Instrumentals

I finally had a chance to peruse Geddy Lee's bass book. One might think that instrument collecting misses the point of music--that it is of lesser importance than to simply playing the instruments. Instruments, of course, have innate essences beyond their utilitarian nature. They can be works of art set in the right context.

Knowing music scientifically through a thorough and mechanical understanding of music theory can inform what humans, music, and instruments are capable of through process, but it doesn't address the mystery within music-making. It is just as mysterious that Rush became as successful as they did considering how outside the mainstream they were (an even more so now). Even in the mid-70s, they weren't trying to be anything that they would eventually become. That's where it isn't scientific--and is all mystery. In new age circles, it called being "in alignment" with a predetermined plan for us as (non-egoic) individuals, culminating in [S]elf-actualization. I now believe, at least for now, one has to be of two minds in art: one is at the more mundane, and the other more spiritual.

What I found remarkable was that Lee decided to collect the instruments and write a book about them rather than use them to make more music. The reason may be that he is now a part of the story in which all the collected instruments tell as a whole. It can also be an access point to the band if you've never heard of them, or an access point to picking up an instrument, which can be in some other form, such as a book. Books might be a more effective medium for storytelling through a collection of objects, rather than through cryptic poetic or lyrical constructions.

A digression:

John Polkinghorne is an interesting example of someone with a physics background who became an Anglican priest. In music, the corollary is the realization that music is not just music theory and gear; It has to have some element of storytelling, which may not involve making actual music, but rather being a part of a spiritual practice which is holistic and doesn’t dismiss certain elements out of hand. It wasn't about the music itself (the "inside" elements), but rather the "outside" elements: an instrument collection, stories, memories, which lead back to the music as an inside phenomenon, and adds more to the stories as originally conceived when Neil Peart was writing them. Ideally, musical works should continually evolve, both from the inside (using music rudiments) and from the outside ("epicultural", as in epigenetic--a circumstantial shaping of genetics--or mimetics). The reverse also works where "inside" is defined by the spiritual, and "outside" defined as the scientific and theoretical, and for musicians--the Gear.

But ultimately, the musician that is truly “aligned” must get back inside making music. Nonetheless, it’s helpful to go outside for a while.

The joy in one's work (right livelihood) is the ultimate of what life can produce.

My well-worn, most-played 1962 Jazz (2007)