The return of office music: is it better than silence – or much, much worse?

Why not read this while listening to the soundtrack to which it was written? There is a weird video on YouTube called Stimulus Progression. What sounds like a technique developed by Alfred Kinsey is in fact 90 minutes of "music at work", released in the 1970s by Muzak, the background-music merchants. I have put it on at full blast, although I don't recommend you do the same.

For decades, it was thought that playing music in our places of work would boost morale and productivity. Before it terrorised hotel guests and shoppers, Muzak originally set out to rally workers with 15-minute cycles of slowly climaxing, terrible music. It makes me feel like Don Draper trapped in a lift. My productivity is peaking only because I want to finish and turn it off.

The BBC piped the uplifting classical music show Music While You Work into factories during the war, but work music fell out of favour among everyone but mechanics and maverick surgeons (a friend of mine recently gave birth by caesarean to the tune of Madonna's Holiday). Now, it seems, office music may be making a return.

PRS for Music, which gathers royalties for the industry, granted 27,000 licences to workplaces to play music last year – 8% more than in 2015. Anecdotal evidence is rife of the widespread streaming of Spotify playlists across desks (doing so without a licence is technically illegal, because it counts as broadcasting).

"For many people here, music is part and parcel of their life," says Karen Byrne, the chief operating officer of Zone, a digital agency in London and Bristol with 260 employees. The company has several Spotify accounts and licenses music from PRS (prices start from about £50 a year). It plays calmer music when "harmony" is required in the business and faster-tempo songs "when people are lagging".

At Tab Media, a startup news network, editor-in-chief Joshi Herrmann recently returned to the New York office to find music playing. "So many offices are silent now, because of headphones," he says. "So, if playing music means fewer headphones, I'm down."

Sven Grundberg works at Soundtrack Your Brand, a Swedish Spotify spin-off that builds playlists for companies. Their clients are mostly retailers, but enquiries from offices are becoming more common. His colleagues – about 70 of them – do not hear music at their desks ("we don't want to force it on people"), but the company plays music in communal areas, where workers can skip tracks and adjust the volume, but not the contents of the playlist. "If you let people play what they want, they play Skrillex and that just pisses everyone off," he warns. Not as much as Muzak's Stimulus Progression, Sven – trust me.

Music is at the very heart of one East End school

Stephen Moss (Why not put music at the heart of education?, 19 June) argues that music education should not be limited to private schools and children of "thrusting middle-class parents". He holds up Finland as an example. At Gallions primary school in Beckton, music is at the heart of the school. It is in a socially and economically deprived corner of east London, but the school is joyous and alive. Gallions is not a specialist music school but has successfully integrated music into the curriculum, both as a subject in its own right and as a medium through which to teach other subjects. For instance, singing supports the development of language, which is crucial, especially for our youngest pupils and the 67% of Gallions pupils for whom English is not their first language. Using number songs has proven a brilliant way to teach maths in the younger year groups.

Every child at Gallions learns an instrument – violin, viola, cello or double bass – free of charge, and many pupils take advantage of the opportunity to take an instrument home with them to practice. The school’s choirs and orchestras are simply outstanding. Pupils have gone on to win places in the National Children’s Orchestra, London Symphony Orchestra’s young talent schemes and other incredible opportunities. Learning a musical instrument is challenging, it demands fine motor skills and coordination. It develops children’s listening, thinking skills, imagination and perseverance. It brings out the very best in the children as they work collaboratively with their peers and teachers.

Performances give children a goal to work towards and great self-confidence, especially performing in front of proud parents, and has taken them to the Barbican Centre, the Royal Festival Hall and Birmingham Symphony Hall. I am deeply proud to be associated with the music programme at Gallions. At a time of cutbacks in the arts, they provide a perfect example of the value of music in the curriculum and children’s lives.

Bret Michaels Says Poison’s Fights Were Always About Music

 

Bret Michaels has insisted that even though he regularly fought with his Poison bandmates in the '80s and '90s, the disagreements were always about their music, and were never personal.

The original lineup — featuring Michaels, guitarist C.C. DeVille, bassist Bobby Dall and drummer Rikki Rockett — is currently touring with Def Leppard. It's their first U.S. road trip since 2012, after Michaels' solo career interests had made it seem as if a reunion couldn't be arranged.

