[11] Another example of metrical dissonance in rock is provided by John Covach, who discusses the presentation, development, and eventual resolution of a metrical dissonance across the course of Yes's song "Close to the Edge." Examples of metrical dissonance are also easily found in jazz. For the purposes of the present discussion, then, the significance of these metrical phenomena lies not in the mere fact of their occurrence in electronic dance music, but rather in the distinctive ways in which they are used. For instance, consider how the metrical dissonances described above are situated within the larger works of which they are a part. In the EDM examples, metrical dissonance almost always occurs as part of a process unfolding continuously in real time. In comparison, in the examples discussed by Headlam and Covach, related metrical dissonances are generally separated from each other temporally, sometimes by rather considerable distances (for instance, the time interval between the second and third appearance of the dissonance in "Close to the Edge" is approximately 9 minutes). After their initial presentations, their implications and inherent tensions are developed in various ways, as might occur with a motive in a Classical work. The exploration of motivic possibilities is also a well-known feature of jazz improvisation, and Cynthia Folio's examples can be understood in these terms.In electronic dance music, on the other hand, the emphasis is not so much on the long-range exploration of a motive's possibilities as it is on producing an immediate and striking effect--either to create a point of formal articulation (as in Example 1b, in which the resolution of the opening metrical dissonance coincides with the beginning of the work's first groove), or to introduce an element of surprise (as in Example 2, in which an otherwise straightforward textural buildup is complicated by the introduction of a displacement dissonance).
[12] Furthermore, while the types of metrical dissonance discussed by Krebs can occur in many different repertoires, they are particularly relevant to electronic dance music for a number of reasons. As discussed above, the Yeston/Krebs model conceptualizes meter as the union of several layers of motion. As in the music of Robert Schumann (the composer upon whom Krebs has focused most extensively), these layers are particularly clear in electronic dance music. They often appear as discrete elements of the texture, individuated by timbre, register, and pattern repetition. For instance, in a 4/4 meter, one might find one part of the texture articulating a quarter-note pulse, another moving primarily in eighth notes, and a third emphasizing the whole-note layer, with each element being registrally and timbrally distinct. Dissonant layers usually stand out clearly as well.
[13] The situation just described might not seem all that unusual in and of itself. In electronic dance music, however, this layered approach to metrical construction is further emphasized by the relative equality of its textural layers. No single voice dominates the texture: in contrast to the vast majority of commercial popular music produced in America and Europe since the advent of rock-n-roll, EDM is not vocal music; in general, its only verbal elements are short, fragmentary samples. Neither does it replace solo voices with instrumental ones: unlike a great deal of classical (and other) instrumental music, it does not as a general rule employ melody-and-accompaniment textures.
[14] Layering is also absolutely essential to the way electronic dance music is recorded and performed. In the studio, EDM is produced in a multi-channel environment, which allows all of its sound sources to be controlled independently, so that layers of motion can be combined in a variety of interesting ways. Of course, this technology is not limited to EDM; in fact, it is commonplace in contemporary popular music. In most pop traditions, however, audiences expect performers to be able to produce reasonable facsimiles of their recordings in live performance, a factor that may limit the complexity of metrical dissonance. This is not the case in EDM, though. In this repertoire, a completely different tradition of live performance exists, one in which DJs, rather than studio artists, take center stage. For the most part, records are treated not as finished products but as raw material for manipulation by the DJ. While the music that one hears at a nightclub or a rave originates in the studio, records are rarely heard in their original studio-produced forms. Instead, they are manipulated and combined with other records in a real-time process that produces substantially different compositions. The DJ uses turntables to play two or more records at once and a mixing board to control the balance between the records (one record is usually more prominent). The mixing board also allows the DJ to control the high, middle, and low range of each record, which makes it possible to manipulate layers within as well as between records. This capability facilitates the real-time creation of displacement dissonances like those seen in Examples 1a/1b and 2 (which are taken from studio-produced recordings). For instance, reinterpretations (cf. Example 2b) can be created by playing a pattern such as that found in Example 2a on one record, then bringing in the bass drum of another record on the offbeats. The lower, more resonant bass drum sound "turns the beat around," but the first pattern persists, thereby producing a displacement dissonance. Conversely, given a situation like that of Example 2c, the DJ might use the high- and low-range controls to remove the bass drum and high synth pattern, thus calling a seemingly clear metrical interpretation into question.
