MC Wren recently joined the fight against gentrification. He has joined a group of protestors who claim that the international phenomenon know as "hip-hop" can be attributed to a single apartment building in Brooklyn that now faces demolition. It was in the basement of this building that MC Wren spun and scratched records to the delight and amusement of partygoers, instigating a trend in music that forever reshaped the use of the record player, and the sound of music.
As a child of the late 80's and early 90's, my mother was appalled when I attempted to emulate the DJ's on MTV, ruining her vintage copy of Jesus Christ Superstar by scratching the needle heedlessly across the surface. What I failed to realize was that a track was already laid down, and the samples and scratching sounds were icing on the audible cake. When I finally came across a professional tabletop I understood the interface, and with it, the possibilities of accentuating pre-existing sounds. I smirked at the novelty of it all. The disk jockey, previous to the hip-hop phenomena, prided themselves on transitioning between tracks. Fading out of one track, concealing the moment of transition with some soulful comment, and fading into the next. The prowess of the DJ was evidenced by how well they could hide their hand. Thanks to MC Wren and the technological advances of the turntables, the hand comes to the fore-the skill of the DJ is now determined by how they privilege their interface, interference, or intrusion into the existing track. To the point where the existing track is only recognizable by those well versed in late 70's bass guitar rhythms (yes, Queen is the most sampled band in hip-hop). The transition that the old DJ's prided themselves on, practiced endlessly into the night, is now accomplished with a slider. One flick of the wrist keeps the party going.
Stephen Lee, a graduate student in the music program at Stony Brook, was kind enough to explain to me his recent work on a drum machine that is based on probabilities. First, however, it must be stated that this writer has certain reservations. I'm no percussionist, but I am a drummer. I'm no musician, but I do pick a guitar. I'm no music snob, but...We are all faced with the inevitable question: "so what kind of music do you like?" After, of course, revealing just how open minded we are with the automatic response of "I like all kinds of music" we immediately begin to qualify our answer: "except country", or "I don't like rap", or "late Joe Cocker really bothers me. I mean, the Woodstock years were great. But what happened in the Eighties? Love lift us up where we belong? C'mon, Joe." Personally, my qualifier revolves around computer music. I really don't like Techno, except for the jazz-infused jam-band techno covers by such obscure groups as Leftover Salmon and the Disco Biscuits. But when they do techno they are being ironic; they are bands known for live performance, and techno lacks the essence of live music-spontaneity, improvisation, feeling. So, when I sat down with Stephen Lee and he said the words "Drum Machine" I had to remind myself to be open minded. By the end of the interview, however, he had opened my mind.
As Stephen Lee explains, the system he works with is "based on probabilities. It can operate like a traditional drum machine by programming the probability to 0% or 100%." That is, in any given loop Stephen programs a sound according to a specific moment. "I tend to use one or two primary drumbeats; the bass drum on beat ‘one' every time, or the upbeat of the second," he explains. Within one bar, we'll call it a ten second loop, the bass drum will sound at the exact moment he sets it for-every fourth note for example. By applying a 100% probability that the bass drum will sound, he creates the backbone of the loop. Think of the first notes of Closer by Nine Inch Nails. "It's probably best to explain it as a hierarchy," he states to my confused look. "The bass drum is the first level. The second level is set at a 50% probability. So whatever sound I program at the second level has a 50% chance of sounding off as the loop comes around." The bass drum is constant, and the second level has a coin-toss chance of sounding off each time the track loops. "On the third level I pack as many beats in as possible." Eighth notes, sixteenth, sixty-second notes, up to so many that the human ear cannot differentiate the sound. Because of this hierarchy "it continually changes, but still sounds musical. All the machine really does is output events. The potential for such a thing is in the events. Having these events triggers some kind of sample, every time ‘x' event happens, it will play sound from the beginning, in reverse, or adjust the speed.
At this point the traditionalist in me perked up, and I wondered why there is a human involved in this equation at all. Stephen claimed that after tinkering with this interface he "realized that it works in the same fashion as how I subconsciously drum while on a set." Furthermore, by using samples of sounds the machine is very conducive to live performance. "Working in partnership with the computer, you can structure what will happen," Stephen says. So, incorporating a certain probability fills the void of improvisation that a standard drum machine creates.
Then, of course, the interface: Though Stephen may not be pounding on hollowed cylinders with carved sticks, he does assert a lot of control over the sound.
"I decided on a modular fashion. It allows for the use of modular interface for purposes other than what was intended. "[I thought] it would be a shame if I left it more sterilized, I needed to exercise creativity. I agonized over an interface that enabled flexibility for performers." This way it enables the performer to have more agility; to paint with a larger brush." Stephen says. So what does it look like? Well, a diagram of a chemical compound, or flow chart notes for linear algebra, or the tunnels and hollows of a farm of Pythagorean ants.
Where is the hand? In order to convince me that my preference for actual instruments is archaic, and that my taste is as obsolete as it is elitist, I needed to see the performer. Stephen led me into a conference room in the Music Library; he opened his laptop, plugged into the speakers system, and plugged a midi controller into his laptop. In a matter of minutes he was making music. He popped his eyes off the screen to say, "the multi-slider contains 16 slides and can determine each 16th note. Using a dual multi-slider, one controls the probability while the other controls the note resolution. The performer makes the big decisions. The multi-slider specifies all probabilities, and with two multi-sliders you can cross fade between two sets of data. With the midi-controller, you can tweak the patch, or use it in a performance to make the sound more intense of slow."
On March 5 Stephen teamed up with Stephan Moore for an improvisational performance at Stony Brook's annual Earfest concert, and he hosts "Under the Groove" on WUSB-that's our radio station. Did you know we had one? It's 90.1 FM if you are in the area, or www.wusb.fm if you are ever on the net. To hear some of his work visit his website; he made a believer out of me.
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