I have a deep admiration for Morton Feldman, one of the avant-garde composers of the 20th century. I’ve read his book "Give My Regards to Eighth Street: Collected Writings of Morton Feldman" twice and listened to his compositions with deep appreciation. I’m especially fascinated by the fact that he composed a string quartet in the mid-1980s that lasts six hours.
While reading his book, I noted down a passage that stuck with me: “Although world music has blended with other musical styles thanks to technological advancement, it’s now difficult to find anyone who performs purely traditional music.”
After Feldman’s book, I read "Improvisation" by Derek Bailey. The quote I had jotted down immediately came to mind when I encountered this passage from Bailey: “‘New music,’ after escaping the serious cultural hostility that marked the 1980s, took on a completely different appearance – almost like donning armor, perhaps in the belief that this would be more appropriate for the times. The dominant keywords now are: management, repetition, return to the past, revival and the ever-present prefixes ‘neo-’ and ‘post-,’ and above all: accessibility.'”
A similar impression was left on me by a line from David Hendy’s "Noise: A Human History of Sound and Listening": “People are retuning their ears.”
These three voices – Feldman, Bailey and Hendy – though coming from different perspectives, seem to converge on one idea: that music is changing and not always for the better.
Composers who adopt modern approaches often fail to realize they may be impoverishing the music. Music transforms every 20 to 30 years – or even more rapidly now. The number of musicians performing traditional music has significantly decreased around the world. Music is becoming increasingly modernized and driven by the logic of “create, produce, consume.” Our ears are constantly being “retuned.” At this rate, I fear they may eventually give up altogether.
One of the most beautiful definitions distinguishing the traditional from the modern may come from my beloved composer Gustav Mahler, who once said: “Tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire.”
As technology continues to advance, music – like all forms of art – is undergoing a transformation. Before the advent of recording technology, music belonged solely to those who could write or perform it. Once a composer records their music, it is no longer theirs alone – it becomes accessible to listeners all over the world.
However, the rapid advancement of technology has prioritized quantity over quality. As technology speeds us up, it causes us to overlook the details more often. For example, the average viewing time of Instagram Reels videos has dropped to as low as 20 seconds.
Today, music can even be composed by robots and artificial intelligence. Yet it's important to remember: Even with a device implanted in our heads, we wouldn’t become musicians the moment we picked up an instrument. No AI or robot could ever replicate Keith Jarrett’s performance in his Köln Concert. In that album, you can hear the full color and depth of jazz.
Over time, I believe AI and computer-generated music will reach an existential dead-end; they may already be heading there. Music is born from emotion. When technology makes something easier, it often buries many alternatives in darkness. Technology plays a major role in why we listen to music that no longer pleases the ear. It’s not just the sound that changes with technology – but also our perception of sound.
