Sonic forces for change: Electronic music, mindfulness and dream theory.
Christian Eaves · June 29 2017
In 1981, Jon Hassell released Dream Theory in Malaya: Fourth World Vol. Two. Hassell took inspiration for the album after reading a paper, Pygmies and Dream Giants, by the anthropologist and explorer Kilton Stewart. It describes and analyses the mannerisms and daily actions of the Senoi tribe originating from Peninsular Malaysia. They regarded the notion of dreams as highly important and would hold regular morning group discussions which would attempt to break down and evaluate the meaning of their fantasies.
Hassell’s Fourth World aesthetic as a whole has picked up an impressive legacy and has developed a recent resurgence in interest after a compilation release by Optimo Music. Yet, more interesting to me is the concept of dream theory and linking it to electronic music, and more broadly experimental music, in general. It goes without saying I suppose, and only takes a slight interest in Freud to dig deeper, but given how personal dreams are to an individual the act of interpreting them can be seen as a process of self-reflection and hopefully(!) self-improvement. Music created with this in mind gives the listener a sensory delight which is universal but also acts as a medium to help understand themselves and their potential issues.
Still, this is not to say all music can and should be treated in this way. Engaging wholeheartedly with your favourite music, just as with literature or weighty, slow paced films and great works of art, is an action that takes time to cultivate and flourish. The fear of treating music too intellectually to the point where you lose basic enjoyment is a very real one. Having said that, not taking any cognitive approach to music listening and remaining very passive can affect you not just for pure enjoyments sake but is also damaging for the mind as a whole.
The late Mark Fisher wrote just over a decade ago of his disdain for ‘reflexive impotence’. It is a trend I have noticed majorly in myself as well as among my group of friends. Problems exist and play a large part in our daily lives: be it lack of self confidence, work, relationships issues etc. etc. etc. Yet, not only do we ignore these issues we outright reject our need for help or solace. The causes of this are far too nuanced and complex for me to dive fully into. However, the pop culture that the current generation (myself included) has been exposed to certainly doesn’t help. The cynicism displayed by Arctic Monkeys, It’s Always Sunny, Peep Show, House of Cards and every other moody, white, male singer-songwriter among various others things appears a bit overwhelming. The problem isn’t with the content itself but the balance of it. If the majority of what you consume is tinged with this kind of post-modern irony and irreverence it isn’t too surprising if you find yourself unable to deal with your emotions or the emotions of others in a sincere way.
Tangents aside, the use of music in these instances is not as a means of self-help but as ‘a walling up against the social.’ A complete shutting away of your surroundings is definitely not a bad thing once in a while, but its the manner of doing so which is worrying. This isn’t shutting yourself off for the pursuit of mindfulness, its a retreat into easy comforts and hedonism. Once again, I’m not saying we should dismiss altogether commercial media such as pop music which can produce these kinds of results. However, there has to be some kind of equilibrium - media which generates productivity and is stimulating in an informative and progressive way.
Fortunately, there is a consistent thirst for this approach within the broad spectrum of the electronic music scene. Especially in regards to dance music, moments on transcendence on the dance floor go hand in hand with quiet contemplation at home. It is heartening to see, from the albeit slightly self-contained sphere of Leeds where I’ve experienced such performers, that even amongst the most popular reaches of dance music there are DJs such as Lena Willikens, Call Super, Helena Hauff, Objekt and the Hessle Audio trio that have the freedom to continually chase unconventional sounds which produce such moments of realisation, however opaque and indeterminate they might be.
Not only that, but the ambient music movement has also received a welcome bolster in popularity within recent times. Brian Eno, who collaborated with Hassell on the first volume of the Fourth World series, continues to release stellar albums on Warp. While younger artists such as Huerco S. and Iona Fortune are crafting unique and equally as great sonic journeys in the same vein. The festival circuit too is experiencing somewhat of an upheaval, with a handful promoting the ambient sound and even dedicating whole stages to it. Farr Festival is perhaps the most high-profile, debuting the Campfire Headphase stage devoted to ‘the finest of otherworldly musicians’.
Nonetheless, what I find most exciting are the handful of artists who are slowly but surely solidifying themselves as mainstays of our musical zeitgeist. Since the start of 2017, there has been a series of incredible releases by Arca, Actress, Jlin and most recently Laurel Halo. All these works champion forward-thinking, challenging soundscapes which, as any great work of art should, reward you upon further listening and inspection. It is music which is wholly engaging and introspective if you require it to be, while also happening to be rather nice sounding. Laurel Halo’s album Dust is an oneiric, multi-layered delight. The collection of songs glow with warmth yet also retain a sense of distance and intangibility. It feels like a trip into indistinct memories of summers gone by - cries of “Did this ever happen?” ring out towards the latter half, shrouded in off-kilter drum patterns and hazy, indistinct piano twinklings. The lead single, “Jelly”, seems like a surreal, deconstructed pop classic. The vocals could have been snatched from restless nights mulling over what should have been said: “You don’t meet my ideal standards for a friend! / And you are a thief and you drink too much.” It’s a release from an artist truly blossoming and feeling comfortable with their musical pursuits. As Halo remarked to MixMag, music is about ‘making something that’s true to yourself.’
This idea can also be attached to Jlin’s new release, Black Origami. The Indiana born musician’s album is a beautiful and chaotic wall of sound from start to finish. It’s a percussive footwork frenzy drawing on all manner of influences as shown from her diverse range of collaborators: Holly Herndon, William Basinski, Dope Saint Jude and Fawkes. It is no doubt challenging music, but the ambition and the sheer execution of Patton’s singular and unique vision is a wonder to behold and makes it a must listen. I know these words have the potential to come across as preachy and self-righteous, but striking that balance between easy listening and eccentric, unorthodox tunes can be really open yourself up to new modes of experience and expression. Music at its most essential and fulfilling is an act of self-reflection by both the creator and the listener. So channel your favourite sounds for betterment of yourself. Don’t let your dreams be dreams, use music to make them a reality!
