Empire of the Sun

After a short hiatus, I'm back at work on more musical matters. First is a new album ...album? EP? CD? Are these terms meaningful anymore in the digital download age? Anyway, it's a composition of integrated notes and themes and motifs, will that do? They actually are related in a symphonic way, a study in classical writing...no, not classical writing...it's 2008, so it's not really "classical," is it? But it is orchestral...except that there is no orchestra, just one man and a lot of circuits...but I do play all the parts by hand, so there. Ahem, anyway, musically speaking, think of a great spaghetti western in the sky as the space cowboy sets the controls for the heart of the sunrise...

Also planned is the release of the "black box" recordings," lost tales of the Space Cadet in his sojourns into darker territory, Borg-like planets of metallic industrial goings-on. 

More on this as I find my way back from wherever it is I am...

"Something for Nothing..."

"You can't get something for nothing, you can't have freedom for free..."

So Radiohead have just released IN RAINBOWS, their first new album since, what, 2003? And the hype this time is that there's no record contract, no label, just them and their website and the "pay what you will" option. 

I wonder how much time Thom Yorke has spent studying economics. Do they really think this is a viable option, or is it a gimmick? Considering that they are charging for the "discboxes," I think it's safe to say they understand that material goods need some kind of objective pricing, at least to cover the cost of manufacturing. But sticking with the downloads, they are doing an interesting experiment, to be sure, one that challenges the very notions of intellectual property and capitalism in general. Adam Smith, perhaps the first person to systemize economics back in the 1700's with THE WEALTH OF NATIONS, talked about how wage earners were paid not by their need or labor, but by the importance or nonimportance of their jobs. (Overly simplified, but I'm not about to turn this into a history blog, do your own damn homework! ;)). 

Radiohead seem to be taking this to heart; since there is no manufacturing for an mp3, they are letting the fans determine the value of the music, no matter how much blood, sweat, and tears went into the making of the music. No matter how many hours of writing, recording, fighting, swearing, loving went into the creation of the music. Is this pure, unselfish altruism on behalf of Radiohead? Given their endorsement of NO LOGO and such, they play the part well. (But look at another bleeding heart, Roger Waters. Like Radiohead, he campaigns to "forgive the debt" of third world nations. He says this as a multimillionaire who never gave away his millions, and certainly charges a pretty penny for his return to stadium shows.) And is this a viable path for bands and artists who have not had the commercial success that Radiohead have already attained? 

Can Radiohead really survive by playing the "shmoo?" (Look it up.)

Much has been written in the past about the record companies and their predatory practices, but it has to be said that Radiohead got to the position they are at now through those same companies. But the main argument for years is that the artists saw little from cd sales, and that the internet would give the artist more money per cd/album/download. So it's not without some irony that Radiohead would allow fans to pay nothing, if that's what they chose. 

BUT, there may be something that we're all overlooking. Alvin Toffler, author of FUTURE SHOCK, has a relatively new book called REVOLUTIONARY WEALTH, dealing with the issues of intellectual property in the digital age, and the progression/evoltion of the consumer into "prosumers." (Look it up.) Anyway, the idea is that intellectual wealth of ideas, unlike material goods, is not diminished when shared, but expanded, because people are able to take those ideas and create more ideas. It's the basic idea behind freeware like Linux. If Homer shares a donut, he has less donut, and Homer is sad. But if Homer has a recipe for donuts, and shares that donut recipe, more people can make donuts, and more donuts for Homer. MMM...donuts. Donuts become a commodity. Same with music. 

But those overnight donutmakers still have to pay for the ingredients: flour, icing, sprinkles, purple stuff...for now, until we have Star-Trek inspired matter deliminators, we are bound by the laws of supply and demand. And Radiohead are still bound by the laws of physics: how much of their effort can they give away for free before they either have to sell themselves via tours and discboxes, or get dayjobs like the rest of the starving artists? Even Linus Torvals has a job elsewhere...

The Birth of the Spaceplayer

Wow, it's been 40 years since Pink Floyd released THE PIPER AT THE GATES OF DAWN, and I've been listening for at least 30 years of it. I started early. Hippy parents will do that to ya. 

