hello world;

the word to describe it is not speechless, although we are a wordless collective. and perhaps a pale yet accurate manner to describe this guttural thing fluttering in our stomach is excitement, but some of us agree, it's an understatement.

the truth is that, that entire paragraph is irrelevant.

OFFCUFF is a multi-disciplinary collective focusing on live audio-visual performance centered on structured improvisation. our work seeks to address the visceral and traverse the borders of the conscious and the subconscious.

OFFCUFF is:
wu jun han - video projections
shahila bte baharom - overhead (OHP) projections
mohamad riduan - handmade sound instruments + electronics
bani haykal - clarinet + guitar + live looping

this project is part of our first major experiment entitled "books".

we will be performing at The Substation Theatre on the 29th of January 2012 (Sunday) supporting an eclectic mix of musical goodness from around town. very hardcore.

have a good year ahead. 

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the way you, you, you enunciate your appreciation for my

ignorance amuses me. the way you, you, you, you offer

reason, logic and arguments the same way you, you, you

offer happiness and contentment baffles me.

we are nowhere in the universe, not existing, nor relieving a

past life, not dreaming nor spinning new stories, no, no, for

you, you, you, you served us light on our tongues and we danced

to the overtures till the end. and none of us

knew we were deaf.

i'm practicing, unlearning my methodologies and embracing my ignorance.

where i know that i know nothing, i also knew that i knew everything.

i am not listening to music.

i am not listening to the world.

i am not listening to myself.

because all that i hear is nothing.

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it's not a problem, it's an evolution, i think, i think, i

think, i slipped on your polite words constructed to tease,

at least you had hoped to tease the world around you and you,

you, you, you scream, yell, hum sweetly to unsuspecting folks,

you, you, you are adamant to convince us of your sorrow, your

wisdom, your secrets, your slouched poetry for bills and pints, oh,

you, you, you, aren't you a pretty thing to see?

spits and splatter shush of quaint phrases to chords swoon

the world wide web, sticks on lips or eyelids switching instances

overtime i'm worn out, shit man, your colliding wishful thinking

is drooling, undreaming of every ounce of sanity, but at the moment

you win a comment, there you are,

revising, revisiting and revealing yourself more than ever,

every single time, shit man, your sticky ambition is incredibly sick.

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ah yes, clean up over there, there and there and oh,

yes, please, there, there, where my heart swings and springs, you

tuck me in and i am lulled in that plastic embrace. as i recline,

politely, i decline my god given state and postulate to the scalpel

of your tongue and judgment, conscious of my every flaw,

conscious of your every taste, the graceful stitch of fate draws me

closer to my eden.

i am gasping through the mirror, i am breathtaking, i am

god's desire for perfection, (gasp!), i mean, god's desired perfection

and in this vessel i will transport you, i will move you, i will

drive you up the wall when we're through, yes, yes,

yes.

"dress me up for the party and tell your friends immortality is just across the street."

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hello and good evening. my name is bani haykal and i write music and other oddities. for today's presentation i'm sharing with you my work on music and narratives.

before i begin i'd like to state that these interpretations of sound and its use in music is purely subjective, that it is in my opinion, sonic structures can quite explicitly determine narrative specifics. my attempt to collect these ideas and thoughts are to give meaning to how i approach the music that i do, from an improvisation point of view to one which is composed. my interest is in the use of sound, even more so, music, to narrate and communicate ideas. Similar to sound design, but the difference in my work is that it is based on movements, not purely effects to further animate situations.

one of the key motivations for me was during a short stint in advertising as a copywriter. everyday it was either the radio or some horrendous internet radio blasting away. i'm quite frank about my opinions on this, you can ask my friends, but i do personally think almost everything supposedly musical that succumbs to the music business or industry is diluted noise which sounds like music, although i guess it passes as one because there are some components which might excite the listener, even me from time to time. but then again, it's not a problem, i tell myself, rather it is an evolution in music development generally. and if it is undergoing this neanderthal period, it's quite ugly and needs to brush its teeth.

before proceeding, i'd also like to share a quote. this is taken from Charles Mingus' most breathtaking and phenomenal body of work titled, "Let my Children Hear Music".

"I say, let my children have music. For God's sake, rid this society of some of the noise so that those who have ears will be able to use them someplace listening to good music. When I say good I don't mean that today's music is bad because it is loud. I mean the structures have paid no attention to the past history of the music"

Still in the first stages of research, today i will share the use of music and narratives for performance. In a way, i would say that it has to follow a relatively linear timeframe. this is because in a performance, or at least a performance in its traditional sense, it is expected to begin at some point and end at another. the progression of sitting through the narrative, or the experience itself, is linear. of course the way the story is told could be non-linear or non-chronological. i'd like to touch on 2 components tonight, one is tempo, the other tension.

TEMPO

what is tempo? why is it necessary in the first place? why the need for tempo? what happens without it? generally we can understand tempo as a means to provide a specific pace or the speed by which a piece of music is played. but this is quite a reductionist perspective, to think of it as purely beats per minute, which in my personal opinion is what's mostly giving me problems when it comes to listening to most pop music made today, maybe even more specifically dance music. in the 17th century, tempo indications were extensively used by composers, most of these words being italian. and these indicators denoted specifics. from basic indicators such as "allegro", "vivace", "adagio" etc they also have moods specified alongside the tempo as well, for example, "espressivo" which means to play expressively, "agitato", agitated, implied quickness, "sostenuto", sustained with slackening of tempo and the list goes on. in many ways, composers dealt with writing music and expressing specific tempo with moods in order to translate the appropriate tone or mood of the piece. so we could say, with regards to tempo, not only do we have a specific pace, we also would be listening to a specified mood.

Where it is tempo that we are experiencing in music, similarly we can identify it with the effect of pacing in narratives. how much details are in it, including more detail, less detail. How much the plot is segmented, unfolding of events. i'll illustrate the use of musical tempo and have you imagine the narrative. For example, listening to the following:

• - Slow / 4 notes in a bar, whole note per measure

Whilst it would carry various interpretations, the motion here is to illustrate a generally slow establishment of either a scene or character. It lacks detail, colour and dynamics. this line or motif may be repeated, perhaps even modulated, but bearing the same tempo, a specific pace is established.