[15] Thus, while a layered conception of musical meter can be applied to many different repertoires, it is particularly well suited to electronic dance music, in which a layered approach is fundamental to musical construction. As we have seen, this approach manifests itself in a variety of ways: in techniques of performance and production, in the connection between metrical and textural layers, and in the relative equality of textural layers. In fact, this last feature promotes another distinctive characteristic of this repertoire: in many cases, especially near the beginning of a track, there is no definitive accentual interpretation of a passage. Examples 1 and 2 demonstrate this phenomenon quite clearly. In Example 1a, as previously discussed, it is unclear which layer is metrical and which is antimetrical; in Example 2, a layer that is suggested as metrical eventually turns out to be antimetrical. The absence of a definite interpretation in such situations encourages the listener to experiment with different interpretations. In repetitive music such as EDM, this ambiguity often plays a crucial role in the creation of musical interest. In fact, Steve Reich has noted a similar phenomenon in minimalist music. Of his own music, he says: "If I compose music that is to use repeating patterns and is also to remain interesting I must build in rhythmic ambiguity to make it possible for the ear to hear a given pattern beginning and ending in different places depending on slight differences of accent and on how one listens."
[16] In the previous examples, ambiguity was created by the interaction of two or more patterns. As Reich's statement suggests, however, individual patterns can also beinherently ambiguous. In fact, extreme simplicity often promotes such ambiguity. For example, consider the TICK-tock-TICK-tock-TICK-tock pattern of a clock. By focusing on the "tock," one can easily hear the opposite accentual pattern: tick-TOCK-tick-TOCK-tick-TOCK.
[17] This type of ambiguity also figures prominently in electronic dance music. As an example, let us consider another track by Underworld. This song, entitled "Moaner," begins with a drumbeat articulating a steady quarter-note pulse; between these beats, a synthesizer plays three sixteenth notes, as shown in Example 3a. It seems probable that the drumbeat, being louder and longer in duration, would play the primary role in determining the accentual pattern. The synthesizer sound also attracts attention, however, by changing timbrally and dynamically, while the sound of the drumbeat does not vary. As one focuses on the synthesizer sound, one can hear an accent on the second sixteenth note of the pattern, as shown in Example 3b. It is also possible to hear an accent on the third sixteenth, as seen in Example 3c. This last hearing begins to be especially noticeable after about fourteen seconds of the song. At this point, the timbre of the sound begins to change, as a process called a filter sweep, which gradually begins to emphasize the upper partials, is applied to it. The sound crescendos at the same time. Underworld also draws attention to the sound changes by altering the drum pattern very slightly just before the changes begin.
[18] In a sense, the interpretations shown in Examples 3b and 3c create displacement dissonances with the drumbeat. These dissonances differ from the one heard in Example 2c, however, since they are created by the reinterpretation of an already-sounding pattern, rather than by the entrance of a new pattern. As such, they are inherently more fragile: if one focuses too much on the drumbeat, the new interpretations of the synthesizer pattern seem to fade away.
[19] In addition to highlighting the ambiguity found in these examples, I have tried to emphasize the way that accentual and/or metrical interpretations evolve or emerge while one listens to them. In this respect, I am inspired by the work of Christopher Hasty and Gretchen Horlacher, who have captured this quality of musical experience very effectively in their approaches to meter. For instance, Hasty writes that "a piece of music, while it is going on, is incomplete and not fully determinate--while it is going on, it is open, indeterminate, and in the process of becoming a piece of music." The processual quality that Hasty describes is particularly noticeable in electronic dance music. As in minimalist and other types of repetitive music, processes unfold very gradually in EDM. Patterns are repeated for long periods of time. For example, in "Moaner," the patterns heard in Example 3 repeat almost constantly throughout the length of the song--approximately 7-1/2 minutes. Such repetition is an asset in minimal music, since it gives the listener time to rehearse different rhythmic interpretations. Although other sounds enter throughout the course of the song, masking the original, accentually indeterminate pattern, it continues to be heard beneath the surface, giving the entire song an aura of instability.
