If classical music is not live, you can still hear it on your home stereo equipment or through headphones on your portable media device, it just may not be quite as cool.

Not part of a live performance. Or a balanced breakfast.

Succinct title is succinct.

Over the course of the last week, there has been a discussion about live music versus recordings spurred on by some very engaging posts over at On an Overgrown Path, with the general consensus being summed up by the title of the initial post: “If classical music is not live it is dead.”  Here is a brief excerpt from the post:

To date classical music has actively courted new technology as a desirable and superior partner. But is it not time to rethink this position and start driving home the message that anything other than live music is actually a poor substitute? Marketing and social media could play a big part in the call to action in the concert hall. How about aggressive collegiate marketing campaigns for live music built around straplines such as ‘Test drive a concert hall’, ‘Live classical music is louder than your iPod’, ‘Play an instrument not Facebook’ and ‘If classical music is not live it is dead’. And why not attention getting offers such as discounted concert tickets for anyone trading in iPod earbuds?

Several of the comments have taken it a step further, essentially claiming that recordings have little or no value and that any and all marketing energies ought to go towards the promotion of live performances.  There is talk of the communal and social aspect of a performance, the unreasonable expectation created by recordings for “perfect” performances, etc.  With all the concern over fidelity of sound, purity of intent, and true realization of musical concept, it seems that one fundamental element has been missing.  If Shostakovich is performed in Moscow and I live in Kansas City, did it really make a sound?

It’s Friday, Friday, time to bury our head in our hands in a display of frustration and sadness; fun, fun, fun, fun…

I used to watch Tosh.0 back when we had cable.  I appreciate the concept of the show: someone else slogging their way through the bowels of the internet in search of the funniest and most insane videos out there so I don’t have to.  Since we’ve made the move to simply using Netflix or Hulu or whatever to watch television through our computer, I haven’t seen the show in some time.  If I had, I would have seen this:

A lament for the record store

Hey, remember these?

Life in the Digital Age has provided us with many wonderful things.  We are now capable of learning and sharing cultures with people across the planet.  IBM just created a computer that beat the two greatest Jeopardy champions of all-time and will now go to work assisting in the diagnosis of medical conditions.  It has never been easier to view pornography or videos of creepy pseudo-midgets lip synching Katy Perry songs.  Perhaps best of all, the growth of technology has made music accessible through a series of keystrokes, mouse-clicks, and frustrated whimpering about download speeds and servers.

The curse of the modern composer

Just a couple bros. Hanging out. Having a smoke. Ushering in the complete destruction of the tonal system of music.

Alex Ross had an interesting piece in The Guardian this week called simply, “Why do we hate modern classical music?” In it, he explores the myriad explanations for why contemporary classical music continues to be unpopular.  Contemporary is a bit of a misnomer, as there are references to the Second Viennese School, Britten, Ligeti, etc., but it’s better than saying “the music that no one wants to hear” and I respect that.