Most of us would agree we need less clutter in our lives, and a certain degree of physical and/or emotional space from people, the media, and even the things we love in order for them to retain their sense of purpose and freshness for us. Life itself is an unflinching eye, eternally staring at us without a pause, and while are able to close our eyes and hide from the world at any time we’d like, it seems our own personal space is getting smaller by the day. With the internet giving us fingertip access to such a plethora of information, we have the ability to see the widest ranging scope of art and ideas than ever before. Of course, it’s incredibly exciting, but at the same time you don’t have to look further than this site to see burnout becoming a more common facet of our musical lives.

So while this discussion is neither new nor unique, and as I am writing this someone is able to legally or illegally obtain (but not listen to) every record Motown and Stax ever committed to wax within a day or two, I still find myself and my desires rather insatiable. Sure, I have some distant fears that the other shoe might drop some day, and there are a couple of times a season where listening to music seems like an overwhelming chore rather than a supplement. But I’ve been asking myself, “Why is my passion still undiluted even after seven years of downloading abuse?” At this point in my life, my answer lies in electronic dance music: it actually helps me cope with the lack of space in my life.

I wasn’t always such a techno booster, I grew up listening to the adult contemporary radio stations my mom would have on while driving me to school, and then when I actually began to seek out music in my teens I listened to Top 40 and rock. What I’ve come to learn is that popular music is often too focused for me, where there are very few times where it is not actively trying to engage you and get your undivided attention. You could run the gamut from Mogwai to Nelly to Sheryl Crow to even Beethoven, and 90% of the time the albums are filled to the brim with clearly structured songs or soundscapes. I am a sucker for a good pop song as much as anyone else, but these types of songs and albums all demand an immense amount of energy, desire and interest to go through and get acquainted with. I find there is no sense of space, no freedom for one to think when you’ve got an abundance of vocals and melodies to focus on, and a lack of pieces that are based on texture and tone. And so I, just like many others, have felt a sense of burnout with pop, indie rock, and even experimental music. It’s wasn’t the quantity of music I consumed though, it was the quantity of notes that lead me to fatigue.

As I switched to listening to house and techno, I’ve found my mindset rejuvenated to a sense of excitement and wonder that usually only happens to neophytes. Most people are aware of dance music’s focus on rhythm and texture above notes and songs, and to me this focus on texture also opens up a third dimension that stimulates contemplation. I could probably write endlessly about the comfort and security I feel when I hear a four-on-the-floor kick drum, how it’s a reliable, unobtrusive friend whose steady rhythm perfectly complements and/or enhances traveling anywhere in the world. It’s the foundation by which even the most alien or arrhythmic soundscape can seem effortlessly listenable. Everything from industrial techno to noodley jazz-house is grounded to a steady beat, anchored in repetition. From this launching point, I find myself freely able to daydream while still being inside the groove and cognizant of the track’s direction. Dance music encourages passing thoughts, it seeks to gently harmonize with your brain, not interfere with it. I have enough stress, responsibility, and sensory stimuli to deal with in life before music is even in the picture demanding my concentration. House, like any good friend, seems to intrinsically inspires me to creativity and inspiration by leaving out all the notes, vocals, and clearly delineated sections. It’s as if my mind is filling in all the blank spaces with thoughts.

The way I see it, rock and pop is always aiming quench your thirst, to fulfill you. But in my mind, the more we think of music as a savior to redeem us, as something that will lift our spirits up from the tedium of the world, the harder it becomes to achieve the desired excitement and stimulation. Fulfillment breeds dormancy, and this leads to people complaining that there is nothing new out there, even if they are a victim of their own set ways. I believe the key to avoiding fatigue in the arts is to permit yourself some emotional breathing room, always allowing space for desires and passions to develop when you listen to music. I have found this metaphysical space in dance music, where freedom and creativity are spawned from the enduring strength of active indifference.

[Michael F. Gill]