. In this respect, music used as therapy assumes a role not unlike other forms of clinical intervention for diagnosed populations.”[iii]

What this means is that the human body (along with other animals) has various internal settings that are designed to contribute to the optimal physical, emotional, and mental health of an individual, what we call the homeostatic environment, such as pulse rate, ph level, the amount of hormones, enzymes, etc., to secrete, as well the levels for triggering internal responses, whether for general maintenance (sleep cycle, cellular production, etc.) or to respond to a change in environment or circumstances (body sweat, adrenaline release, etc.). Each of these settings—the systemic operating parameters, or “set-points”)—have the potential to become disrupted due to excessive strain, which can be caused by environmental factors, inadequate diet, use of pharmaceuticals or organic drugs and herbs, consumption of artificial foods, improper (or lack of) physical activity, inadequate sleep, or psychological stress. The repetition of these “forcing functions” on our system cause some of these settings to change because our bodies are designed to adapt to try to best handle any new situation it has found itself in, especially when it is a less than ideal one. These adapted settings can become the new norm, but the adjustments often trigger new problems and side effects, thereby generating their own new forcing functions that put stress on other bodily systems. Each setting is like a knob on a giant machine, and if one knob gets stuck in the wrong place, it can cause other parts of the machine to malfunction, and those malfunctions create further undesirable changes to settings and other malfunctions.

The sound vibrations of music are uniquely able to address this because of music’s power of entrainment. I explain entrainment in my A Big History of Music as follows: “The human body has a natural propensity to react in synchrony with external forces, and any such process is known as entrainment. Entrainment can be outwardly obvious, as in the example of the unconscious tapping of the foot upon hearing a piece of music with a steady pulse, or less noticeable, such as a change in the internal emotional state brought on by a feeling aroused by a musical piece. Entrainment can occur far outside the scope of our ability to even observe with our senses. It can be as complex and subtle as the sympathetic vibration of an internal organ or tissue in response to specific musical vibrations, or changes to brain wave or neural cell activity in response to the melodic, harmonic, rhythmic, or emotional content of a musical work (or the combined simultaneous effect of all these elements). By applying music in a clinical fashion, repetitive entrainment activities can be initiated which produce desired changes in the way our bodies function on a regular basis, changes that can have long-lasting beneficial effects on the way we respond to various physical and psychological stimuli.”[iv] Musical sound waves act as new forcing functions to reverse the effects of prior harmful experiences and return them back to their optimal settings.

Indeed, it is not just musical sound waves but even sound waves outside of the range of the human hearing apparatus that can induce changes to our bodily systems and tissues, as is already widely applied in the growing medical uses of ultrasound therapies.

With so many of our current physical and psychological ailments arising from our hyperstimulating, psychologically stressful environments and lifestyles, it is readily apparent what sorts of music are best for restoring health. Alicia Ann Clair, Ph.D., writing for the Alzheimer’s Foundation of America, explains that “Typically, ‘stimulative music’ activates, while ‘sedative music’ quiets. Stimulative music, with percussive sounds and fairly quick tempos, tends to naturally promote movement, such as toe taps. . . . On the other hand, the characteristics of sedative music . . . include unaccented beats, no syncopation, slow tempos, and little percussive sound . . . ”[v] While stimulative music is helpful for those who tend to drift off and lose focus or engagement with the world—and indeed it can have a positive effect in stimulating thought processes in the brain–sedative music helps relieve agitation and stimulates the brain waves of rest and healing.

The entrainment reactions of our bodily systems to various musical qualities commonly results in striking chemical changes as well. Martial and aggressive music is a catalyst for the release norepinephrine, aka adrenaline—something that can certainly be useful if one is drowsy but must stay awake and alert, but which is to be avoided if seeking a restorative state. Relaxing music, on the other hand, releases serotonin, a vital key to mood regulation and brain function. Lively, upbeat music can act as an elixir for the delivery of dopamine and endorphins, which also play a central role in restoring us to our physical and psychological homeostatic environment—our ideal state of being.

