The blurry line between noise and music

639 years — just long enough for a song to really get cooking

TRAVIS BOISVENUE THE FULCRUM (UNIVERSITY OF OTTAWA)

OTTAWA (CUP) — The best cover songs are the ones that are completely unlike the original. A great cover song uses the original as a springing board to launch their own ideas of what the song is about.

In 2000, a group of musicians and philosophers gathered to discuss and prepare one of the most ambitious cover songs ever — a 639-year-long performance of John Cage’s “ASLSP” composition for the organ.

A weighted church organ in a German town called Halberstadt is currently performing the song. It has been playing it since Sept. 5, 2001. The first year and a half of the piece was complete silence, and there have only been four chord changes since it began making sound.

When Cage composed the piece before his death, it was 20 minutes long; the name of the composition is a reference to his request to have it played “as slow as possible.”

John Cage certainly wasn’t a stranger to controversy when he was alive. He became notorious for composing “4’33”” in the 1950s. The song consisted of four minutes and 33 seconds of silence, and was first played to a packed auditorium by a classically trained pianist (and in the spirit of absurd covers, the song was later rerecorded by noise-pioneers Sonic Youth).

During the performance, the time was filled by the ruffling of programs, the chatting of the audience, and the pianist flipping the pages of his sheet music.

The story goes that Cage had discovered a disturbing fact the first time he had walked into an anechoic room: even in complete silence, he could still hear the high-pitch whining of his nervous system, and the low rumbling of his blood.

No matter how hard you try, you will never be in complete silence. “4’33”” was the theory that music was noise, and if you can never escape noise, you can never escape music.

The problem with Noise (capital “N” noise, the kind that’s recorded and listened to) is the line between noise and music. What separates a Merzbow composition from a Beatles hit? At what point does a band like My Bloody Valentine stop making pop music and start making melody-less noise? It’s always been a struggle for Noise musicians to make noise and still keep it exciting. It seems to always end in pesky songs or dreamy ambience.

“ASLSP” has finally found the perfect example of noise. In someone’s lifetime, they will never hear enough of the song to get a feel for what it sounds like. If they are lucky, they will get to experience a chord change; otherwise, it’s simply a massive unwavering tone — noise in its purest, most grating, and unmusical sense.

When I finally got around to listening to a section of “ASLSP,” I realized the other half of equation. In the 10-minute sample I heard, the noise became overwhelming and unbearable.

In true Cage fashion, however, a German tour guide, or maybe a priest, can be heard filling in the song by speaking loudly to a group of people in the echoey church. At the 8:36 point, the organ finally switches to a threenote chord, creating a disturbing, but beautiful effect.

Cage and his followers have discovered the relation between noise and music: there isn’t any division, they are one and the same at all times. To make noise, sometimes you have to let a bit of music get in the way.