Music is a universal thing. Everybody knows it when they hear it, and it branches out into countless different styles, reaching every individual in a unique and original way. It has been around since time began and it will be around until the end of time itself. And yet, while everybody knows what it is, I think that everybody interprets it differently, and I think that this interpretation is based on each individual’s experience of the musical reality. I feel that tonight I got a glimpse of the true extent of the spectrum of individual musical experience.
I discovered that music is experienced on a number of different levels. I postulate that the simplest level is just the notion of sound itself, regardless of its quality. As you go up the range of levels, you notice a more precise system of recognition of individual sounds – easily discerning subtle pitch differences between two sounds, for example, and the basics for being able to play a musical instrument. I think a further step is to be able to replicate this sound (if not in a beautiful singing voice, at least while humming it to yourself).
Well, I can do this (well, maybe not the singing beautifully part), but I have always been able to do it. I thought everyone was like this. It feels almost like a sense. It’s as though every sound that is made is a musical note in itself. To me, hearing the difference between any two sounds as easy as discerning a spaceship from a bicycle. Similarly, the difference between hearing the same person say some words once normally, and once again with a slightly different pitch of voice is as clear as water.
Everything I hear is always instantaneously translated into a musical spectrum. My attention will always be immediately drawn to the fact that the heater makes a hum at a pitch x degrees higher than the hum of the fridge. I can “see” the interval between the two sounds in musical terms. When I was young, I used to hum along to the sound of the vacuum cleaner, finally being able to replicate it so precisely that while I did it I could feel a strange echoey reverberation in my eardrums.
As I said, I thought everyone did this to the same extent as I did – in other words, I thought the musical experience was the same for everyone. But after observation and discussion, I can only come to the conclusion that it’s not.
When I listen to my favourite artists, I sometimes get overwhelmed by the feeling of “understanding” them. I feel like those artists must have a similar musical experience to me, and I am drawn to their music because it communicates with me in a very personal way. It is not just about style – by which I mean hip-hop, pop, classical etc., as I can feel it to varying degrees with music over a range of styles (of course I have my favourites), rather, it is just a feeling of connection, and hand in hand with that is a strong feeling of satisfaction.
I feel like I can liken this to an experience of Alex’s. He has synesthesia – a condition whereby words and thoughts are “seen” or “felt” as colours in one’s mind. I find it utterly amazing that he can remember the score in games of table tennis because of the colour association that he makes with the score (i.e. a score of 10-8 has a different colour sensation to a score of 9-11). Well, it sounds like an experience in some ways similar to how I feel about sounds – an unconscious recognition, a “feeling” for it, like it’s natural.
I guess I may have been naïve (or just not paying attention) in my high school days. Having attended a school with a music specialty, I was required to perform in little mini-concerts for my class – of course, I played the piano. I always took it for granted that I would be able to have done absolutely zero preparation for these things, preferring instead to just play what I play whenever I play at home. While there were others in the class that had to stop halfway through their song because “they hadn’t learnt it all yet”, I would just play a TV theme song that I worked out by ear in 20 minutes at home the day before. If that was the case, why did I never really realise that what I did was in some way different to others? Was it a self-imposed tall poppy syndrome? Did I, in my younger days, feel reserved about showing off what talent I had because I feared lowering my interlocutor’s self-esteem? Who knows. Not me. I doubt even God knows. But looking back on it now, it seems blatant. I could do it with ease, so I did. Nowadays, I often find myself singing in my head – I’ll be half way through a song by the time I realise I’m doing it, and then I’ll break out singing mid-sentence and puzzle all those around me.
So, I now invite discussion into this topic. How do you describe your musical experiences? What connection is made when you listen to music? What part of you does it touch? Does it permeate your entire body, and resonate deep within your soul? Do you, like me, experience the world as one very large, detailed song? As though music is flowing around you all the time, coming out of everything and everyone?
UPDATE: Oh my god! Immediately after writing about this I explored the site I linked above (this one, about synesthesia), when a branch of it was talking about this "Musical Animation Machine". Someone has written a program that is remarkably close to what goes on in my brain! I definitely hope you will check it out - what happens in these movies is a pretty accurate representation of what my experience is of every sound I hear.
UPDATE II: In response to a slight misunderstanding, I would like to make it clear that the similarity between what I see in my mind and this Music Animation Program is not the colours, but the sense of "intervals" between sounds. On another note, today Alex asked me a question about this program - whether, when two notes are played together, I can hear both of them. The answer is yes, but of course when that number gets higher than three or four it can get a bit difficult ;)
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