I can remember being at least 4 and hearing Pink Floyd, along with all the other bands that came to be known as classic rock (and being scared of Frankie Valley's voice...). Floyd is the one that stuck out for me. I don't know why, but they did. In '79 I can remember hearing ANIMALS, the slow guitar solo of "Dogs" made me want to be a guitar player. When THE WALL came out, my sister and I would be in the back seat of the car when "Brick in the Wall" pt. 2 came on the radio, and we misinterpreted the lines..."No Dukes of Hazzard in the Classroom...." and of course, "don't kick your feet, you can't have any pudding..." as we proceded to kick each other, as mom threatened to turn this car around...

Then the 80's hit, and with it, mom's taste in music changed (Boy George, Janet Jackson?). MTV came along, and rap, and I fell into rap in a big way (Beastie Boys, Run DMC.) Of course, there was no Floyd at the time, 'til '87 or so. I can remember being about 13 when we moved from Deptford to Vineland, and being around the hippie uncles playing "Meddle" on a stormy night. First memory, was fear. "One Of These Days," indeed! Some people call the next two songs, "A Pillow of Winds" and "Fearless" fluff, but I think they were much needed after the threat of being cut into little pieces! "San Tropez" made me feel safer; for some reason, I imagined Garfield the Cat singing it. And "Seamus" was good for a laugh, finally bringing on "Echoes," possibly the greatest thing ever to reach those 13 year old's ears. To this day, it's still my favorite Floyd piece, and possibly favorite song ever.

From there I delved into the entire catalogue, and never looked back. To this day, Floyd is the only band who's every album I liked. Even Ummagumma. ;) Even the solo albums (ok, I still haven't heard Zee's IDENTITY, and wasn't crazy about PROFILES, but loved FICTITIOUS SPORTS and the Syd stuff. And Dave and Roger both released great albums, IMHO.)

The Syd period, though...there's something special about PIPER, the sense of possibility, the childlike magic of Syd at his peak. Rather than choose sides, I see the whole catalog as integrated, the magic of Syd was a mirror of every child's optimism. And the loss of Roger's father mirrored my own dad's suicide...the whole Spaceplayer theme is based on these two factors, the search for my father's spirit in the stars. In a way, I compare my father to Syd, since when I was four I was told that my father became a star in the sky.

The first lyrics I wrote for Spaceplayer reflected this. They were initially about Syd, and as I wrote them, I realized the relevance I attached to my father:

"You reached for the stars, 
but they burned out thousands of years ago, 
leaving you with only a glimpse of what might have been...
But it was too late to turn around...
You were captivated by the sound...

And all the dreams we had, 
disillusioned by the illusion,
the dream you could no longer see...
the dream gave way to reality...

Deep down inside, 
You know that it could have been better...
It wasn't supposed to be this way!
What can I say to change things now? 
Now that all is said and done...

You're emptiness was visibly
a mirror of your reality,
and now you're lost in space, 
the endless sea..."

I looked to the sky every night since. And Floyd was the soundtrack, and my copilot. 
The child who looked to the skies for potential, but also the reminder of the black holes that pull in the light of even the brightest eyes. It's a dual tension, the same star I see shining burned out before I was born. It's a gift, and a warning. "Better to burn out than to fade away?" 

How does one deal with this dance between the stars and the darkness?
Ultimately, I'm reminded of a line by Ayn Rand:

"In the name of the best within you, do not sacrifice this world to those who are its worst. In the name of the values that keep you alive, do not let your vision of man be distorted by the ugly, the cowardly, the mindless in those who have never achieved his title. Do not lose your knowledge that man's proper estate is an upright posture, an intransigent mind and a step that travels unlimited roads. Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish, in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach. Check your road and the nature of your battle. The world you desired can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it's yours."

I wish Syd had been able to read those words, even more, I wish my dad had. They're gone now. I'm still here. The Spaceplayer is a symbol of this choice, the choice we all face: either sink into the black hole of despair, or... we can Shine on...