This is an essay I wrote for a pamphlet printed to go along with
the Richie Hawtin show here last february.  Rather than get into
another pissing match with Fast, I'm just going to put this out
for discussion.

The event was called "From Zero To One" and this is my essay on
the topic, and on techno.

Why Loop? 

The western concept of time: a linear sequencing of events in the 
physical universe. The arrow of time flies one way. Yet the equations 
that represent our best model of the universe work in some cases both 
forward and backwards in time. Time becomes a slippery thing to define
in this context -- while it is a real dimension of the universe, it's 
also an undefinable and inescapable part of our condition. When people 
think of time, they point to a clock, but their thoughts are smeared
in time -- humans can be so captivated with the idea of the past or
the future they can imagine it more real than the present moment. 

While we perceive time as a unidirectional phenomenon, itcan also be 
viewed as circular. The human inventions that measure time work by 
repeating the same action over and over. The hands of the clock sweep a 
circle in the course of a day. The sun rises in the morning, draws an 
arc on the sky, and sets, and does the same thing again the next day.  
Most of human experience is repeating the same actions over and over 
again. We draw brackets around our repetitions called minutes, hours, 
days, and years.

In the discrete mathematics that make computers possible, modulo arithmetic 
works like the hands of a clock  --  you count from zero to a a particular 
number and then return to zero.  The ASCII text you're reading now fits 
in seven bits, and comprises the numbers from 0 to 127.  So our computers 
love to circle as much as we do.

To the Hindus creation is comprised of Yugas -- after so long, every thing
stops and time starts over.  Part of the inspiration for Finnigans Wake by 
Joyce is a similar theory of circular history, and Joyce starts and ends 
the book in the middle of a sentence, inviting you to read it as a 
circular text.  

Techno music has been made possible over the past 12 years by the advent of 
computer controlled musical instruments. The Roland TR909 drum machines and 
related instruments construct songs from collections of one-measure patterns. 
Their initial vision of it's white-coated Japanese designers was for a song 
to be built up by stringing together a set of these patterns, imitating the 
repetition of live rock and roll drumming. 

But as William Gibson says, the street finds its own uses for tech. Minimal 
techno music has mostly used the 909 in pattern mode, where one drum 
pattern can be repeated indefinitely. The basic unit of repetition is 
the 16 step pattern. Song structure disappears. The goal is to provide 
just the barest elements of rhythm necessary to facilitate dancing. 

This reductive collapse down to cyclic patterns echos very strongly the 
tribal rhythms of Africa, which form the basis of the truly original 
musical forms of America -- Jazz, Blues, and Rock and Roll. Those forms 
incorporated the song form from European Folk Music, but retained 
repetetive, compelling rythms to propel them, and to propel the listener 
to dance. To that triumvirate of musical styles rooted in African American 
culture, we have to add techno, and indeed all of the dance music that 
has developed since the rise of Disco in the 1970s. 

The asymptotic limit, the end point of techno's progression is the perfect 
beat -- the loop that is infinitely compelling and need not be embellished to 
keep the listener's attention. Like Monty Python's Killing Joke or David 
Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest, the perfect loop would make it impossible 
not to dance. Indeed, there have been incidents around the world of people 
dancing themselves to the edge of death through physical exhaustion and 
dehydration. 

The beat is both an invitation to and a demand for dance. Instead of the 
cycle of days or hours, or minutes, you are caught in a cycle of a few 
seconds. When the loop of time closes so tightly it tends toward a 
singularity. If through the ecstasy of the dance you can get to this 
place where time stops, you experience through the physical movement of 
your body some taste of eternity. 

As to what is between zero and one: In the most literal sense there are two 
equally valid answers. To a binary computer, there is nothing between zero 
and one. The map of the real world inside the computer can only discriminate 
zero and one -- nothing in between. In the real, analog world, there is an 
infinity of numbers between zero and one. Cantor's diagonal theorem proves 
this, showing that between any two values there are an infinite number of 
other values. 

So the binary representation we depend on for nearly everything, by virtue of 
the proliferation of computers, can only make crude, discrete models of the 
continuous real world. As has always been the case -- humanity's grasp on 
reality is mediated by generation after generation of flawed models of 
the world around them. In 16th century America, witches flew through the New 
England trees and curdled milk still in the cow. To think otherwise calls a 
whole tenuous, yet demonstrably successful belief system into question. 

The assertion that we have a more perfect model now than people did then can 
only be proven provisionally. Germ theory, Calculus, and Physics have done a 
lot to make us safer and more comfortable. But what will people think of us 
in 500 years? We will look every bit as deluded and rough as the 16th Century 
looks to us now.  Time and again the deep insights into the nature of reality 
this century have all focused and defined uncertainty in a particular 
domain. Where is certainty, when trying to know the truth affects what truth 
you come to know?

The kind of people who feel they have an iron clad grip on reality are often 
the most dangerous and unpleasant. This describes most of the world leaders 
of the 20st Century. But it would be nice if in the next century we can come 
to a better realization of what we do know, what we don't know and what 
we can't know. It may be that the messy, analog, massively redundant systems 
that we humans are, combined with the more precise, yet equally innacurate 
binary computers that surround us, can come into a beneficial synthesis. 
We can only hope. 

Techno music fuses both the binary and continuous worlds together. Computer 
controlled, analog synthesizers, are both mechanically precise and continuously 
variable. A seminal work in this form is Plastikman's "Recycled Plastik." 
Mechanical drum patterns 
are filtered and effected in ways that continuously morph over a period of 
minutes. The relentless tatoo of "Spastik" fills any room with fused opposites 
-- the sound of machinery counting up modulo 16: 0..15, 0..15 fused with a 
spirit of barely repressed
 tension. 

When a DJ spins "Spastik", or Joey Beltram's "Energy Flash"  there a visceral 
reaction on the dance floor. On the right night, it can bring people into that 
tight inner loop I spoke of above. I've heard that same "Spastik" tatoo both a 
African drumming re
cord, and in a recording of industrial printing presses. In a sense it fuses 
those two opposites together, and provides a decent provisional map of reality, 
inhabited by an unmappable celebration through dance. 



kent williams -- [EMAIL PROTECTED] 
http://www.mp3.com/chaircrusher -- tunes
http://www.live365.com/cgi-bin/directory.cgi?autostart=chaircrusher -- mix


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