Armed with this information, we can begin to make different musical choices throughout our day–including perhaps the choice to add music where there previously was none—and experience different, positive outcomes. We can also set aside time to specifically immerse ourselves in music that has some tailored, therapeutic value for us. What’s more, we can engage directly in creating music–whether we consider ourselves musicians or not–by playing instruments and singing more often. As with any other therapeutic treatment, professional counsel should be sought for any dysfunctional or abnormal conditions. You can find a music therapist in your area by sending an email inquiry to the American Music Therapy Association at findMT@musictherapy.org. One need not wait until an extreme condition exists, of course—as the AMTA states, music therapy is a powerful tool for promoting wellness, managing stress, alleviating pain, expressing feelings, enhancing memory, improving communication, and promoting physical rehabilitation. Indeed, many “clients” are ordinary individuals seeking a more balanced, fulfilled, and healthy life.

It is high time we embrace the science and treat music as a central component to our well-being. And as with all other aspects of our health, it is incumbent upon us to take a prominent role of personal responsibility in this. In this way, we can easily follow the axiom of the future: “Musician, heal thyself.”


[i] Anni Layne Rodgers, “Music: Sound Medicine for ADHD,” ADDitude magazine online (additudemag.com)

[ii] Emily Sohn, “How Music Helped Gabrielle Giffords Heal,” Discovery News.com, January 8, 2012

[iii] Daniel J. Schneck and Dorita S. Berger, The Music Effect, p. 136

[iv] Brad Raylius Daniel, A Big History of Music, p. 739

[v] Alicia Ann Clair, Ph.D., Education and Care, Alzheimer’s Foundation of America, http://www.alzfdn.org/EducationandCare/musictherapy.html

Music and the Inner Sounds of Silence – Harmonizing Lou Reed, Yehudi Menuhin, Terence McKenna, and Richard Wagner

In Lou Reed’s last interview, given on September 21, 2013, he related to film director Farida Khelfa his musical fascination with inner sounds. “There is a sound you hear in your head; it’s your nerves, or your blood running. It’s kind of amazing to hear that.” He also referred to the sound of our mother’s heartbeat as the first sound we all hear, and a powerful influence for the rhythm of our music. If you’re familiar with John Cage, or have read my book A Big History of Music, then you’ll recognize that Reed’s comments hearken back to the unorthodox composer’s experience in an anechoic studio—a room with no external sounds or echoes—and how that visit was a life-altering event for him due to his perception of these inner physiological sounds and his recognition of their significance to our subconscious mind and our concept of music. These inner sounds are also the typical sounds of common tinnitus, a condition in which they are simply amplified. They constantly play at one volume or another for all of us. They literally provide the background music to our lives. As such, they warrant serious consideration and beg for deeper inquiries. How exactly have they influenced our musical pursuits through time? And, for that matter, how have they influenced our spiritual lives (given that music and spiritual matters have been inexorably bound together in human development)?

The great violin virtuoso Yehudi Menuhin mused about the origins of music having some source in these inner sounds: “Music must have begun out of natural sounds impinging on our ears, and those to which we listen with our inner ear in silence.” Prominent composers have professed the inner sounds to be a source of creative impetus for their works. Leoš Janáček, when writing about the inspiration for his cantata Amarus, said, “I look down into my soul. Innumerable notes ring in my ears, in every octave; they have voices like small, faint telegraph bells. . . . This is the sound of silence.” Richard Wagner wrote about lying down after a long walk and drifting into a drowsy state in which the flowing music for the overture of his opera Das Rheingold appeared to him for the first time, not just in his imagination but in a vivid, multi-sensory experience. This incident was quite profound to him because, as he put it, “I then quickly realized my own nature; the stream of life was not to flow to me from without, but from within.”

