Part 2

How much potential for something “new” is there still in composition? What could this “new” look like?

There will always be something new and I try not to ponder about it too much because I’d like to be surprised. But, there are plenty of artists I can think of that are doing new and excited things.

I recently had a conversation about this with the great artist Morgan Garrett - for instance, the scene of musicians that are heavily influenced by Playboi Carti are really pushing rap music in very noisy and abstract directions. Morgan turned me on to 2$limey, an artist from Oklahoma that is doing that very thing.



But, artists seem less inclined to take dramatic risks these days within contemporary composition - it feels like people want to engage with music that is comforting rather than challenging, and that’s totally fine for now because it will change! And that gives insight into the culture and society at large.

Like, as society and culture moves so fast now and we are endlessly bombarded by news and useless information, people are tending towards something that helps bring them peace.

This has happened before. Minimalism came from a generation that was having the second Viennese school pushed down their throats while engaging with new recordings of regional musics from around the world that displayed an antithetical rigor to serialism.

What role do electronic tools and instruments play for your creative process? What does your creative space / studio look like and what tools does it contain?

Electronic tools aren’t a big part of my creative process. But my studio is extremely important to me.

My studio is outside of the city where no one can hear me for the most part. This is optimal for me because I am extremely routine and repetitive. The only items in my studio are a desk, a chair, two lamps, a music stand, an electronic shruti box, and a bookshelf.

The simplicity of the space helps me focus on the instrument in front of me.

It is my impression that adding a conceptual, non-musical dimension to one's work is almost a prerequisite for commissions and grants. How do you view this tendency and how “conceptual” is your own approach to writing?

The concept I deal with is how my own life and experience informs the music I hear in my head. I don’t try to explain it, I just let it happen. Words and explanations are overrated - just feeling things is where it’s at.

For example, I grew up hanging out in my dad’s auto shop and was always around lots of loud muscle cars. A few years ago, my brother came to a solo set I did at Cafe Oto in London. He hadn’t seen me play solo before. After I got done, I asked him “What’d you think?”, to which he replied “Sounds like dad’s garage”. That statement he made truly blew my mind because I had never considered that influence. So, that’s a lifelong, subconscious concept I'm dealing with.

But in regards to grants, we exist in a rat race so get the money if you can get it. I hear way too many artists complain and people don’t seem to understand how much that can weigh you down. Honestly, if I hear an artist complain all the time, I become disinterested in their music - not exactly sure why but it's just too much bad vibes - and those mental routes of negativity become muscle memory.

Working with long forms, complex concepts or new vocabulary is potentially more challenging today because they require us to remember things that happened perhaps minutes ago – while most of us are finding it hard to focus even on what's happening right now. Both as a composer and as a listener yourself, how do you deal with this?

I don’t deal with it - and I don’t think artists should make concessions for this. I just do what I hear. If I made concessions for the audience I wouldn’t be making music of my own perspective and experience - at least that’s what I want to hear in music.

It is of the utmost importance for an artist to transmit what they hear and feel. Don’t question it. If it doesn’t work, try again. And if someone can’t remember what happened a few minutes ago, maybe they should monitor your screen time.

I vaguely remember a Philip Glass interview where he was asked about people not liking his music to which he replied something like “I don’t care - that’s fine. There’s other music out there. Go listen to Beethoven or The Beatles!” If I find myself in the audience of a difficult performance, I end up finding alternate modes of listening until I settle. There’s always something good somewhere.

But sometimes it can be so funny to see a performer that is completely oblivious to the punishment they are unleashing on an audience - to watch people squirm in their chairs, or have a long exhale when it seems like it’s ending, only for the music to get going again! Brutal.

For many artists, life-changing musical experiences take place live. Few works these days, however, are performed beyond their premiere. What, do you feel, does this mean for composers, and the music they write, and how does this reality influence your own work?

If a composer is struggling to find performances past a premiere, I think they should consider a more economical approach to ensembles. Put together a band with like-minded people and play each other's music. Looking at what happened with ensembles in the 1960s/1970s has plenty of examples of this working incredibly well (Meredith Monk, Dream Syndicate, Art Ensemble of Chicago, etc).

I mean, I took the route of solo performance so I could rehearse all the time and perform a lot. The solo music I write changes constantly from performance to performance - and due to this, I find myself playing my own compositions for a very long time before they feel tired.

Roscoe Mitchell once told me “If it keeps changing and evolving - don’t stop! You brought it to life so let it live!”

How, would you say are live performances of your music and your recording projects connected at the moment? How do they mutually influence and feed off each other?

Unfortunately for me, the recorded document usually serves as a starting point for a work to develop.

I have ran into this problem so many times where I record a piece, only to realize I should’ve performed it more before recording it. But, then determining/scheduling when a composition is ready for documentation is very difficult.

To some, the advent of AI and 'intelligent' composing tools offers potential for machines to contribute to the creative process. What are your hopes, fears, expectations and possible concrete plans in this regard?

The main attribute shown by AI so far is stripping people of rights and resources. It’s already too intertwined with capitalism.

The Montreux Festival intends to preserve its archive of recordings for future generations. Do you personally feels it's important that everything should remain available forever - or is there something to be said for letting beautiful moments pass and linger in the memories of those that experienced them?

I think that is great. Letting people experience recordings from the past helps mythos grow and I think that is important for creativity. We need more folklore and myth.

A few months ago I listened to the famous Paul Gonsalvez solo on “Diminuendo in Blue/Crescendo in Blue” from Duke Ellington at Newport (1956) something like 20 times within a few days.



Just listening to the arc of that saxophone solo and how the rhythm section starts to support it, and the audible screams from the audience in real time - and just noticing that the most simple, repetitive figure would make the audience erupt! Super informative.