When I was a kid, my older brother taught me a few blues chord progressions on the guitar so he could solo soulfully over me. I accepted this division of labor because my deficient sense of rhythm and pitch was immediately, painfully obvious.

I remembered this last week when I hooked up a USB keyboard to my computer and fired up GarageBand, because all of a sudden I had unexpected musical hope.

For me, the program’s killer feature is a graphic view of the notes (each note is an elongated rectangle). When I hit a key, I can really see the note–how high it is, how long I hold it, how it compares to other notes. So far, this goes a decent way towards overcoming my handicaps.

I’m surprised, because what had seemed necessary (my dorky-white-guy fingers pouring out music), seems dramatically less so, because I’ve found an alternate, more visual route to the sound.

I can strike notes, listen with my feelings, adjust the notes (users can change their duration and frequency by dragging them), then start the process over again. Since I just want to compose custom music and sounds for Flash files, that I’ll never perform from a park bench doesn’t bother me.

Think, act, see result, think, act, see result. Etc. A feedback loop is common enough (play, work, learning, interfaces, life) but my little adventure this week definitely brings home the idea that technology keeps changing the prerequisites for entering particular loops.

My soloing older brother is a case in point. He was never good at basic math. So what did he become? A sickeningly rich accountant. Apparently, whatever he does (he’s explained it, but I can’t comprehend), it now requires a different kind of quarter to get the pinball machine lit up and ready to go.

Tags: sound · culture · body · learningNo Comments