If I were to re-establish that scene or character, giving it more detail. Musically, or sonically, there would be more things to listen to. So in contrast, I would swap the use of single or whole notes with chords, but is based on the same tempo, for example:

• - Slow / 4 chords in a bar / whole chords per measure

Chords used in this example sets a different tone altogether. Depending on the chords used, the experience would be altered almost quite completely, giving the character or setting more detail for one, as compared to the previous example which would be reliant on either a scale or left atonal and is relatively ambiguous.

in my opinion the use of tempo is something which contains a lot of significance in setting a scene, sonically. even if the movement were to use just 4 notes, by modulating the tempo we can quite easily notice a shift in the direction of the story. during an improvised performance, narrating a story is just like telling a story really well. and if the story teller were to continuously use the same phrases or retains the way he tells a story, it pretty much retains the same form of tension throughout. so just like a live improv performance or narrating a story, have a listen at music you have in your iphones or players and listen out for moods specified, the shifts in tempo. it's not something which requires you to be musically trained or anything, it's really just about pacing and expression. if you do have the chance, please listen to Charles Mingus' Let My Children Hear Music.

i'd like to bring your attention into crazy scientist realm. here's where i really have fun.

- Staccato / random notes / looped

- another layer of dots and angular attacks

so much chaos. what's happening? how do you make sense of it? is anything calculated?

so we understand that tempo sets the pace, establishes mood. but what happens without tempo? i imagine it'll be quite chaotic. maybe too much sounds just flying around.

but the question follows; what if that's the intention? what if the intention was to create chaos? chaos is disorder, a state where you might experience complete confusion. and it is in my opinion that even amidst chaos, you'd want to make sense of the situation. i think that as a story teller, giving the audience disorder once in awhile is a breath of fresh air. if i were to spell chaos, uncertainty, i would say that there are several ways around to building it. within tempo itself, we can illustrate just that. in fact, calculated chaos is also possible within music, with the aid of meters, rhythm, harmony. a composer could create calculated chaos, consisting of polytonality, polyrthyms, manipulating the timbre of an instrument etc etc. tempo's just the beginning.

i'll cover one more component which is relatively common in music and narratives and that is tension.

TENSION

setting the scene: the man is the protagonist in this scene.

the man lost the love of his life. struggles through drugs and depression and finally hears her voice across the street. it's raining. he forgot his umbrella, dashes out to the streets. he battles through the rain, bad traffic and the urge to pee, then sees her silhouette just inches away. steps up to the sidewalk, wipes his brow. he sees her. she sees him. the first in a very long time. with a gun.

tense huh?

now this would be a really wonderful scene to score or just design. aside from the fact that i wrote that, it's really just the use of tension and a bit of dry humor. there's a phrase for such a moment happening here. it's called a build up. and tense situations usually happens when there's a huge build up and you don't know what's about to happen next. he trudges along bad weather, crazy drivers, crazier bladder and finally the girl. and everything was so sweet until she held that gun to his head. you could say the boy released his tension when he saw the gun.

musically or just sonically we could anticipate a whole bunch of things happening. adding layers to create that much needed build up. deconstructing that scene, we start with the lonely boy. just as what we talked about in TEMPO, we want something to illustrate that.

- slow / whole notes per measure

it's dark, isn't it? design a background for this scene; rain. sound effects.

- guitar dots / teasingly

he hears her voice across the street. of course not literally we start disguising our voices, but generally setting up a significant moment in this scene. in this instance;

- violin bow / once

now he's rushing out the door, lots of movement going on. the general build up scene.

- everything goes crazy tense

he steps up to the sidewalk and sees her for the very first time.

- reverse loop / volume stays on half

and then… the gun.

- stop loop / dissonant chord

-PAUSE-

my interpretation of that moment was to bring all these harsh noise and terrible sounds to empathize with the protagonist until they make contact and that tense situation happens.

this is called dissonance, which means a set of notes or series of notes put together that doesn't sound very pleasant. seeing that it's not a happy ending just yet. something's unresolved.

the use of dissonance, which is the contrast of consonance, elevates the build up to a point which seems uncomfortable. if not given the context of the narrative, you would hear sound after sound after sound followed by that uncomfortable chord. and i believe that there's where the music experience or component comes in. without giving any context and just listening to sounds or organized sounds, how do we as listeners make sense of the things we are listening to?

if we were to read a book, or listen to a spoken word recital, chaos, tension, green grass and butterflies at war might easily be addressed or translated to the audience. we listen for phrases or sentences which shadows the things we are certain of. sonically, we are given an abstract environment almost completely and we process that and experience something which is unique to our interpretation of that sound / movement. it's like if i listen to a Maroon 5 song; all i feel like doing is slitting my wrist after he explicitly force feeds us the fact that he moves like Jagger. because an interpretation of the music language can quite consistently be ambiguous, my interest as one who's narrating stories with sound / music, is to have as close an interpretation as possible so it doesn't remain completely ambiguous, however abstract it might be.

and as always, in the wise words of Frank Zappa, "Information is not knowledge. Knowledge is not wisdom. Wisdom is not truth. Truth is not beauty. Beauty is not love. Love is not music. Music is the best."

thank you and happy holidays.

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http://sg.news.yahoo.com/blogs/singaporescene/relook-ways-handle-religion-race-issues-012456725.html

maybe it might be too soon to say this, but perhaps there really is no sane voice in mainstream media any more.

be serious, man. consider how the writer eloquently phrased the title; Relook ways to handle religion and race issues.

and if you look to the 3rd subchapter, and with much depth he calls it "Questions to Ponder," of his pseudo-intellectual, attempt-to-make-your-dog-stop-licking-itself guide / gibberish / or what would people call it, "article?", i cannot help but think of a gargantuan speech bubble emerging from the depths of that chasm in his head which houses... something... going, "holy carpal tunnel, i need to finish this article by this evening or i'm not going to be able to sleep because i've not shed wisdom upon the world. but more importantly, i think i can kinda use the money to buy that new Dan Brown book. and a moleskin because i'm a serious writer. netbooks are so 2009, iPads are so last month."

Mr Loh carefully constructs his paragraph. with such finesse, he goes tapping on his keyboard;

"these incidents have also opened up an opportunity for the government — and indeed all of society — to take a long hard look at itself and consider some questions:"

and then, he breathes in. bites his fingernails and attempted the inevitable. the questions to ponder came to existence.

am i to believe that the Chinese race cannot be discriminated against? what did he actually mean by asking, "What are the areas which discriminate against the non-Chinese races?" 

"Have we allowed the non-Chinese races to have avenues to speak their minds.." bla bla bla, holy mother goose, am i to believe that Chinese people have avenues to speak their minds freely and openly so that non-Chinese people can understand what they face and address those collectively? and by the way, just who was he referring to as "we" in these questions?

