On extreme music

Extreme music is but one incarnation within the vast spectrum of expression which we call art.

Art works best when there is real emotion conveyed by it. Because then it resonates with the viewer like few things can. Conversely, this means it is not particularly well-suited for conveying exact information — No art ever really is.

It is rather obvious. If you would want to explain bookkeeping or pass a shopping list, or give someone the password to your computer, you should write a sticky note instead, not sing a song. Art, for data transmission, is not well-suited.

However, art does convey quite a lot. The emotional, the spiritual, the empathic, the sublime. It does not transport these in equal measure, nor does it distribute them the same way for artist and audience. Yet these components are always present. Art can only really work when it contains such ingredients.

Art is aspiration, ambition, hope. It is a viewport into human potential. It shows us what we can be, and does so in stark opposition to the ridiculously two-dimensional snapshots of self- projection which are so often presented as truth to the world at large. Yes, I am looking at you, social media.

Communication #

But back to the question at hand: How are the emotional, spiritual, empathic, and sublime brought across in extreme music?

In genres like death metal and black metal, codified aesthetics play an important role. The technical aspects of the music itself are definitely part of what is ‘good’ about the music. Melodies, structure, skill, all come into play here. Thus, unoriginal or derivative work is not held in high regard. For laypersons, such beauty can initially be hard to grasp. But this is the same as with experimental jazz or complicated baroque compositions. Basically, it does not differ from any other kind of art.

However, besides the occasional virtuosity, extreme music communicates many non-musical concepts as well. That is a particularly good thing. Extreme music being on the aesthetical fringe, it positions itself far away from the cultural mainstream, by default. Basically, people like easy, faceless stuff that does not make them think, or fades easily into the background. Extreme music never does this, by its very nature, and that’s why it is forever relegated to be an outlier.

Anger Angel

With intent of blind stupidity.

Stuffing mouth and spirit with mediocrity processed.

Hail quantity, surrender to cognizance absent!

From the perspective of extreme music as an outlier by default, many venues for experimentation open up. Freed from the weight of high culture, free creative movement through the entirety of the artistic space is available. This freedom of creative movement in form and technique is fundamental to all art. It ensures the artist, and the art produced, remain in constant development.

Equally, this process can never stop: In art, as in life, standstill equals death.

Rather Unpleasant #

Here we clearly see why dissonance, noise, and other odd techniques are such a fundamental part of extreme music. In extreme metal it could be the vocalist’s affect and style. In the drone genre, it might be the completely unconventional structure of the track. Within the noise genre, it is often a highly experimental production style. The list goes on.

So, How does extreme music communicate these high-brow, mostly emotional concepts? After all, the mechanisms of pathos and sympathy are unavailable, aren’t they? One would think so at first listen, but that is not the case. Music in general is very suitable for conveying emotion. Extreme music is no exception. Even though heavy layering, complex instrumentation, and the chaotic shape of the sound itself can hide some methods, the music can —and does— achieve this end.

Why is music good at conveying emotion? First, music has a human measure, a human size. You need a similar layout, a shared biology, to understand music in the first place. (Animals such as dogs and greenflies, for example, just consider most human music to be very annoying.) Admittedly, music does sometimes exceed its creator’s boundaries: too fast, too slow, it falls outside human hearing range, or showcases a complete loss of structure. Just like other contrasts in music, these are often used to construct a narrative, to tell a story. It is this aspect, the measured narrative, that underlines our shared essence. We are capable of appreciating the same things. We can communicate across language, time, space, and personal differences. In this sense, music is indeed a universal language. A language not for facts, but for all those other things. For shared emotion.

Secondly, it requires observer and artist to be synchronized in time. Offset maybe, but synchronized nonetheless. Time passes in the same way for you as it does for other listeners. This in itself has aspects of a ritual. Setting up the moment. Being led by the artist through an experience in real time. You are experiencing alongside the artist, as it were.

Level Up #

To choose to let an artist take you along for the ride is a commitment. In the case of contemporary and ubiquitous consumption of music, it is perhaps nothing more than a sideways glance. Even that forms a commitment, albeit a small one. But it’s like this: You get out of it what you put in. For example by attending live music. This truly is the next level up. It all becomes much more intense, much more real, when artist and audience are synchronized in both time and space. Artist and audience physically being in the same place takes more effort. It takes more time, money, and energy. The commitment is often large, not only from the side of the performer but from the audience as well. Sometimes almost absurdly so. People travel thousands of kilometers to see ‘their’ bands. They spend their entire wages on visiting live performances, after which they will still call it “The best experience of my life, man!”

Similarities to a pilgrimage are easily spotted.

A successful live performance bridges the distance between the brains of the performer and the audience. The artist guides you through time and space, shares their personal answer and their gift of creativity. They share their light within, through this universal language of music: I, the artist, offer you, the listener, my soul.

As is to be expected, this experience causes emotional affect. Be it personal time-synchronized listening or the immersive live performance I just mentioned. When done right, this leads to creative admiration and to the cognitive appreciation of the work. The light that shines through, the stuff that really hooks you, is there at the very beginning. It is there before you posed an answer, before rationality. When done right, when synchronization and communication truly take place, it shakes your core: Wordless, primitive, raw, glorious.

That sounds almost religious. Yet contemporary art is secular.

Art Is Secular #

Why is this so? Firstly, the pantheon of artists is much too complex to grasp. Its deities are continuously shifting, changing, exchanged, and transformed. If gods become people and people become gods, we’re all part of it. Thus, art is secular.

