SOUNDWAR

This here's an old piece of writing, originally intended for publication in Clip Tart #6, which was eventually released in a more limited form as a split zine with ABQ Lost #2. I ended up putting this in You can't comprehend THE FUN!, a zine celebrating the 2010 Southwest by No Fest in ABQ, mostly for filler but also to establish the music-geek vibe in a serious way. 

I may someday finish hyperlinking all the bands & albums listed here, but it's gonna take a while.
Plenty to argue with in this article, no doubt. Have fun!
DCat

SOUNDWAR

Sound is one of the most important things in my life. The sonic environment where I live often feels as palpable as its physical structure. Not that there’s anything particularly unique about it. I have mostly oblivious neighbors. There’s the usual foot & car traffic for a collegetown area, with occasional loud music and partiers. There’s a constant background of emergency & police sirens, seemingly scheduled to start at 6 a.m. every morning. Weekly fireworks and bellowing of announcers from the nearby stadium are the norm. Trash & recycling pickup is always jarring, as is the occasional car alarm and bass hooptie. Then there’s the regular buzzing of news, hospital & police helicopters. Jets scream overhead, and ominous, never-explained sounds emanate from the Air Force base. One encounters TV noise or shitty music in nearly every public space, from the bar to the post office to the emergency dental clinic to the grocery store & fastfood joints. At work there’s constant machine noise, interspersed with grandstanding conversation and annoying "ringtones." In summer, the neighborhood ice cream truck trawls by several times a day, bleating out the same 30 second jingle over & over. And at night, the silence is so complete it’s eerie. I’m very on guard around my apartment building, with one ear out for disturbing noises from fights, theft or cops. It makes me somewhat jumpy, and I often have trouble getting to and staying asleep.
I’ve always been sensitive to ambient sound, and several friends have noted how easily aggravated I am by sirens, barking dogs and the like. Something about the "brute stupidity" of the source really gets to me- aggressive, unalterable repetition for the sake of repetition. I find I need to program my own sounds almost constantly. Not so much to drown out all else, but to feel like “my space” is truly mine- that I can choose my environment to some degree. I know many others who feel the same way.
There was an older guy that used to live in the apartment above where I work. I understood that he was a Veteran of some sort, had PTSD issues & a history of addiction and alcoholism that he'd been struggling with a long time. He’d been clean & sober for a decade or so. He was serious, soft-spoken, and made a point of helping out the permanent homeless characters in the neighborhood however he could. He did yoga daily out on his porch balcony, and often burned lots of sage in his apt. He also got really anxious about punk shows I hosted at the meeting hall across the street, and would complain a lot about disruption and drinking in the parking lot. Frustrating as that was, I felt like I could understand where he was coming from, and tried to interact respectfully with him.
His worst trait though, was BLASTING the most generic "60's music" from his stereo EVERY SINGLE DAY. He had a really limited repetoire too; almost comically so- I think he actually had the KTel "Freedom Rock" compilation, a few Beatles & Dylan & Joni Mitchell albums, and not much else. I went through endless cycles of amusement, annoyance, sarcastic commentary, stupefaction, violent fantasies and back again as he continued to broadcast this hit parade of nostalgic schmaltz throughout the neighborhood. It was obviously an important ritual, possibly even necessary for keeping him on an even keel. I think it was his way of maintaining equilibrium in the face of personal demons and external attacks. But goddamn, there are certain "classics" I'll never be able to hear again without feeling intense disgust, thanks to him. It reminds me of the almost murderous rage I get when I hear most Christmas music. One person’s comfort music is definitely another's psychic assault, and environmental factors often play a big part in the difference. However, the urge to use sound and repetition to protect one’s psychic integrity is universal. Sometimes this urge surfaces unconsciously. I sent my artist friend Jason a draft of this essay, and he wrote back:
"Yesterday, I needed to go to Walmart to get our supplies (for upcoming relatives in town--Ursula has a ballet recital (!!!)). The second I turned into the parking lot, the Dead Kennedys’ ‘Let's Lynch the Landlord’ popped into my head and would not let go for the entire time I was there. Now, Walmart is never a fun place to have to go, but at a certain economic bracket in Las Cruces it seems almost inevitable. My brain took over."
Music is one of the best & simplest tools I know of to undermine negative environments. It’s highly personalized, has a repetitious nature that can break up imposed patterns, and is more readily available than most other media. I’ve found what works best for me are usually recordings that I've listened to for many years, and pretty much know by heart. Stuff that doesn't let my mind wander to topics of pain and self-hatred, but keeps me centered on how great this music is and how great I feel hearing it. Currently, a lot of what I listen to on a daily basis is pretty “far out” - free jazz, noise, electroacoustic stuff. It opens my mind up to new worlds of feeling and understanding. But when I need to bring it all back home, I usually stick with what’s always worked. Instead of a Top Ten list, here’s “The Odd Recommendation” of recordings I use to keep myself even.