"Have we treated them right... / Have we heard them..." really? this heap of idiocy got published?

this is an article with no real aim or context, if anything else, it excelled at pissing me off. and maybe for having properly used the grammar and spell check on word doc plus word count.

and also, religion? you had it covered where? when you say non-Chinese are you referring to Christians? someone who looks like a Muslim? sorry, maybe i'll design that so you may understand it better; someone who may look like a Hindu but may not be a Hindu?*

or did they not cover that in whatever college you went to? that race and religion are very different things? someone, check his diploma.

this was quite a disgusting waste of space on the web. but if it's any consolation, you're a necessity in creating some form of discourse due to your success at sucking and making money at the same time. a miracle of the 21st century.

go sell insurance. at least if you're intending to tell people what to think, they too can make some money eventually.

*this was a cheap shot as Mr Loh wrote a sentence which read; "policies may look right, but they may not be right". applause for the attempt if you please. or publish me.

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i am motivated by a new constant, threading between consonance and dissonance every single time because that's where the sanest (if not most insane) counterpoint is. and in that sink, is where i personally think we should all surface and breathe. climbing higher is always a necessary thing, because once in awhile it's good to get out and greet the sun.

but generally, this new constant, is a reminder of having to be critical and not cynical. it's something i personally wish i could be paid doing, because the severity of having to bypass new experiences without compulsive judgment is as difficult as having to masquerade yourself across your partner after accidentally burning a copy of their favourite book. at least personally, it's quite difficult. also, i don't suppose i'm suggesting one should be attuned to the fact that money could buy guilt off your shoulder.

and so there were about a dozen bad incidences which surrounded the mythical atrocity, perhaps backstage more so than what the audience is witnessing, (i say mythical because i really do wish it actually didn't happen) at the MeRadio Rocks The Marina event at The Promontory on Saturday, 5th November 2011. this was an initiative organized by the all-mighty Mediacorp, in conjunction with Radio's 75th anniversary.

i'll begin by expressing my support and appreciation for such an event which caters and intends to uphold + represent music made in Singapore. it is, in many ways, a noble thing. a full line-up of Singapore acts, free admission (which encourages people to be open to new experiences if they haven't already been exposed) yet the ironic bit about this whole thing is that, radio in Singapore, which probably has the lowest percentage of local materials made available on air, is presenting an entire schedule dedicated to local stuff. i'm quite sure it wasn't about realigning karma.

so what was it about then?

before we look at ground zero, let's touch on some of the more obvious details.

according to how they have marketed it, "30 rocking acts. 8 hours of non-stop music."
very quick math would suggest that each rocking act would be presenting, approximately, 16 minutes of non-stop music. and i don't think i'm being cynical here. if you arrange each act, one after another, and after 16 consecutive minutes presented by 30 acts, you will get 8 hours of non-stop music. so literally, the moment BAND #1 finishes their set, BAND #2 will begin theirs, immediately. that's how we'll get 16 minutes of play time per band and on top of that, 8 hours of non-stop music.

then something happened, and from 30 rocking acts, their latest poster would tell you, "over 20 artistes set to ROCK THE MARINA!" suddenly, there seems to be a drop. by 2 acts in fact. and another fresh piece of information delivered via their poster is that the event starts from 2pm - 11pm. ok, so technically, 28 bands in 9 hours. that sounds a lot more sane than 30 bands in 8 hours. so what's the new math then? approximately 19 minutes of play time. technically, acts have an additional 3 minutes from the first tentative schedule.

lets expand it a little. by taking it that each act takes 19 minutes on stage, the organizers should have considered that the time taken to set up and tear down might take approximately, another 7 - 10 minutes, depending on the set up the act has. so what does that leave each act with? about 6 - 9 minutes or so of play time? that's about, what, a song or two at most?

were the programmers radio personalities or some ridiculously underpaid intern to have planned this oddity? unlike the tunes you play on radio, dear programmers and organizers, acts are not able to play at the switch of a button. i get the impression, a bunch of producers got together with a notepad and thought, "which gig got 30 bands in 1 day? we can make history by doing this." sure. there's also a fine line between nobility and stupidity.

it should have been a troubling concept dealing with 20 minutes of play + set up time. because in the end, they're inviting acts to come all the way down and play for however many minutes left and call it a night. i think what the producers have failed to realize is that, unlike TV and Radio, this isn't a 5 minute presentation by another singer / band you've got on air. this is, get ready for it, an actual performance, a gig.

now i'll bring your attention to some of the hidden stuff which probably won't be out in the press.

bands who have requested or are given soundcheck were to report on Friday, a day before the event, to have their set taken care of. whilst soundcheck did happen for a few acts, to my understanding ShiGGa Shay did manage to soundcheck, others such as The Observatory and Heritage, did not get to do their soundcheck. and what could be worse than not being able to do soundcheck upon arrival? how about, not being informed that soundcheck has been cancelled?

lets take it up a notch.

around 4:30pm that Friday, during a soundcheck, the police arrived and closed the soundcheck after receiving calls about the noise level. could have been the residents, the hard working office personnel in the vicinity, generally, someone wasn't too happy with all the ruckus. and why's that?

if the performance were to happen on that Saturday, and the noise level would be just as loud, why wouldn't the gig be shut down all the same? shouldn't we be concerned about that? would there have been a permit or license thingamajig that was required to sort this out, inform the public around that such an occasion demands a little bit more tolerance and can be sorted out on paper? if so, shouldn't the organizers have figured that out before hand?

and i think these are questions we need to address because, after all, should the future present itself with another occasion as such, it's good to know that these things are and can be sorted out.

yes, i have been quite incessant earlier about time and scheduling. and this is a matter which i reflect on a personal level. as a performer, we were informed of needing to cut our set even shorter because, as they explained, their Public Entertainment License has been cut by an hour. with that, technically, things were supposed to end by 10:30pm. so not only are we already playing a short set, now we're expected to play a much shorter set because set up time is inclusive of the 15 minutes given to us. acts come over to Marina, have 15 minutes to set up and play and tear down. now we have more reason to worry that the other acts playing later in the evening might be affected if schedule doesn't go on time. we've seen the police come down to close the soundcheck, why not the gig if it doesn't run on schedule? shouldn't we, those who are performing, make a conscious effort of looking out for one another and ensuring everyone gets the opportunity to perform?

there's a lot to say about the way the entire thing was managed. from rushing paper work before going up on stage, lack of equipment on stage despite having bands send in their equipment list upon request, not sure whether bands can be up on stage when they are supposed to be up on stage and ridiculous anecdotes by DJs who have absolutely no knowledge of music (or humour) or the acts involved other than a cue card with a brief bio and song list, ask any of the performers who were involved and you might just hear a story which could help shed more light on the music culture here.

aside from every obstacle which presented itself on that very day, i think the interest which should be highlighted is the inherent ignorance of community leaders who supposedly are responsible for reinvigorating or rather escalating music made in Singapore.

and so the question goes, were you actually trying to help?

breathe.

solidarity.

the one concept which i can only hope surfaces amongst us after such an incident. in my opinion, if those who are responsible in running the administrative and technical duties to promote and exhibit music in Singapore to its best, fails to do so by having a sense of appreciation to the purpose and culture of music, the only ones left are those involved in creating new work and those who truly appreciates them.

what do we know about music other than its name?

better days ahead.