The modern philosopher and polymath Terence McKenna was a proponent of this inner music—something that everyone can partake of. In a recorded lecture he went so far as to assert that “nothing is more exquisite than the interior music, and all music is obviously an effort to approximate this interior music.” We can appreciate this as a global statement about the forces that drive us to make music, and about music’s underlying purpose—clearly, he did not mean that all musicians and listeners are consciously engaged in the pursuit of realizing their own inner music. But since music has undoubtedly served a central role in our attempts to commune with the divine and discover our true selves, we should carefully consider not only how external “music does lead deeper into these visionary states” (and, I would add, this is especially true to the extent the external music is evocative of, or attunes one to, the inner music) but also how those visionary states themselves are largely comprised of one’s own internal music. Thus, as he put it, “if you can cast loose from exterior musical input [after perhaps using music to help you achieve greater awareness] this interior music will rise into perception and reward you for that.”

McKenna’s comments may seem strange to those who equate inner music with simply the imagination, but make no mistake: they are based on “sound” reasoning, direct experience, and a thorough understanding of humankind’s historical quest to understand its place in the universe. Coming from no apparent external source, the inner sounds have been regarded for many thousands of years as esoteric and mystical (and indeed, they still are by many), rather than the stuff of physiology. Thus, they were elevated to a holy status, just as Janáček in the above quote referred to them as residing deep in his “soul.” The inner sounds inevitably became the focus of silent meditation and were equated with the sound of spirit, or more specifically, the sound of the underlying cosmic vibration that supports and animates all of creation. They became the path and the goal of meditation. In the East, they were referred to as “Om” and regarded as one and the same as the non-material force of spirit.

Descriptions of the inner sounds abound in ancient literature, and there they are intimately connected with early religious thought and spiritual endeavors. As I wrote in A Big History of Music, “Inner sounds of meditation have been variously described in ancient works as sounding like a horn, flute, string, ocean, bee, or flute (among other sounds), and also a combination of all such sounds. The tradition of listening for this sound and meditating upon it has survived even up to modern times and is still widely practiced by a variety of religious groups, in both technologically simple and advanced, modern cultures. Many of these modern-day practitioners state that they also hear these ‘spiritual sounds,’ just as the ancients did.” Not surprisingly, these descriptions match the common sounds heard today by those who sit in silence, as well as those with symptoms of tinnitus.

Although listening to these sounds ultimately contributed to the creation of all kinds of imaginative worldviews and religious philosophies, the sounds themselves are not the result of a collective fanciful imagination—they are part of the common human experience. While it may be seen as ironic that we subsequently learned, through the aid of modern technology, of the existence of universal vibrations, at every level of creation—that periodic vibrations (i.e., musical tones) are ever present in the fabric of existence, even on a cosmological scale—it is quite astounding to come to the conclusion that it was the quiet reflection upon these inner sounds that originally opened the door to an intuitive understanding of this reality by primitive humans. Listening to the inner tones quieted the mind, which created the space needed to receive intuitive revelation.

Religions that refer to silencing the mind, whether for its own sake or to specifically help in hearing the voice of God, are far too numerous to mention and include all the primary ones known to us today. Listening to the inner physiological sounds is no doubt an inevitable consequence of following this advice, for what else does one hear when not consumed with listening to one’s own thoughts, when one is “still” and realizing the omnipresence of God? To some, the inner music is an invaluable tool for achieving that rest from the constant mental workings that block out higher input, whether one calls it intuition, the voice of angels, or the spirit of God. So, it is no wonder that some have gone so far as to regard this inner music as not merely a tool but as the actual goal.

External music, being a reflection of this internal music, is thus a reflection of the cosmic music. It contributes to our realization of the basic truths of our existence, including the musical vibrations of our own bodies. Yehudi Menuhin also touched on this point by saying “I believe profoundly that music helps keep us in touch with the entire vibrating world, and thereby centers us in our being.” It is a concept addressed in detail in the work of the German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer, who felt that music is the only art which is not representational of images of the world, but is in fact evocative of what he called the noumenon, the otherwise undetectable life force that supports and animates all of creation–the essence of everything. This is why, he believed, music speaks to us from the “utmost depths.”

