What is this coughy body that spasms primordial ooze in the way of snot, mucus, and liquid carbonite? Am I only so many references, layered on top of each other, with a chocolate chip cookie face? To what degree do we look at music as a living, breathing entity of itself, and who sets the groundwork, the busy body of it all? What’s context in a global environment?
A global music environment? The word is a virus, Burroughs has said – all words down to the signposts of language, the signified versus the sign —-> which one is real? Boundaries go down, new ones are built up. Can you own the Internet? Can you own a field? Can you own a stream? Can you own consciousness?
Can you hone own consciousness? Tune it to understand that amidst all this static around us (for it flows, the information suprahighway through every pore on my body, through every molecule that makes up the sea and every green gook in my nostril)… Can we take it further?
What is pretension? That one person composes a work of art and assumes someone else wants to view/hear/read/eat it? Does audacity enter the equation? What is audacity and pretension on a global scale? I believe it ceases to exist in this post-postmodern world, if it ever existed before. There are silly boys who where funny clothes who will fish in the giant sea of consciousness, pull out a virus and say: “THIS virus is pretension. THIS virus tries.” What can we do if we don’t try? If we don’t try where are we going to go?
What is pretentious (what is not pretentious) about presenting some music, that comes from within that may be abstract, may be slightly difficult, may in fact not represent music at all as you—the individual—has ever known? (You the individual vs. The entire world—where’s the context?)
Pretension doesn’t exist in a world of transparent context, except in the minds of the fallible spite.