[20] We have now heard several examples of the rhythmic and metrical phenomena that occur in electronic dance music, including displacement dissonances and various types of ambiguity. In the next portion of this paper, I will focus on another feature--namely, the use of asymmetrical patterns. Although I will begin by looking at two musical examples, the majority of my discussion will focus on certain broader questions of rhythmic and metrical theory. I will highlight the issues raised by EDM's asymmetrical patterns and will suggest some approaches that are particularly useful for dealing with them.
[12] Furthermore, while the types of metrical dissonance discussed by Krebs can occur in many different repertoires, they are particularly relevant to electronic dance music for a number of reasons. As discussed above, the Yeston/Krebs model conceptualizes meter as the union of several layers of motion. As in the music of Robert Schumann (the composer upon whom Krebs has focused most extensively), these layers are particularly clear in electronic dance music. They often appear as discrete elements of the texture, individuated by timbre, register, and pattern repetition. For instance, in a 4/4 meter, one might find one part of the texture articulating a quarter-note pulse, another moving primarily in eighth notes, and a third emphasizing the whole-note layer, with each element being registrally and timbrally distinct. Dissonant layers usually stand out clearly as well.
[13] The situation just described might not seem all that unusual in and of itself. In electronic dance music, however, this layered approach to metrical construction is further emphasized by the relative equality of its textural layers. No single voice dominates the texture: in contrast to the vast majority of commercial popular music produced in America and Europe since the advent of rock-n-roll, EDM is not vocal music; in general, its only verbal elements are short, fragmentary samples. Neither does it replace solo voices with instrumental ones: unlike a great deal of classical (and other) instrumental music, it does not as a general rule employ melody-and-accompaniment textures.
[14] Layering is also absolutely essential to the way electronic dance music is recorded and performed. In the studio, EDM is produced in a multi-channel environment, which allows all of its sound sources to be controlled independently, so that layers of motion can be combined in a variety of interesting ways. Of course, this technology is not limited to EDM; in fact, it is commonplace in contemporary popular music. In most pop traditions, however, audiences expect performers to be able to produce reasonable facsimiles of their recordings in live performance, a factor that may limit the complexity of metrical dissonance. This is not the case in EDM, though. In this repertoire, a completely different tradition of live performance exists, one in which DJs, rather than studio artists, take center stage. For the most part, records are treated not as finished products but as raw material for manipulation by the DJ. While the music that one hears at a nightclub or a rave originates in the studio, records are rarely heard in their original studio-produced forms. Instead, they are manipulated and combined with other records in a real-time process that produces substantially different compositions. The DJ uses turntables to play two or more records at once and a mixing board to control the balance between the records (one record is usually more prominent). The mixing board also allows the DJ to control the high, middle, and low range of each record, which makes it possible to manipulate layers within as well as between records. This capability facilitates the real-time creation of displacement dissonances like those seen in Examples 1a/1b and 2 (which are taken from studio-produced recordings). For instance, reinterpretations (cf. Example 2b) can be created by playing a pattern such as that found in Example 2a on one record, then bringing in the bass drum of another record on the offbeats. The lower, more resonant bass drum sound "turns the beat around," but the first pattern persists, thereby producing a displacement dissonance. Conversely, given a situation like that of Example 2c, the DJ might use the high- and low-range controls to remove the bass drum and high synth pattern, thus calling a seemingly clear metrical interpretation into question.