Our musical heritage is far from devoid of references to these fantastic correlations. Wagner, an avid follower of Schopenhauer, would allude to them in his later works, such as in his opera Tristan and Isolde, which ends with the famous “Leibestod” (love death) of Isolde, who sings “In the heaving swell, in the resounding echoes, in the universal stream of the world-breath—to drown, to founder—unconscious—utmost rapture.” Numerous examples can also be found in modern, popular music, both in arrangements that are imitative of the inner sound as well as in song lyrics. The Moody Blues’ On the Threshold of a Dream opens and closes with a representation of the inner sounds, and their songs “The Word” and “Om” from In Search of the Lost Chord encapsulate the experience and its philosophical implications (from the popular Eastern religious paradigm). In The Doors’ “When the Music’s Over,” we get a swelling organ note from keyboardist Ray Manzarek to denote the inner sound, immediately following the descriptive lyrics “I want to hear the scream of the butterfly,“ sung by Jim Morrison. In that Doors classic, the inner musical stream is the “very gentle sound” that you hear “with your ear down to the ground“ (i.e., with careful attentiveness).

Understanding the inner sounds’ physiological nature should help us in both deconstructing various popular myths about them and in regarding them with greater scientific circumspection. While we continue to look to theologians, religious elders, and philosophers (and now, to a certain extent, quantum physicists) to help us make sense of that which lies beyond the reach of the external senses but is yet still within the scope of our awareness, we can now assign a greater role to psychologists, music therapists, neurologists, and even otolaryngologists to help us understand the intricacies of the physical mechanisms at work with the inner sounds, as well as their effect on us. It is not only external music which we should hold in high regard for its value in helping us move towards a more sacred consciousness, greater fellowship with our fellow humans and the world in which we live, and even in healing the body, mind, and spirit, but also internal music.

Armed with this information, we find there is much new light shed on the central question of why music is consistently regarded throughout human culture as a means of invoking a divine atmosphere and communing with the Creator. The particular qualities of the inner sounds’ tone and timbre may be regarded as evolutionary happenstance—a byproduct of the overall composition of human beings—but it is quite amazing that this oddity of nature has served as a primary catalyst for helping us recognize our interconnectedness with creation, as well as a platform for releasing our imagination towards the stars and an impetus for helping us craft an amazing type of audible art with far reaching powers. And we have much yet still to learn about music and life from listening to these inner tones and exploring their role in the development of music and religious thought.

American Composers Today

Being an American composer means being influenced not only by the great European composers of the past, but also by jazz, musical theater, film and world musics of our own time. Such influences can contribute to an enormous range of expression. But to master that range, a composer must escape from the kind of thinking typical of the mid 20th century, in which the act of composition was seen as an experiment in rebellion against tradition, with the goal of identifying one’s self with a distinct “personal style.”

While the music of a great composer may exhibit a recognizable personality, as is the case with such masters as Bach, Wagner or Stravinsky, it is difficult to pin down that personality in purely stylistic terms. Compare the B Minor Mass with the St. Matthew Passion or with any of the Brandenburg Concerti — or compare Parsifal with Tristan or Meistersinger — or compare Le Sacre with Firebird or Symphony of Psalms. In each case the composer’s personality and mastery are clearly recognizable, but the style and technical means are quite different. In each case, the composer is able to bring to bear exactly those compositional techniques and stylistic features that create the desired result. These composers did not try to gain their place in history by identifying themselves with a limited set of experimental stylistic practices. Instead, they focused on creating meaningful musical experiences by freely drawing on whatever techniques were available.

Unfortunately, the legacy of 20th-century experimentation has been to make the music-loving public extremely wary of ALL new music. They are more interested in safe masterpieces than in experiments. The same audience that eagerly embraces new theater, movies, literature and popular music now shuns new musical experiences in the concert hall — a fact reflected in the limited repertoire of symphony orchestras and opera companies. Although the era of musical innovation for its own sake seems now to have passed away quietly, serious composers of today face not only the challenge of harnessing and mastering the broad musical language itself, but also that of reaching out and building a receptive audience for their work — a task made even more difficult by lack of opportunity to establish a meaningful rapport with that audience.