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hello world.

i look forward to October, but i guess, that's sort of an every month thing, looking forward to. but October's scary, at least for me, not because of anything else but because the end of the year is approaching. and everything becomes unpredictable.

it's been a bit of a habit, promising to write more, which i shall, but here are quick updates on things happening this October.

1. Hara Kiri
date: 8 October 2011
venue: The National Museum / Gallery Theatre (Basement)
time: 8pm
Hara Kiri is a silent film and together with Leslie Low and Vivian Wang, we're doing live music accompaniment for the film.

2. White Space / Dark Matter
date: 15 + 16 October 2011
venue: Fort Canning Park / White Studio
time: 3pm
collaborating with Singapore Contact Improv Community

3. Grapheme Zine Mosh
date: 15 October 2011
venue: Goodman Arts Centre
time: 8pm
performance with ila / jun / riduan

4. SPACES
date: 20 October 2011
venue: The Substation Theatre
time: 8pm
improv performance with Associate Artists of The Substation

5. a narrative project
date: 21 October 2011
venue: Big Steps @ SMU
time: TBC

in conjunction with the Writer's Festival, he is inviting writers of every breed to collaborate by contributing and performing their written work on stage and having them translated sonically.

folks who are interested to participate in this project, please drop Savinder an email (savinder@wordforward.org), Subject: Narratives Project, with your name and title of your work. your writing should contain no more than 200 words.

6. 10 Years of QLRS
date: 25 October 2011
venue: Glass Hall / Singapore Art Museum
time: 8pm

The Quarterly Literary Review Singapore (QLRS) celebrates its first decade with words, wine and food in this special event. Founded by Toh Hsien Min in 2001, the non-profit volunteer collective has quietly featured 353 writers who have shared 344 poems, 130 short stories, 49 essays, 94 critiques, 20 interviews and 125 other articles. What literary spirit fuels the editorial team, and inspires its contributors? Writers Chan Ziqian, Grace Chua, Gwee Li Sui, Bani Haykal, Gilbert Koh, Nicholas Liu, Leonard Ng, O Thiam Chin, Daren Shiau, Kelvin Tan and Stephanie Ye will read their works while Haykal and Kelvin will share their music.

that's pretty much it for now. i'll be at The Substation's Random Room throughout the month, starting from the 10th if not earlier. will write more updates on that soon.

better days ahead.

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hello. do drop by if you're around the neighborhood.

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hello world.

my apologies for being rather quiet here. i sometimes wonder if online is a means for me to breathe, or a space where i'm still catching my breath. ok, but absurd and wasteoftime introspects aside, here are some upcoming things happening should you have an inclination to be.. err... momentarily amused.

1. Lunchtime Concert @ Lasalle
venue: SIA Theatre
date: 13th September
time: 1pm
{ this is a solo performance where i am presenting new materials as part of my research on music + narratives. } 

2. Dance, Tree, Dance
(as part of SeptFest 2011)
venue: The Substation Theatre
dates: 15th (preview) / 16th / 17th of September
time: 8pm
{ i am collaborating with Verena Tay and Andy Yang on a performance piece entitled Instant. }

3. Spread The Love - b-quartet
venue: Esplanade Outdoor Theatre
date: 18th September 
time: 8pm

4. Tribal Gathering of Tongue Tasters - Under The Velvet Sky
venue: The Substation Theatre
date: 1st October
time: 8pm
{ i am collaborating with Under the Velvet Sky and Gulayu Arkestra as part of their music performance for TGTT. }

5. The Faculty of Listening / a residency program at The Substation
venue: The Random Room @ The Substation
date: 5th - 31st October
time: 12pm - 9pm daily
{ with this residency program, i am conducting several workshops and small performances weekly as part of my research. will update soon. }

that's pretty much it for now. thanks for reading.

better days ahead.

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very very very very very sorry for this last minute update. have been incredibly busy.

will write more soon.

hope to see you guys then.

better days ahead.

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this might be a stretch, but a personal opinion i hold is that next to mathematics, music is the only other language that makes absolute sense in the universe, if not world.

good afternoon good people. my name is bani haykal. i write, but mostly i think i experiment, with music and narratives. presently i am an associate artist with The Substation and am conducting a new research project on music, narratives and culture. at the rate i am going and also at the rate information is being processed in today's digital climate (i recently read that the amount of data produced each year would fill 37,000 libraries the size of the Library of Congress), to roughly estimate when this research will end, i might not need a calendar, i might actually need a Mayan prophecy.

in the months that have passed, i have been reading, developing and practicing alternative vocabularies for music. in some ways i do hope that, in the future, i could formulate alternative music grammar, one which expresses modern life in this city-state.

an interest i have in formulating alternative music vocabulary is in the use of text. in this case, what i mean to say is that i am interested in the abstract representation of text via sound.

in the interest of keeping things more in sync, i'll attempt to illustrate what i mean with examples and see how they fair. before diving deeper into the abstract, i'd like to first present a small piece of science within the abstract.

i'd like to just relay a research made by a group of neuroscientists from Montreal and a presentation by Dr Aniruddh Patel. you could find his lecture on Youtube, just search for Music and The Mind. this research was the study of why we get chills, goosebumps when we listen to music. and the study focused on instrumental music. the human test subjects were brought in and told to bring their favorite music during the study. so when they studied the brain scans after, they found a number of areas activated, but apparently, 2 of these were significantly interesting. they are found in a deep part of the brain. this part of the brain is the reward circuitry. basically providing pleasurable rewards to the brain. and this is usually in response to biological behaviors, for instance, eating. in short, listening to these instrumental music, which Patel calls, a very abstract activity, is accessing the same structure.

that aside, the key interest by presenting that piece of information revolves around the premise, that is, the abstract.

i grew interested in music's representation to actions ever since i started appreciating Tom & Jerry cartoons. if you watch an episode, the original ones, not the crappy new ones, there are layers of immaculate synergy between music and movement. intentionally, i'd like to illustrate an example without the use of visuals to portray how text, an illustrative mechanism could hold an image whilst listening to music.

so, setting the scene. it's a bright sun shiny day. and jerry is outdoors walking towards a hammock. he seems happy.

music cue.

