What is music?

Not an obvious question with an even less obvious answer. Another reasonable question would be “Does music exist?”. If some thing A doesn’t exist then asking “What is A?” should have no answer. Here, I propose an answer for when A=music, therefore music must exist (at least for the next few paragraphs).

I had a debate with some friends about this question and I think we all agreed in the end (maybe because it was getting late) that music is what you say it is. That’s a bit of a copout answer, I know, but it’s the only way to get everyone to agree. Let me try and elaborate.

We concluded that if you perceive something as music, then it is music, to you. Interesting little side note: this is how my second theorem came about. We were talking about how anything has the potential to be music, it must only be said to be so. The famously comical example used was our friend’s fart, who from now on shall be referred to as Kris to protect his identity. So the question was brought up a number of times: Can Kris’ fart be considered music? Well if you were passing by and had just joined our conversation you’d immediately make a weird face, similar to the one you’d make if you actually smelled the fart, and laugh at the question saying “of course not, that’s silly”. You might however decide to sit down and join us and after a while we would probably convince you that Kris’ fart can be music if someone says it is.

Can we really say that something exists objectively if it is only defined to exist subjectively and no human on the planet ever perceives it as such. Another important question is: If person A perceives something as music, does it mean it’s music to A only or to everyone else as well?

To put this in context, if nobody ever perceives Kris’ fart as music, then we can say that it objectively is not music and that its being music does not exist. Right about now a light bulb should have gone off in your head. In a sense, if you think about it, music doesn’t exist unless humans exist. This is true of a lot of things I suppose. The difference with music is that the same physical thing which can exist independent of humans yields a nonphysical thing which may or may not exist. This is why this question is so fascinating to me. The self, freedom, and all that good stuff is only relevant if humans exist and no form (not the platonic kind) of physical evidence can be shown for their existence without humans, or with humans for that matter. The existence of music on the other hand is very interesting. Physical existence can be there and there need not be any physical change (apart from the neural connections in the brain) from its existing and not.

The same pressure change in the air can suddenly exist as music where it hasn’t before. A new spontaneous birth has been given. This holds true for other things like beauty. All this to say, the answer to the title question is that music is everything and anything you want it to be.

In some ways, music can be said to not exist at all in the case where no human ever perceived anything as music.

The genius duality

What do we mean when we say someone is a genius? I’ve thought about this a lot and it seems to hold true in all fields.

There are two conditions which, when met independently, make us say that something anthropogenic is “good”:

  1. It must impress us technically.
  2. It must move us emotionally.

Most things we encounter and judge as “good” will be a result of one, and only one, of the aforementioned conditions being met. There are, however, rare cases where both conditions are met such that their meeting is simultaneous (or with negligible delay). The being that made the thing, whose condition-meeting was twofold, exist, is who I consider to be a genius. To put it in lighter terms, a genius is someone who can create something which will be perceived as “good” both because it moves someone emotionally and impresses that same someone technically at the same time. This works both directly for the persons themselves and for the things they create.

Think about someone you think is a genius. Now think of something that s/he created. Next, try to think about why you think this created thing is a work of a genius. You will eventually be impressed with the work’s technical achievement and the thing will trigger some kind of emotion in you, thus both conditions will be satisfied. I argue that this, and this alone, is the reason why you brand that thing as “genius”. Of course you can apply the conditions on the person directly. Whether the conditions hold on the person directly or on the thing they create, it is enough to call that person a “genius”.

Is there a God?

There are many abstract concepts which cannot be described by science. The meaning of life, the self, freedom, beauty, etc. For me, the concept of a God is no different. These concepts leave a lot of room for discussion. Ultimately I believe that the question is not about whether these things exist objectively (see my second theorem) but about how we individually choose to believe in them.

What is the meaning of life? What is the self? I don’t know. Nobody knows. That’s because we’re not supposed to know. It only makes sense to think about these things in terms of what the meaning of life or the self are to you. This forces us to give up the original questions which seems to be the only rational thing to do (at least until science can branch out onto this area). Even if it does, it won’t really matter. Having an objective definition of something that is almost defined to be exclusively subjective does not change our opinions and thoughts about it. In fact, according to my second theorem, these things wouldn’t exist if we didn’t exist and therefore there would be no objective answers to these questions or reasons for their existence.

All this to say that I don’t believe in “God” in the traditional sense but I do feel there are people who I believe are Gods to me. Chopin is my God of sadness, melancholy, darkness, longing and desire. Ray Lamontagne is my God of happiness, forgiveness, memory, passion and love, etc. Bach is my God of mystery, entanglement, confusion and courtship. All are, to me, Gods in the domain of music. This does not necessarily imply any kind of underlying religion. Although given the loose definition of religion, I wouldn’t hesitate to say that music is my polytheistic religion.

Gods, to me, are more than just people, things or concepts I idolize, but rather that by which I choose to live my life, or at least part of it. They are entities that have left a permanent scar in my soul, mind and body and which I feel have shaped me in some way. In this respect, one can say that his parents are his Gods. I’m not a religious person, but I do believe we can all believe in a concept of God or gods.