The Internet offers opportunity to reach people outside the concert hall. Like many composers today, I have taken advantage of this by placing a great deal of my life’s work on my website (at www.jackmjarrett.com), and by self-publishing my works that are not currently available through commercial publishers. Through such supplemental exposure afforded by the digital age, we hope to increase appreciation and demand for music by new American composers that will result in more aggressive promotion and concert scheduling on the part of symphony orchestras and opera companies. We must work together— as educators, administrators, musicians, composers and the listening public—, if we are to create better opportunities to enjoy the works of the many talented composers currently producing engaging and satisfying music. By doing so, we just may revitalize our many performance organizations in the process.

From Chapter 1 of Musical Composition, a Guide for Young Composers, by Jack Jarrett

The Need for a Holistic Understanding of Music — Thoughts on the Founding of AHUM

Over the last 20 or so years we have seen a marked increase of interest and research in the subject of music by experts from a variety of non-musical fields—areas of study that have traditionally not been particularly concerned with music. Neurophysiology, evolutionary psychology, ethology, and a variety of other fields have been expanding their scope, little by little, to include the role of music in their developing paradigms. New fields have even arisen, such as evolutionary musicology, neuromusicology, and comparative musicology (which together are referred to as biomusicology), which are wholly dedicated to studying music’s extensive role through time in gradually producing the modern human. The use of music as a medical or psychological intervention—what we refer to as music therapy—has also grown in stature, with reserved skepticism giving way to an enthusiastic embrace of this promising and largely untapped approach to physical and psychological healing. Meanwhile, as we look further out into the distant reaches of the universe and further down into the workings of subatomic particles, we continue to find patterns of vibration and movement that constitute what we recognize as the basic components of music—nested vibrations at various regular, periodic rates.

All this zeal for achieving a broader understanding of music has been very enlivening and energizing. Many musicians, composers, music educators, and other specialists who work in the field of music have been keeping an eye on the progress of various lines of inquiry and research. However, a coordinated effort to pool this knowledge and begin integrating it into the story of our rich musical heritage has yet to coalesce. It was for the purpose of telling that large-scale, integrated story of music in human culture that I undertook the writing of A Big History of Music; and it is for the wider sharing of information across these various disciplines, to further refine our appreciation and awareness of music’s place in human life, and promote the dissemination of this knowledge through our educational systems that I have decided to launch this Association for the Holistic Understanding of Music.

It is my hope that these efforts will contribute to a meaningful improvement in the way our society values music and in the way it approaches education about music and its practice. We can’t afford to wait any longer as the generations continue to receive less and less exposure to knowledge about music. At a time when we should be expanding the scope of music and music-related subjects in our liberal arts education curriculums, to a level proportionate to music’s known importance throughout the entirety of human existence, we find that the focus on music in our educational systems is actually shrinking. So, the challenge before us is all the more difficult since we must both reverse a trend and push to new heights.

Just as music has bound families, tribes, cultures, and diverse nations together over the entire course of human evolution, let our desire to understand music, and to spread that understanding, unite us so that the whole of our efforts can be greater than the sum of its parts. Working together as a unified voice, and at times combining forces with other organizations that are also focused on music education, we can face these challenges. The rewards of success will be immeasurable—a radical revitalization of thought, art, and culture which will favorably impact innumerable lives. Please join us at whatever level of participation you can, and let’s work together to bring these badly needed changes into the world.

The Relationship of Music to the Emergence of Human Intellect

Music has the power to penetrate deeply into our consciousness. The ability of certain amnesiacs, and of people with various brain disorders which devastate memory, to nevertheless still be able to recall music and even perform it is no less than miraculous. We each have a subconsciously-managed inner jukebox that can bring vivid images to our minds of music we are familiar with, and our brains automatically create innumerable associations between our experiences in the world and this storehouse of music that we hold deep in our memory banks.