[15] Thus, while a layered conception of musical meter can be applied to many different repertoires, it is particularly well suited to electronic dance music, in which a layered approach is fundamental to musical construction. As we have seen, this approach manifests itself in a variety of ways: in techniques of performance and production, in the connection between metrical and textural layers, and in the relative equality of textural layers. In fact, this last feature promotes another distinctive characteristic of this repertoire: in many cases, especially near the beginning of a track, there is no definitive accentual interpretation of a passage. Examples 1 and 2 demonstrate this phenomenon quite clearly. In Example 1a, as previously discussed, it is unclear which layer is metrical and which is antimetrical; in Example 2, a layer that is suggested as metrical eventually turns out to be antimetrical. The absence of a definite interpretation in such situations encourages the listener to experiment with different interpretations. In repetitive music such as EDM, this ambiguity often plays a crucial role in the creation of musical interest. In fact, Steve Reich has noted a similar phenomenon in minimalist music. Of his own music, he says: "If I compose music that is to use repeating patterns and is also to remain interesting I must build in rhythmic ambiguity to make it possible for the ear to hear a given pattern beginning and ending in different places depending on slight differences of accent and on how one listens."
[16] In the previous examples, ambiguity was created by the interaction of two or more patterns. As Reich's statement suggests, however, individual patterns can also beinherently ambiguous. In fact, extreme simplicity often promotes such ambiguity. For example, consider the TICK-tock-TICK-tock-TICK-tock pattern of a clock. By focusing on the "tock," one can easily hear the opposite accentual pattern: tick-TOCK-tick-TOCK-tick-TOCK.
[17] This type of ambiguity also figures prominently in electronic dance music. As an example, let us consider another track by Underworld. This song, entitled "Moaner," begins with a drumbeat articulating a steady quarter-note pulse; between these beats, a synthesizer plays three sixteenth notes, as shown in Example 3a. It seems probable that the drumbeat, being louder and longer in duration, would play the primary role in determining the accentual pattern. The synthesizer sound also attracts attention, however, by changing timbrally and dynamically, while the sound of the drumbeat does not vary. As one focuses on the synthesizer sound, one can hear an accent on the second sixteenth note of the pattern, as shown in Example 3b. It is also possible to hear an accent on the third sixteenth, as seen in Example 3c. This last hearing begins to be especially noticeable after about fourteen seconds of the song. At this point, the timbre of the sound begins to change, as a process called a filter sweep, which gradually begins to emphasize the upper partials, is applied to it. The sound crescendos at the same time. Underworld also draws attention to the sound changes by altering the drum pattern very slightly just before the changes begin.
[18] In a sense, the interpretations shown in Examples 3b and 3c create displacement dissonances with the drumbeat. These dissonances differ from the one heard in Example 2c, however, since they are created by the reinterpretation of an already-sounding pattern, rather than by the entrance of a new pattern. As such, they are inherently more fragile: if one focuses too much on the drumbeat, the new interpretations of the synthesizer pattern seem to fade away.
[19] In addition to highlighting the ambiguity found in these examples, I have tried to emphasize the way that accentual and/or metrical interpretations evolve or emerge while one listens to them. In this respect, I am inspired by the work of Christopher Hasty and Gretchen Horlacher, who have captured this quality of musical experience very effectively in their approaches to meter. For instance, Hasty writes that "a piece of music, while it is going on, is incomplete and not fully determinate--while it is going on, it is open, indeterminate, and in the process of becoming a piece of music." The processual quality that Hasty describes is particularly noticeable in electronic dance music. As in minimalist and other types of repetitive music, processes unfold very gradually in EDM. Patterns are repeated for long periods of time. For example, in "Moaner," the patterns heard in Example 3 repeat almost constantly throughout the length of the song--approximately 7-1/2 minutes. Such repetition is an asset in minimal music, since it gives the listener time to rehearse different rhythmic interpretations. Although other sounds enter throughout the course of the song, masking the original, accentually indeterminate pattern, it continues to be heard beneath the surface, giving the entire song an aura of instability.
[20] We have now heard several examples of the rhythmic and metrical phenomena that occur in electronic dance music, including displacement dissonances and various types of ambiguity. In the next portion of this paper, I will focus on another feature--namely, the use of asymmetrical patterns. Although I will begin by looking at two musical examples, the majority of my discussion will focus on certain broader questions of rhythmic and metrical theory. I will highlight the issues raised by EDM's asymmetrical patterns and will suggest some approaches that are particularly useful for dealing with them.
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