Tom catches sight of Jerry.

music cue.

Tom sneaks up behind Jerry and goes unnoticed.

music cue.

Jerry hits Tom with a giant spatula.

loud crack!

Jerry runs.

music cue.

as an example. i'd imagine that visually, you'd have automatically made sense of it. but even without the images, and just text, quite explicitly, you get the idea of how the music makes sense to the actions i'm describing. these "image logics" are what i personally find fascinating.

whilst the example isn't at all abstract, but the fact that musically, without giving any definitions or parameters as to what each section was ascribed to, you could configure what was intended during each section.

another bit we could steer a little off course towards is that, now, we are biased to perceive patterns within music as presented as presets to specific scenarios. so if i were to present a piece of music which goes (fast rhythmic irregular melodic lines), but tell you that in that very scenario, a man is sleeping, would your reaction then be, "shit, is something about to happen?"

so "image logics" is something which i employ in my written work. by attributing a form of imagery, one way or another, in a performance, the music that is written has the capability of spelling it out in a different depth than what's written.

in that little example, i'd like to breakdown and attempt to make sense of the use of language, in both music and verb.

sneaks. or sneaking. sneakily. the music represented is as follows: music cue (staccato / pizzicato)

the manner of which that music is written and articulated is called staccato. which basically signifies a series of unconnected notes. the abstract representation of employing staccatos, in such a hurried fashion, is that it emulates the act of tip-toeing from point A to point B. it presents the listener with a very hurried action. suggesting a sense of urgency without being violent or aggressive. and instrumentation plays a huge role in this, because playing staccatos on a double bass, bowed for instance, will render the sound to be like this (loud, low staccatos).

unless Tom is an elephant attempting to grace through thin ice, that probably won't be composed.

in a piece of music i'm working on, i have 2 direct images in my head as it's being written. it's probably a bit more abstract, but i'd like to hear interpretations of what this spells out.

the first one; on guitar / staccato

(composition #12, intro line)

the second one; on clarinet / legato

(composition #12, counter melody)

any thoughts? interpretations on the 2 lines? a given one is that they are both in contrast with one another.

the actual scenario i was attempting to set is this:

i was in the bathroom. and i saw this fly, at first i thought quite aimless, only to identify it just flapping about spiraling on its own imaginary axis, going up and then down. still flying. and then a mosquito came around, and darted in its direction, flying around, in no pattern that i could identify.

aside from the fact that by now you would probably never visit my bathroom, the general imagery of the first pattern was signifying a spiraling movement. and the second, a contrast in movement.

in summary, the imagery presented by words / phrases have significant impact on how we perceive, visually, sonically and musically. in the context of writing any text-based work, translating it musically, is heavily reliant on the interpreted imagery one gets upon reading. without having to spell out too much on how the writer would like a reader to experience, there are certain parameters which a reader would already have preconceived notions of. and these interpretations makes every experience an abstract one, one which would possibly vary from one person to another.

abstraction allows for a wider interpretation, although even then it comes at a cost. at the risk of being misinterpreted, which, if the writer had no initial idea what he was talking about or trying to get across, would probably work to his advantage. nevertheless, abstract environments allows for those experiencing the work to dive deeper into a subconscious which is possibly unique to the individual.

music is a unique experience for each listener and in that experience lies an abstract reality. and that strongly shapes how we perceive specific ideas, from words to passages to situations.

with that, thank you so much for your attention.

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i think it should read a very brief note.

i should change the title.

no matter.

will be on-air later this evening, 7pm on 938 Live, programme's called Raw & Ready.

DJ is Sarah Cheng De-Winne.

better days ahead.

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in that pause, i forgot how to breathe. subtle intermission grips unsuspecting nerves, here, and i forget the glass of water held. i remember the spill like it was yesterday. my right foot bleeds a little and i don't do anything about it. then. it is morning, already? it reeks of dew fluctuating into these early hours where i was almost drifting in turbulence. the plane subjected in this, not a breath i pause, was inevitably crashing. blood wet lips although i swear that smell is off white in contrast. sweltering through din of incessant hums, i, however, hear my thoughts argue with someone or something else. why that voice? inevitably, we crash. mother fucker. Then, pause, it breaks. i come to realize where this is. everything is a mess but is in its right place. hiss
unmistaken, how could it lie? expired escalation from the last resting point with the power still running. the spaces filled by legs uncertain, through tongues that wish to address boxed up impressions exists on the freedom that they desire. there are no more roofs now. just the sky smiling back.

sun crashing in. i forget the orange it violently shares. staring at me but i don't stare back. i cannot. it is sweet. in that pause, i forget how to breathe. the compulsion. it was inevitable, strangely it seemed remarkably normal to me how i managed to force myself out of that mess. forgetting to breathe? i come to harsh realization that it's been consistent how i conveniently forget things. anything, for that matter. enough of me. strangely, i cannot get enough of me.
more. i want more. needless to say, these conversations are only taking place inside my head. dialogues or monologues, the identity is irrelevant, but they exist only because i have been, without subjugation, consciously making efforts in understanding my job. or my purpose in my work. my need to provide for something else other than myself. i am in this place where people only need people to need things. other things which essentially goes back to them. throughout instances where moments could exist without interferences of human cultivation, a human purpose, humanity's pogo stick to the future, i happen to be retrofitted for a supposed higher purpose. and maybe it is, bitterly, that crappy mismanufactured epiphany where my existence is accompanied by a dogma for life. not in a manner where purpose is meant for the select few, or driven by the need to abide by formalities, no. but i find this space i am in, once again, oddly appealing. Then, pause, once again, i thoroughly wake up.

mainframe. i capitalize on it, but as a subset, merely, only merely so as to develop the willingness to comprehend more from where i stand. strangely, i reckon many would disagree with my ethical responsibility to this purpose. this job. i have no immunity, yet i take everything that comes in my way. literally, everything. and i have an ethical responsibility. it went off the ridges. fuck. mainframe. i capitalize on it, but only as a subset from where i stand. unlike the internet, which accordingly will expire in a couple years to come from an overpopulated implosion, whatever that means, the mainframe enforces for only two things to take place.