Another approach is this: When art is not free, it is vastly reduced in quality. Exactly as medieval times were not good for experimental art, autocracies are not fertile grounds for creativity either. At this very moment, conservative politics are instrumentalized to achieve the same effect. Since at the core of conservative thinking is the very idea that change is unwanted, all truly free expression is considered to be a threat. All non-traditional expressions are considered an attack on values, instead of the opportunity for cultural enrichment which they actually are.

Conservatism is opposite to art in almost every way. As religion is the most widespread conservative ideology, the conclusion must be that contemporary art is quite incompatible with religion.

No, the experience I described is not religious. This experience is based not on the conformation to an ideological framework, but on being in the here and now. An anchor to the continuously moving, yet eternal, now. An anchor we direly need in our chaotic, distracted lives. It goes well beyond just seeing pretty things or having a good time.

Although I do strongly believe that all religion is based on this same feeling of wonder and connection to the world around us, modern institutionalized religion has more overlap with capitalism than it does with spirituality.

Après moi, le déluge #

For those who don’t know: Extreme music is often rather ugly. I have often been left with an uncomfortable feeling of loss, anger, or sadness after listening to music. It shows you what life is really like, without the hyper-positive bias mainstream music oftne has. I can relate to it better since it shows me what I know and feel: An unclear, grainy picture of an ugly world, filled with ugly people. That feels a lot less like lying than most other styles of music do. Hhow does this come to be?

Let us take a step back. Let us assume we have connected with an artistic expression by a very angry-sounding person. Recognition has taken place. The gap between artist and audience has been bridged. Great. Where do we go from here?

If we stopped at this point, there would only be the flat, cold fact of life itself. We already know that there’s no one to save us, that there no future. It follows that this life has no meaning. It would most likely lead to Hedonism. To the pleasures of the flesh, knowing full-well that these exact a price.

Such a self-immolating, sacrificial attitude could be considered religious, quite Christian in fact. Yet there is no frame to give the sacrifice its context. Hedonism accepts no guilt, and as such, there is no agency to be found. There is no responsibility of the person experiencing these delights to any external entities. There is not even a meaningful internal entity, really.

This is exactly where it falls apart for most people. If you are only your desires, then sating these must be your most important imperative. From this perspective, art can only satisfy a fleeting interest, by providing the next thrill.

No. I can accept the futility of life, the non-truth of God, the captivity of the flesh, and weakness of the mind. I see the vanity in ascribing meaning to anything in this existence. But what comes next?

Art is the only way out. The Stoics would call it an expression of Virtue. The creation of experiences that are as versatile and personal as the people experiencing them. (You would be forgiven to think I’m talking about sex toys here, but that is really just sensory Hedonism: good for a bit, yet after the fifteenth orgasm quickly loses its meaning.) The only real value lies within the spirit. If you are lucky, you will find people that join you in this search. If you work hard on it, they might even stick around. They will indubitably find different things in the search than you have, but the parallelism of your searches is the value you are looking for. Sharing experiences like a ritual — That is where the magic is.

Ritual #

The experience of music —live music doubly so— is a ritual. This ritual depends greatly on the participants, setting, and expectations.

I do not expect a high quality, direct live experience in visiting an arena concert with 40.000 others. At least, not in the way I do with a tiny gig in some damp basement club. Yet it may still happen in both situations.

The ritual aspect is in the time, effort, money, space being sacrificed. The experiences of all involved, form the ritual. It’s hard to miss. It is more than decadence. It exceeds plain hedonism. There is a transcendent quality to experiencing a concert with others. Either in the audience or on stage.

An open mind yearns for this real and true experience. For those people this always trumps Hedonism. This also means that people who follow trends for the sheer act of the following itself, can never be a part of any true art. It is so fundamentally un-hip that it can never be a part of any kind of trend. Sure, you will see bits and pieces of extreme music culture used in more mainstream expression, but the people that actually make the art, undertake the journey, and do the exploration, are rarely considered hip. They are maybe considered eccentric, visionary, and genius. More often: Weird, annoying, and loud. Never trendy.

As with any form of art, extreme music is only doing itself justice, is only executing its categorical imperative, when it does not follow the beaten path. That is not to say it can not pay homage, or take inspiration from other art, of course. Yet it must always lead and make its own decisions, as true art should.

Until The End #

And this is what brings me to my conclusion. I pose that extreme music is fascinating to people exactly because it is so unkempt. It is chaotic and raw, and that gives it a recognizable humanity. It is experimentation, both emotionally and technically. It is defining what art can be, or become. It is many things, but above all it is real. It is a real connection to people that are experiencing the same things. That is why people spend all their money on it. That is why they travel thousands of miles to go to festivals. That is why they spend their waking hours listening to, and buying music.

It goes so much deeper with people who love extreme music than with people who listen and experience mainstream music. It goes deeper because it cuts deeper, in all aspects of the experience.

There is a strange beauty in the fact that people spend way too much effort on the participation in art. Once you have it, there is no real cure. It will haunt you and become part of you. It will never leave you. You might hate everything and everyone —especially those people in the scene— but it is a ritual you can not live without.

The sense of personal power and freedom channeled in extreme music is what attracts and mesmerizes. It can lead some people to believe it is a commodity to be acquired. That may seem obvious because art can be owned via works or via recordings and merchandise, but the true value lies in the exploration. In its effect on the listener, in the bridging of the gap. It lies less with the aesthetics of the art, as it does with the implementation of the transmitted ideas. That can never truly become a commodity, since it requires your own personal journey.

I greet my fellow travelers: May your noise be loud, your drones be heavy, and your metal be black as the pit.