We have learned through developments in the field of neurophysiology that there are distinct processing modules in the brain that are dedicated only to handling musical information. While some modules also exist which have cross-functionality and handle the processing of information related to both music and language, it is fascinating to learn that with respect to certain features such as pitch recognition, which is an essential element of musical melody and speech prosody (which conveys contextual and emotional information for spoken language), the functionalities are actually dissociated in the brain. Although they outwardly appear to be similar, the human brain has evolved in such a way as to process pitch variance information related to music in completely separate modules of the brain than the pitch variances of speech.

Linguistic scholars have reached a fairly wide consensus that prior to the advent of modern language, or even the development of a proto-language (in which simplistic combinations of consonant and vowel sounds were used to express information about the world and our inner states), the evolving human being used variations in vocal pitch to communicate. Essentially, we sang or hummed melodic pitch contours in order to express the essential emotional and self-preserving information of life to each other. Some linguistic experts and evolutionary psychologists have taken the position that the subsequent development of language became such a superior means of communicating literal information that it rendered the ongoing use of vocal melodic pitch expressions as superfluous. However, we see that there is much contradicting evidence which indicates that humans actually continued to refine these melodic expressions for other purposes that were essential to the development of our emotional, intellectual, and spiritual makeup — conveying literal information through language was not the only significant means of vocal expression, and the engagement in musical expressions was not done for mere entertainment or pleasure.The musical expressions that ultimately grew into what we currently conceive of as music served a vital role in our overall growth both before and after the advent of language.

If we communicated to each other through variations of vocal pitch, i.e., what are essentially expressive melodies (as simplistic as they might have been compared to our modern idea of melody) then there is no doubt that we developed a vast network of internal brain connections to deal with this melodic information, starting with the task of storing and recalling pitch melodies. We would have needed to remember information regarding specific interactions with our fellow family and tribe members, something that we would have begun to do at an early stage of life, as children refining our understanding of the meanings of these expressions. We would have used these pitch melodies in our internal thoughts to rehearse future interactions with our fellows, and we would have naturally used them in our general thought processes as well, as we contemplated how to deal with the world, just as we do today with our thoughts that are composed with the words of spoken language.

Linguistics, through the study of the use of pitch prosody in modern-day language, as well as the study of tonal languages in use today in which the definitions of some words are determined by the tone of pitch employed by the speaker, will undoubtedly help us move closer to an understanding of the meanings behind the various pitch-contours that were used in this prehistoric communication system. The study of Infant-Directed-Speech (also known as “IDS” or “Motherese”) will also help. Along these lines, some ethologists are already working diligently to correlate the pitch contours that appear in monkey and ape vocalizations today to those employed by humans. We should also bring into the fold the various ethnomusicologists who have studied the traditional and spontaneous musical outbursts of the religious and other emotionally-laden music of modern-day hunter-gatherer societies who have continued to live in a level of technological and cultural advancement consistent with that of our Paleolithic ancestors, as these offer a compelling perspective for what may have been common practice in prehistoric life.

The downstream impact of the revelations that have already come to light has scarcely yet been felt. By revising our conceptions of how the human intellect developed, how language grew, and why music has been a central component to the development of our social structures and religions, we undoubtedly now have the task of needing to revisit many of our conventional beliefs in anthropology, sociology, psychology, theology, philosophy, and music itself, which were all developed in the past without the benefit of considering this information. The medical field should also pay particular attention since the discipline of music therapy in its role as both a physical and psychological medical intervention will also be significantly touched by the ongoing developments of thought in this area concerning, well . . . the development of thought itself.

Who knows. Maybe this will even lead to the direct engagement once again in music-thoughts, consciously employed to better understand the implications of our prehistoric use of musical thoughts and its impact on human life. We may be able to stimulate music-thoughts in patients for physical and/or psychological healing. We may even find musicians and composers who can put highly engaging music-thoughts into our heads. (Wait! That’s what they’ve been doing all along, isn’t it?!) Additionally, this perspective has the potential to greatly enhance our general appreciation of music, as well as to open up whole new vistas on the possibilities for creating new music.

There’s really no telling what we can do, enlightened by this enhanced perspective.

Ok, so talk — I mean hum, or sing wordlessly — amongst yourselves now.