In 1981, Jon Hassell released Dream Theory in Malaya: Fourth World Vol. Two. Hassell took inspiration for the album after reading a paper, Pygmies and Dream Giants, by the anthropologist and explorer Kilton Stewart. It describes and analyses the mannerisms and daily actions of the Senoi tribe originating from Peninsular Malaysia. They regarded the notion of dreams as highly important and would hold regular morning group discussions which would attempt to break down and evaluate the meaning of their fantasies.
Hassell’s Fourth World aesthetic as a whole has picked up an impressive legacy and has developed a recent resurgence in interest after a compilation release by Optimo Music. Yet, more interesting to me is the concept of dream theory and linking it to electronic music, and more broadly experimental music, in general. It goes without saying I suppose, and only takes a slight interest in Freud to dig deeper, but given how personal dreams are to an individual the act of interpreting them can be seen as a process of self-reflection and hopefully(!) self-improvement. Music created with this in mind gives the listener a sensory delight which is universal but also acts as a medium to help understand themselves and their potential issues.
The late Mark Fisher wrote just over a decade ago of his disdain for ‘reflexive impotence’. It is a trend I have noticed majorly in myself as well as among my group of friends. Problems exist and play a large part in our daily lives: be it lack of self confidence, work, relationships issues etc. etc. etc. Yet, not only do we ignore these issues we outright reject our need for help or solace. The causes of this are far too nuanced and complex for me to dive fully into. However, the pop culture that the current generation (myself included) has been exposed to certainly doesn’t help. The cynicism displayed by Arctic Monkeys, It’s Always Sunny, Peep Show, House of Cards and every other moody, white, male singer-songwriter among various others things appears a bit overwhelming. The problem isn’t with the content itself but the balance of it. If the majority of what you consume is tinged with this kind of post-modern irony and irreverence it isn’t too surprising if you find yourself unable to deal with your emotions or the emotions of others in a sincere way.
Tangents aside, the use of music in these instances is not as a means of self-help but as ‘a walling up against the social.’ A complete shutting away of your surroundings is definitely not a bad thing once in a while, but its the manner of doing so which is worrying. This isn’t shutting yourself off for the pursuit of mindfulness, its a retreat into easy comforts and hedonism. Once again, I’m not saying we should dismiss altogether commercial media such as pop music which can produce these kinds of results. However, there has to be some kind of equilibrium - media which generates productivity and is stimulating in an informative and progressive way.
Fortunately, there is a consistent thirst for this approach within the broad spectrum of the electronic music scene. Especially in regards to dance music, moments on transcendence on the dance floor go hand in hand with quiet contemplation at home. It is heartening to see, from the albeit slightly self-contained sphere of Leeds where I’ve experienced such performers, that even amongst the most popular reaches of dance music there are DJs such as Lena Willikens, Call Super, Helena Hauff, Objekt and the Hessle Audio trio that have the freedom to continually chase unconventional sounds which produce such moments of realisation, however opaque and indeterminate they might be.
Not only that, but the ambient music movement has also received a welcome bolster in popularity within recent times. Brian Eno, who collaborated with Hassell on the first volume of the Fourth World series, continues to release stellar albums on Warp. While younger artists such as Huerco S. and Iona Fortune are crafting unique and equally as great sonic journeys in the same vein. The festival circuit too is experiencing somewhat of an upheaval, with a handful promoting the ambient sound and even dedicating whole stages to it. Farr Festival is perhaps the most high-profile, debuting the Campfire Headphase stage devoted to ‘the finest of otherworldly musicians’.
Nonetheless, what I find most exciting are the handful of artists who are slowly but surely solidifying themselves as mainstays of our musical zeitgeist. Since the start of 2017, there has been a series of incredible releases by Arca, Actress, Jlin and most recently Laurel Halo. All these works champion forward-thinking, challenging soundscapes which, as any great work of art should, reward you upon further listening and inspection. It is music which is wholly engaging and introspective if you require it to be, while also happening to be rather nice sounding. Laurel Halo’s album Dust is an oneiric, multi-layered delight. The collection of songs glow with warmth yet also retain a sense of distance and intangibility. It feels like a trip into indistinct memories of summers gone by - cries of “Did this ever happen?” ring out towards the latter half, shrouded in off-kilter drum patterns and hazy, indistinct piano twinklings. The lead single, “Jelly”, seems like a surreal, deconstructed pop classic. The vocals could have been snatched from restless nights mulling over what should have been said: “You don’t meet my ideal standards for a friend! / And you are a thief and you drink too much.” It’s a release from an artist truly blossoming and feeling comfortable with their musical pursuits. As Halo remarked to MixMag, music is about ‘making something that’s true to yourself.’
This idea can also be attached to Jlin’s new release, Black Origami. The Indiana born musician’s album is a beautiful and chaotic wall of sound from start to finish. It’s a percussive footwork frenzy drawing on all manner of influences as shown from her diverse range of collaborators: Holly Herndon, William Basinski, Dope Saint Jude and Fawkes. It is no doubt challenging music, but the ambition and the sheer execution of Patton’s singular and unique vision is a wonder to behold and makes it a must listen. I know these words have the potential to come across as preachy and self-righteous, but striking that balance between easy listening and eccentric, unorthodox tunes can be really open yourself up to new modes of experience and expression. Music at its most essential and fulfilling is an act of self-reflection by both the creator and the listener. So channel your favourite sounds for betterment of yourself. Don’t let your dreams be dreams, use music to make them a reality!
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