How Music Works

“Opportunity and availability are often the mother of invention.”

Byrne uses a variation of the familiar adage “necessity is the mother of invention” to emphasize the pragmatic aspects of creativity. This paraphrase introduces the idea that artistic creation is not solely an internal, emotional process but is also significantly influenced by external factors like opportunity and availability. The choice of words like “opportunity” and “availability” shifts the focus from internal drive to external circumstance, highlighting the adaptability and practicality inherent in the creative process.

“Performing must have seemed like my only option. There was also the remote possibility that I would briefly be the hero and reap some social and personal rewards in other areas beyond mere communication, though I doubt I would have admitted that to myself.”

This quote reflects Byrne’s introspective nature and his journey toward self-understanding. It reveals a contrast between his public persona and personal insecurities. Byrne’s use of hindsight (“I doubt I would have admitted that to myself”) adds a layer of reflective depth, indicating a more mature perspective on his younger self. This introspection provides a window into the complex motivations behind a performer’s choice to embrace the spotlight, blending the desire for artistic expression with the allure of social recognition.

“It was mathematics; when you subtract all that unwanted stuff from something, art or music, what do you have left? Who knows? With the objectionable bits removed, does it then become more ‘real’? More honest? I don’t think so anymore.”

This quote captures Byrne’s philosophical contemplation on the essence of art and authenticity. The rhetorical questions and use of analogy (“It was mathematics”) emphasize his evolving understanding of artistic integrity. Byrne challenges the notion that stripping art to its bare essentials necessarily leads to a purer form, suggesting instead that such minimalism might not equate to greater authenticity. This perspective invites readers to reconsider traditional views on what constitutes “real” art, highlighting the subjective nature of artistic value and truth.

“It’s not as if one can shift music, visual art, dance, or spoken word like pieces in a Tetris game until each art form plops into its perfect place, but it does give one the idea that some juggling of contexts might not hurt either.”

In this metaphorical reflection, Byrne addresses the fluid boundaries between different art forms. By comparing the rearrangement of artistic elements to a game of Tetris, he suggests that while there isn’t always a perfect alignment in art, experimentation with various contexts can yield unexpected and beneficial results. This statement embodies Byrne’s experimental approach to his work, illustrating his belief in the dynamic interplay between different artistic mediums. The Tetris analogy conveys the concept of adaptability and transformation in art, reflecting Byrne’s willingness to explore uncharted territories in his performances.

“As Walter Murch, the sound editor and film director, said, ‘Music was the main poetic metaphor for that which could not be preserved.’”

This quote encapsulates the ephemeral nature of music before the advent of recording technology. Byrne uses Walter Murch’s words to highlight the transformational impact of recording on music. The metaphor of music as something fleeting and uncatchable underscores the radical shift that occurred when technology began to “preserve” music, altering its very essence from an impermanent art form to a tangible, replayable commodity.

“Just as photography changed the way we see, recording technology changed the way we hear.”

This simile draws a parallel between the impact of photography on visual perception and that of recording technology on auditory perception. Byrne is highlighting a fundamental shift in sensory experience brought about by technological advancements. This comparison encapsulates the transformative power of recording technology, emphasizing its significance in altering human interaction with music, akin to how photography revolutionized visual memory and observation.

“Before recorded music became ubiquitous, music was, for most people, something we did. Many people had pianos in their homes, sang at religious services, or experienced music as part of a live audience. All those experiences were ephemeral—nothing lingered, nothing remained except for your memory (or your friends’ memories) of what you heard and felt.”

This statement reflects the shift from music as an active, participatory experience to a more passive one due to the advent of recording technology. The past tense “did” underscores a lost era in which engagement with music was more communal and interactive. Byrne laments the transition from music being an integral, shared part of daily life to becoming a product for consumption, suggesting a loss of communal creativity and involvement.

“Recording is far from an objective acoustic mirror, but it pretends to be like magic—a perfectly faithful and unbiased representation of the sonic act that occurred out there in the world.”

Byrne’s perspective here is critical in understanding the complex relationship between recorded sound and reality. This quote examines the illusion of recording as a perfect replica of live sound, exposing the inherent subjectivity in the process. It challenges the listener’s perception, suggesting that recordings, while seemingly accurate, are colored by various factors.

“The technology that allowed sound information (and, soon thereafter, all other information) to be digitized was largely developed by the phone company.”

This quote emphasizes the unintended yet significant contribution of telecommunications research to the field of music. Byrne draws a connection between disparate technological domains to show how advancements in one area can unexpectedly influence another. It highlights the serendipitous nature of technological progress, where the development intended for one purpose (efficient telecommunication) becomes a cornerstone for a completely different field (digital music).

“Psychoacoustics, would eventually lead to an increased understanding of information transmission. This arcane science was suddenly hugely useful.”

Byrne here underscores the interdisciplinary nature of technological and scientific advancement. Psychoacoustics, initially a niche field, gains immense relevance in the context of digital sound processing. This quote reflects the idea of convergence, in which seemingly unrelated areas of study blend to push forward innovation. Byrne’s language suggests a sense of awe and surprise at this development, emphasizing the unpredictable trajectory of scientific exploration.

“The possibilities of recording as a medium in its own right were immediately apparent, but my early experiments were pretty unlistenable.”

Byrne juxtaposes the exciting potential of recording technology with the harsh reality of his initial attempts. This reflects a common experience in creative pursuits: the gap between one’s vision and the initial results. It underscores the process of learning and experimentation, a theme central to Byrne’s exploration of music production. The candid admission of his early failures humanizes him, creating rapport between himself and his audience.