1. Self
2. Others

and the genius won an award for that manifesto. mother fucker. but he makes a good point. although it is a trite philosophy, really. it's pretty much what the internet was about. the mainframe. although primarily initiated by a group of self-worrying anarchists, radicals (only identifying themselves as The Seven Trolls) who held the promise that everyone's being watched by one supreme being, God or otherwise (apparently it is irrelevant in their books), the mainframe has been a product and evidently, selling pretty well in the past few months. even at this day and age, these so-called anarchists can't stand on the primitive basis of things. but what do i know. i am not an anarchist. i am an experiment, another promise waiting to be pronounced to the world. at least that's what these anarchists call everyone who cannot identify themselves from either sharing a similar perspective with them or not. i wouldn't call them simpletons, these
radicals, no. but it doesn't make them any difficult to get either. Red Garland in my head. i hear him entangling the rhythms in one mellifluous sweep. sweetly moving trapped thoughts of things into another shift. i forget again. my feet still hurts.

i was, once, wondering if there really was a point in celebrating this fearless leader. he says the importance that the mainframe proposes for its users is ultimately the significant respect that it pays to them (the users) without backdoors that would interfere whatever it is you have running in your system. unlike the net, the mainframe allows for anything to be exchanged at the discretion of the user, even if it is for a price. although trading is much favored in the mainframe. the mainframe is a virtual space where, in actuality, any operating software, granted it is appropriately hacked in, would be able to access. funny thing is that all these other operating systems will not recognize the command phrase that the mainframe is based upon. this was something that the fearless leader had briefly explained, that no matter how useful and resourceful the mainframe's dogma and contribution to humanity's progress is, the federation of
conglomerates, who operates about 96% of the world's systems will never identify and give any form of acknowledgment to the mainframe's existence / command phrase or its actual name. (ironically, to prevent the codes from being stolen or pirated, the mainframe's true name is not allowed to be said. anywhere. unless you are a program moderator, that's different.) apparently it has something to do with the mainframe breaching 8 nanoprotocols within The Department of Guidelines in this country alone. the mainframe allows for each user a space for anything. every user is, no, wait, has an unregulated space for content. imagine, an encyclopedia which belongs to every individual. and however you choose to stock up your space, that determines what others
would find / store / apply. the mainframe. i capitalize on it, everyday. sometimes it scares me just what people have stored up in their space. one guy was selling codes to space stations loitering about Jupiter. on top of that, the maniac wrote ebooks on code duplication / mirrored exoneration / negative construction (an anarchists' wet dream for nongovernmental ruling) and ethical genocide. the latter topic became a study in several universities. called a maniac, for a reason.

it breaks upon, half time clicks, several tongue clacks shifting blush to bloom and at once blushing back again into hours innards and i am triggered to resolve the objective for the day. i am rediscovering the given method. the mainframe. once again. i capitalize on it. but nothing seems to be of importance to the people back at the office. the office. i live in the eden of conjecture. windowcliffs. dark clouds with sun. everyday i'm looking out for... something. fat
hope. nothing, nothing, nothing. i face the madness of vulnerability too often. daylight is crazy to the skin. i float on instances where each second eats into me, seeking some sort of fucked up attention. usually i come back to the same pause i've had for as long as i could remember. the pause where the old man is replaying every interview he's ever had for the longest of time. old man's believed to be a saint to The Seven Trolls. dazed. fumes dust my line of sight as everything becomes muted in minutes. there is this fake stillness about this place. this place, where people are without people. strangely i am drawn to this clink. off printers and faxes, dreadfully, i pull out yet another source of the old man's body of work. his interviews which supposedly concerns the development of born-again human beings has started to annoy me since the first series of questions struck. on the mainframe, i list excerpts : { what would you do with ten dollars? what color do you think i like? why do you take the bus when you can walk in the rain? is your dog actually a cat? do i look fat on my hips? could you
repeat this question i was asking? } sometimes i ask myself if there was a point to uncover the lost traits of mankind and all these sugarless aftermath. shouldn't we have arrived at an inevitable? shouldn't we be progressing towards the inevitable? it's a chain reaction no one can configure. we won't understand why we are where we are, sometimes. sometimes, although it might be difficult to understand, we will understand why we are where we are not. and this is difficult. this is a difficult puzzle to solve. and i cannot discuss this matter anyone else. i can only discuss this, this matter, with no one.

even in nothingness, nothing includes itself.

i stand by washed walls collapsing for breakfast in this smile so bright. so bright. whilst i hesitantly puncture these pages of manic compulsions, i slow down my pace and retrace the sentiments that brought me here. here. sometimes it is a wonder how i got here.

1. Self
2. Others

mother fucker. i unwrap every protocol from the mainframe and reconstruct everything from scratch, once again. i bridge the pieces and build an abutment with a billion fears that crawl out through tongues and thoughts. tongues and thoughts. i wish i was as optimistic as i was before. this room here is a right mess. everything is a mess. fancy way of removing a presence from the atmosphere. where to begin? what's the fill?

I begin with the sentiment that this space is a resource. Although his room is primarily destroyed, I can't say much about mine either. But even despite, I've come to believe that every construct that had taken place within the old man's structure of work is ultimately logical, in one way or the other. Objectively, I must find grounds where it does hold sense and meaning to what the people at the office are looking for. Cease from opinions, let my critical perspective structure the space I'm building. As the prime architect of this purpose, I am thoroughly lost. Confused. Throughly. But that shouldn't stop me. What's the fill? Where to begin?

Gray. This looks like a beautiful gray. Contrast text. We're good. I begin with the sentiment that this space is a resource. In this pause, i forget how to breathe. and this afternoon's collapse is a hybrid of overheating, claustrophobia and nausea. blinking through minutes, the fall, somehow, i remember it well, puts me to sleep.

How did I get here?

for once, i paid no attention to what has become of me. how i am associated with this condition i am in and what i could do to narrate this experience better. the patterns, unmistakable. this evening's collapse, happened too quickly, i cannot remember how it all happened.

