Art of noise | Permalink

Noise.

Is music one of the less frustrating sounds?
What is music?

I tremble.

It's just energy zapping at all directions employing the air's properties, being itself a fluid yet a medium to transform, convert and transport energy in the universe. Call it mechanical energy, because it needs and depends on matter to be heard.

I crouch and cover my head with my hands, trembling. Blasting, ambiental sounds and the floor rattling under my knees.

My heart pounding.

Music, just like spoken words, is temporal.

Efímera?

Unlike written words, which can prevail for infinity, music is the art of noise, the terraforming of millions of atoms to form soothing textures.

Can air have texture?

You cannot feel it, unless it moves. And noise is matter in movement.

Energy.

The walls begin to shake. The windows shatter into tiny pieces, falling to the ground as dust.

When you manipulate matter, you, as a human being, can make it look just like you, be, act and transform like you. Matter can become a mirror of your own being. Music, a human discovery, is the use, not abuse, of matter to emote, to communicate, to relate to other beings in a universal language. Therefore, when you make music, compose it or cause it, you are transmutating your spirit, tamashii, and making it understandable to others when they hear it.

Music is the universal language.

The walls disolve as a light so bright entered through the ceiling. The floor tiles flew to the air, becoming dust, vapor. The room disappeared, leaving me alone in a white void. I was curled up, not knowing if I was either on the floor, on the walls or on the ceiling of this blank spac. Eyes tightly closed, forehead sweating, heart beating as a bomb.

It has been looked into, this particular thing about music, that it can create emotions, and emulate messages to hearers. Studies have been made to understand this form of art, as an aid to help children learn, to cure people, to relax, to chill, to serve as a tool and as a way of life. Music, possibly man's first discovery, although temporal, its essence may prevail to infinity if we humans are alive. Once humans are deleted, as they will be in a far future, music won't exist as music, until other beings, with a rational mind, probably as complex as ours, or more, create music.

Silence. I feel something cold.

Music can't be held by our hands. We cannot grasp it, it is just air in movement. It is not materialistically represented as it is impossible. Not a texture of a sculpture, not a colour on a painting, not a frame on a video, not a column of a structure. Music, as a form of art, the art of noise, the art of sound, is a medium of communication, to emulate feelings. That is only what we humans percieve, but matter adjusts to it, takes its form.

And when you freeze water along with a tune, the solid bihydrogen oxide, in its interior structure, may seem just as what the music transmits.

Then, I hear a click.

Something rolling.

Then a string being plucked. A guitar.

I open my eyes. I return to the room.

I stand up, look at the LP being played on the turntable. Then gaze up to the sky outside through the window. The sunset over the busy city, the bugs chirping, the grass moving along with the wind.

It's about time.

Sleep.

BGM:

BoA feat. Duvet: Serial Experiments Lain Opening Theme

Brian Eno: Bone Bomb