“It was as if glorifying the aura of those places was a way of admitting that skill is not enough, that some invisible mojo was present in the woodwork at Sun Studio or Motown Studio, and it was that ineffable essence that made the records made in those places so good.”

Here, Byrne reflects on the mystique surrounding iconic recording studios. He suggests that the success attributed to these studios went beyond technical skill, hinting at a magical or “invisible mojo.” This quote reveals Byrne’s perception of the music industry as influenced by intangible qualities and the power of reputation. The mention of specific studios like Sun and Motown not only anchors the discussion in real-world examples but also pays homage to the history of popular music.

“Collaborating is a vital part of music’s essence and an aid to creativity.”

This quote encapsulates Byrne’s core belief about the nature of musical creation. He positions collaboration not just as a useful tool but as an intrinsic part of music’s essence. This idea challenges the romantic notion of the solitary genius, advocating instead for a view of art as a communal and synergistic process. The simplicity of the statement, coupled with its placement early in the chapter, sets the tone for the ensuing exploration of collaboration in various artistic contexts.

“Players inevitably add things that the songwriter might not have thought of, so you often end up with something very different from what a solo musician would have arrived at on his own.”

Here, Byrne highlights the transformative power of collaboration in music. He acknowledges the unpredictability and innovation that comes from multiple artists contributing their unique perspectives and skills to a piece. This quote reflects a fundamental theme of the chapter—the unpredictable nature of creative processes. The juxtaposition of a “solo musician” versus collaborative players underlines the contrast between individual and collective creativity.

“Writing and singing seemed to be an attempt at a kind of musical self-healing.”

In this introspective quote, Byrne reveals a deeply personal aspect of his songwriting process, framing it as a form of self-therapy. This statement gives readers a glimpse into the emotional and psychological layers of his artistic practice. The metaphor of “self-healing” conveys the restorative and cathartic power of creative expression, highlighting how artistic endeavors can allow for personal exploration and emotional processing.

“Would I make music if no one were listening? If I were a hermit and lived on a mountaintop like a bearded guy in a cartoon, would I take the time to write a song?”

This rhetorical question reflects Byrne’s introspection about the inherent purpose of creating music. It invites the reader to consider the tension between the intrinsic value of artistic creation and the desire for external validation. The imagery of a solitary hermit underscores the need for an audience in the creative process.

“Making great stuff is only half the battle.”

This succinct statement captures the essence of the challenges faced by musicians in the modern music industry. Byrne implies that while the creation of quality music is essential, it represents only a part of the artist’s journey. The quote suggests that navigating the complex distribution networks and the business side of music is equally important—his use of the idiom “half the battle” alludes to the difficult, often cutthroat nature of the music industry.

“The music business […] was run by entrepreneurs, and often the records they put out were based on their taste.”

This quote reflects on an earlier era of the music industry, highlighting a shift from artistically driven decision-making to a more commercially oriented approach. It suggests that in the past, personal passion and individual taste played a significant role in the music that was produced and promoted, implying a closer connection between musicians and distributors. This contrasts with the current trend of market-driven strategies and critiques the loss of personal touch in the music industry.

“The social CBGB was, from a structural point of view, a perfect, self-actuating, self-organizing system. A biological system, in a way: a coral reef, a root system, a termite colony, a rhizome, a neural network.”

In this quote, Byrne conceptualizes CBGB, a legendary New York music club pivotal to the 1970s punk and new wave scenes, as a living, organic entity. He employs a range of natural metaphors—a coral reef, a root system, a termite colony, a rhizome, a neural network—to capture the dynamic and interconnected nature of this creative hub. These comparisons illustrate how CBGB functioned as a self-sustaining ecosystem, fostering a diverse and rich artistic community.

“Their songs and performances will be, one hopes, absolutely heartfelt, passionate, and true—it’s just that we channel our ineffable creative urges, sometimes unconsciously, into figuring out what is appropriate for a given situation.”

Here, Byrne acknowledges the genuine emotions and authenticity in artistic creation while also recognizing the influence of external factors. His statement touches on the complex relationship between an artist’s internal motivation and the external environment, suggesting that creative expression is often a response to situational demands. This insight into the adaptive nature of art challenges the romantic notion of creation as purely spontaneous and unshaped by context.

“Music is made of sound waves that we encounter at specific times and places: they happen, we sense them, and then they’re gone.”

This quote reflects Byrne’s philosophical view of music as an ephemeral experience, emphasizing its transient nature. It underscores the idea that music is not just about the sound produced but also about the context in which it is experienced. Byrne’s perspective challenges the notion of music as a tangible product, instead highlighting its temporal and situational qualities. This aligns with his broader argument about the importance of the environment and context in shaping the understanding and appreciation of music.

“Music is social glue—it holds families, nations, cultures, and communities together. But it can tear them apart as well.”

Byrne captures the dual nature of music as both a unifying and divisive force. This paradoxical statement reflects the deep and complex impact of music on social structures. The dichotomy is a stark reminder of music’s power: It can both forge communal bonds and amplify divisions. Byrne’s observation points to the ubiquitous and influential role of music in shaping societal dynamics, underscoring its significance beyond mere entertainment.

“We must bring about a music which is like furniture, a music which will be part of the noises of the environment […] softening the noises of the knives and forks, not dominating them, not imposing itself.”

This quote, originally by French composer Erik Satie, is referenced by Byrne to illustrate the concept of ambient music. Satie’s metaphorical comparison of music to furniture conveys the idea of music blending seamlessly into the background of everyday life. The quote underscores the shift from music as a dominant, foreground experience to a subtle, integrative aspect of the environment. This perspective revolutionizes the conventional understanding of music’s role, suggesting a form of music that complements rather than competes with the sounds of daily life.