. e f
2 the s

outstumbled in up and droughd shun these? eyes fuzzed. i'd alshoved meekness peculiar to the absences tumbfumbling. i shoed, haven owned, any of these muckrakers had it in them, holier than thoust artest, brushing off impurities for malpurities. how i wished i had more sense coming out of me. and Then it sweeps in. Swooshing through this beard. I am careful about the next few moves I am about to make. Carefully consider the options now. Slowly. What's the first option? I think that they are watching me. That shouldn't get to me. Everyone's watching someone, somehow. Absolutely unimaginable. Acid lanky intermissions makes for pauses between thoughts. Majesty, i am confused. puns, under these compulsions which i happen to relive every beating punctuation of, begins its ascend. blinds. i ignore the creaking unmistaken as incessant, here i, blink to the quietness storming in of the first sun rays. fix the head now, fix that head. scatterbrained through violent dinning, this marmalade crash is confusing me. someone told me to salvage calamity. suddenly i am fixed on the idea that today i shall have pancakes. sweetness. suddenly i am fixed on the idea that today i shall have pancakes. it then forcing its likenlinesses upon me, i occurred. i flip my tongue around and slap my face a thousand times over, slowly tossing the seedy yet impenetrable thought of... i had something but it slipped. well, waking up and feeling hungry is easy. i have not had a craving for anything for the longest of time. i feel that i am interesting that way. I'll put that on the mainframe.

I wake up to, I can hear you, violent knocks on the door. No one should know I'm in this apartment. I was promised isolation, away from conflicts, miscommunications, misinterpretations. Everything. But this wasn't part of the contract. Somehow I felt it wouldn't do any harm for me to attend to that motherknocker. It is probably in my best interest that I become used to my footprints leading me towards the exit. Anytime now, I think. I think. Who could it be? A letter. I made all that effort for a letter. Whoever it was made all that effort for a letter.

Dear Old Stockholm,
It is in our best interest that we leave you here for a few more months before you are officially permitted to submit your dissertation. As you would know by now, the world is not a safe place anymore for us, humans, who are in our most finite nature, humans. The world has come to a point where the purpose of habitation has, for lack of a better phrase, dissolved to a new low. We see, every single day, the purpose mutating into the virus tomorrow promises. Know
this, we at the Society treasure every one of our staff, even if you might be a part of us purely for the money because should that be the motivation that you require to channel our ideology across, we must always remember, money, like any other form of trade, is purely a measure made in response to the effort you put in. We have stopped living in a world where people cultivate for the future. We are now living in a place where people are without people. Estranged from the pure cultures of humanity, and into a place where even the greatest leaders in the world could not refuse.

You are a major contribution to this society and your efforts will not be in vain. Our purpose is absolute. There is only one way to rebuild ourselves and that starts from every individual. We need to understand how things function before we could choose to operate on them. The mechanics of our society needs to be reengineered. You are not a tool in this operation. You are a dignified pork roast that bites back the teeth that bites you. And we say that with all the love in the world.

With regards,
The Seven Trolls.

Sometimes I wonder if they have any idea that Dear Old Stockholm is dead. I'm not comfortable living with a corpse in the closet, but it's the ideal for now. Poor old man. Dead even before he could be given a medal for his accomplishment. I do feel like I have a responsibility in admiring him. After all, he's given The Seven Trolls a bunch of perspectives on nothingness. Does it really mean anything to these people? Questions of pure emptiness? Whatever it is, whatever he has done, evidently is the most significant thing for modern society as we know it. Some say, the most important figure since Nietzsche.

Dear Old Stockholm, lost for good, for now, tucked away for God knows whose best interest. I guess as a thinker he could be dangerously right in the eyes of corporations. Culture as a manufactured option for the masses, to be in everyone's own interest to buy them as opposed to letting it run its own course. Ultimately if billions saw his perspective on life, everyone just might like to abandon all hopes and let this mess of a country, hell planet, burn. If anything else, on my own unbiased opinion, he's right about a future. That, "...There is no future, but one where people forget about time. Where people do not identify themselves with anything but a will to reciprocate for one another. A future where people remember nothing of the past because it is an opinion based on facts. The future only happens when people live for people and nothing else. We will then know that there is no Utopia, but whatever that is relative. We do not need a future if we keep on dreaming for the best. There is no such thing as an ideal in life although there is an ideal in dying. Die happy."

And I am responsible for his death. Somehow I don't feel guilty about it.

Sorry, old man.

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(Clarinet/ open)

5/4 { ff | ff > | f | f || }

4/4 { f > | p | p | p || }

5/4 { p < ff | ff > | pp | pp || }
   > triplet { p < f ||: }

7/8 { f | f > mf | mf | mf || }
   > guitar / stacatto { f ||: } 

4/4 { mf > p | p | p | p || }

they must have decided to remind me of their existence. i believe i was in the middle of nowhere, perhaps between sleep and the shuffled, hazy dialogues of the good doctor, your cynicism is only as good as the writers who made you, and they decided to embed realities brutal as hell amidst the storm of inconsistent tragicomedies. and this is only on account that the media constructed an alternate reality far from the obvious whathaveyou.

bulldozed and rehashed, my ears are victims of an undeclared war between the corporations eager to manifest and nurture the future of uncertaintines, and earth's inhabitants, feet kissing skin of dried leaves sheltering afterthoughts long gone just after breakfast is digested. afterthoughts, nude basking, circling the idea of having been marooned off their minds, just outside, the world beyond the couch i am nested in, grounds are leveled and everything looks consistent and quiet, in a fashion they determine. once, twice, thrice, who'd care what comes next, the noise fed is enough to make me bleed out of my nose. <loop ends>

but i am not waiting. i choose not to wait.

(guitar)

{ mf > p | - f | f > mf | mf || }

{ f | f > pp < | fff > | p || }
   > slide { mf ||: } 

4/4 (HYP-C) { mf | mf > | p | p ||: }
   > | 2 | 3 | 6 | 7 | 9 | 13 |

(clarinet /not open)

4/4 (HYP-C) { f | f > | mf | mf ||: }

5/4 { mf | mf < f | f > p | p ||: }

(glocks)

{ mf | mf | mf > | p ||: }
   > whole notes throughout

apparently i have to wait. apparently, it is necessary that i wait. whilst their generator is running consistent with their hunger, yes, they are expecting for someone to crash in. and i was about to crash. i was about to crash. though these, ears fueled and hollowed in a singular left hook, ours, none not as much hesitant, swept the burrows to ready a fort and spring attacks, though these, oddly, were built to embrace information. <loop ends>

were they waiting? were they thinking the television noise will drown these wonderments? i am nested, yes, nested beneath the rubble from 10 years of their amusing avalanche and toxic therapy, labyrinths of their spine, and i believe we've all sniffed the pits of wrath way too long.

(guitar)

{ mf | mf | mf > | p ||: }
   > whole notes throughout 

yes? yes? could you hold that thought until i am done evading the tongues of your promises?

you are too kind.

(clarinet/ open)

{ p | p | p < | f || }

5/4 { f | f < ff > | pp | pp || }

7/8 { pp > ppp < | mf | mf < | f || }
   > with ongoing loop ( guitar / stacatto { mf < f ||: } ) 

> reverse loop

(glocks)

{ mf | mf | mf > | p ||: }
   > whole notes throughout

<loop ends>

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hello world.

another narrative performance update.

venue : Blu Jaz Cafe / 3rd floor (Bali Lane)
date : 12 May 11
time : 8pm

better days ahead.

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4/4 { pppp | pppp < | p > pppp. | pppp ||: }
(g'e) x'(k)e` ||: |[ (k'h)A` | A` | e's_ (sths)

4/4 { mf < f | f | f > pp | pp || }
'tchk-'tchk-'tchk-'tchk ||:

4/4 { pp < | mf < | f > | p || }
> clears throat

i would have said thank you, but the attention wasn't so much intended for the preliminary sounds or oddbreaths scampering to collect my thoughts together. "are you nervous?" one asked, but even then, i don't suppose i have an answer to offer. for nervousness, for me, is defined when i've decided to throw my eagerness away and kickstart a vocabulary i fear others might not relate to. i don't think, collectively, as part of society, we fear communicating when our frequencies are fluctuating together, in unison or contrast, no matter, yes, no, for even then, a piece of information is still, nevertheless, understood, agreed or disagreed upon.

"shhh-uhhh-t'.... it."

4/4 { pp < | mf < | f > | p || }
> clears throat

"shall we dance?" and i thought, "ok, maybe this will be interesting," but as you can see i am a terrible dancer and i will not be able to save our lives if that were to be the defining medium between life and death. but i have already begun to move, i am beginning to define boundaries for myself which you are invited to be in, i welcome you into my head, but don't tear apart the prejudices and biasness in me for those are authentic constructs of what you are moving with. i do not speak in tongues, but i will wrap you in mine, because the very idea of my presence was to tell you a singular piece of information which i must insist you know.

4/4 { pp < | mf < | f > | p || }
> clears throat

your presence is intimidating. i am lost in your compulsions and i am addicted to them. what are you doing today, what will you do tomorrow, what can we do again some day, but then suddenly, you invite me to listen with you.

4/4 { pppp < | p > | ppp < | p || }

4/4 { mf > p | p > pp < | f > mf. ||: }
(`x.k)'ea. | 'ss_ | >breathe in | hold ||:

4/4 { mf | mf > p | p < mf | mf || }

5/4 { mf < f. | f. - | ff > | p || }

4/4 { p | p < mf. | mf. < f | f || }

4/4 { f > p. | p. > pp > ppp | ppp < | mf ||: }

i think i heard you. ||:

it's surreal from where we are, trust me. and i think we can leave it as that.

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hello world.

new schedules for solo performances.

2. Playfreely
venue : Goodman Arts Centre
date : 29th April 2011
time : 8pm

3. narratives #1.2
venue : The Pigeonhole
date : 30th April 2011
time : 8pm

4. narratives #1.3
venue : The Esplanade Concourse
date : 4th May 2011
time : 7pm

5. narratives #2
venue : Night&Day Singapore
date : 5th May 2011
time : 8pm

6. narratives #2.2
venue : The Esplanade Concourse
date : 9th May 2011
time : 7pm

basically, in the next few months to come, i will be presenting several solo performances around town, primarily to share my developments in alternative music systems and narratives.

a little background:
presently i am conducting a study on alternative music systems, particularly one which reflects and expresses globalized Asia, if not just Singapore. in this study, my interest is in reinterpreting the already present ideas of music and reconstructing them to what i would deem a vocabulary which best represents the social / psychological climate here. my philosophy is that music, ultimately, is a subjective listening experience, comprising of sounds or no-sounds, organized or otherwise, encapsulated in a time frame, relevant to the individual listener. that by subjecting music to categorization is nothing more than a mere attempt at communicating the music made, but that in itself, has no definite value to the actual composition, only an idea.

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fragment #1 (philosophy)

the philosophy is that music is a subjective listening experience, comprised of sounds or no-sounds, organized or otherwise, encapsulated in a time frame only relevant to the individual listener. however it is that the individual finds a listening environment not relating to the idea of "noise" in the most general sense of the word, we attribute the moment as a music experience. in short, music is a state where noise, as defined by the individual, is not present.

the need to define music in this manner is to put forth the idea that music defies any form of categorization. this is largely due to the fact that the idea of categorizing, or genrefication, proves nothing of the actual value of music written / performed, other than to give an impression, or an idea of what it might encompass. whilst i am not suggesting the destruction of genres, i do propose the need for the musicians / composers to destroy the idea of compartmentalizing their creative efforts in music making.

fragment #2 (the concept of a problem)

i have once stated that the social purpose of music made in Singapore is a big problem, meaning to say the social purpose of music is purposeless other than being a primary source of entertainment (which isn't at all a negative point seeing that music, since the beginning, has its means or purpose to entertain). but recently, i have begun to think further about the problem of calling it a "problem" all the same.

this is due to the fact that, by and large, by identifying something as a problem, i am ultimately stating that there is an ideal which is the answer to that problem, or that it is a problem because it isn't serving a function it should be. and i find this to be thoroughly arrogant.

whilst, musically, there might be various problems in communicating with the listeners (for example, reducing the spectrum / dynamics of music), i reach a junction where i am forced to ask myself if it should be perceived more as an evolution, rather than it is a problem.

fragment #3 (social purpose and musical stasis)

when i attribute the idea of musical stasis in Singapore, i put forth the thought that musically, the vocabulary is presently plateauing. the development of a sound continuum exists merely on external musical influences, adapted and applied to our existence and presented to listeners.

the stasis i feel that i am experiencing is due to the fact that the interpretations of music from every whichwhere musicians here are redefining seems to only help stretch the dynamic musical climate from a classificatory perspective. the vocabulary stretch, not that this is in any way a negative point, is quite limited if not zero. and even in this perspective, i refuse to identify the vocabulary needed from an academic / theoritical point of view, as i believe that the vocabulary could (if not, should) come from collective improvisation, with or without the knowledge of music, traditional or non-traditional.

i believe that through collective efforts, music in Singapore could find its place in society, and thus providing its purpose.

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