And now that all four men are in their fifties, the fighting is behind them. "We've all knocked the s— out of each other – but a day later we're in the same room, working this s— out," Michaels told Rolling Stone. "Our arguments were never about whose bus is closer to backstage. They were always over songs in the set and stuff like that. Except for one big one with C.C., where we were belligerent drunk and I was smelling of whiskey and bad decisions."

Poison remain on the road until the end of June, but not even the band members know what's in store afterward. "If it takes me four years to get Bret to agree to play a tour, you never know if there's going to be another one," Dall said. "It's gotten so hard to just get it done."

Dall admitted that Michaels had upset his colleagues when he began performing Posion songs as part of his solo sets. "If I'm being honest, I think it would bother anybody," the bassist said. "And if anybody in the band tells you otherwise, I'd think they're lying."

"There's no malicious reason I do it," Michaels countered. "It's just in addition to what I do with Poison. You don't get to stay here for 30 years by accident. I'm comfortable in my own skin."

Annual showcase celebrates local music

It will be a reunion and a showcase of area talent on Saturday when The State Theatre’s Return of the Native Sons & Daughters show returns. The event features an array of local artists representing the best in State College independent music.

“This is a very close knit, incestuous music community and there is some amazing original music being produced here,” said local music fixture Ted McCloskey. “Unfortunately, most people don’t get to see and hear a lot of it. Well, here’s an incredible opportunity to see a prime sampler of that songwriting at a beautiful venue.”

McCloskey said he’s grateful for the opportunity to view his peers in their natural state, even if the chance doesn’t come around very often.

“I really look forward to seeing everyone,” he said. “One of the downfalls of playing six nights a week is that I don’t get to see other the artists as much as I like to.”

Natty Lou Race, of Raven and the Wren, agrees with McCloskey.

“Due to similar schedules in the entertainment business, it is not often to have a night off to go and listen to another band,” Race said. “Nights like this are most fun for musicians because we all get to enjoy each other’s performances.”

Race think that this area is conducive to independent musicians.

“The musicians in the area have a wonderful web of support seemingly ‘built in.’ Whether you’re fresh on the scene or a veteran of 40-plus years, all are welcomed, encouraged and befriended,” Race said. “I have personal relationships with many of the musicians on the Native Sons and Daughters bill.”

Noah Figlin, singer and guitarist for The Unbanned, has been a perennial part of the State College music scene for more than a decade and said he feels at home as a “native son.”

“The first show of this kind was in 2007 and it was a blast,” Figlin said. “It was an original showcase and album release party for The Nightcrawlers, The Rustlanders and Ted & the Hi-Fi’s. I believe each band played their entire record to a really appreciative and diverse audience. We all had a great time.”

Beyond being friendly, Figlin believes the local scene is packed with serious talent.

“The State College music scene is pretty multifaceted,” Figlin said. “There are a lot of really talented players and good bands who play a lot of different styles. The cool part is that among players who have been around for a while, almost everyone knows each other and is supportive of each other’s music. There are a fair number of serious artists here who really care about the music they make, and we all have a lot of mutual respect for one another.”

Nate Cushall, of The Tommy Roberts, agrees about the high quality of musical talent in Happy Valley.

“(It’s) a small, but very talented and supportive scene,” Cushall said. “We’ve got world class players here. Somebody good is playing somewhere most nights of the week.”

Cushall, much like his peers, is excited to see the other acts.

“I’m really looking forward to seeing everyone, but I love Miss Melanie and the Valley Rats, and Raven and the Wren,” he said. “Also, I haven’t seen Lemont play under their new name yet, so I’m looking forward to hearing their new stuff. Mark Ross has been a mentor to both Brian (Cleary) and myself. He produced our first album, helped us get into the scene and is constantly after our wallets to buy new amps and guitars.”

The young musician think that anyone who attends the show will have a positive experience and become more interested in the local music scene.

“If you want to have a good time, and get hip to some of the best bands/musicians in State College, this is your all inclusive ticket,” Cushall said. “If you’ve never been to one of these local shows before, or aren’t super familiar with the scene, you will be educated by the time the show is over.”

Ambient pioneer Midori Takada: 'Everything on this earth has a sound'

As minimalism and ambient music grew and developed from the subtle piano of Erik Satie to the more avant garde work of Terry Riley and John Cage, moving from the fringes to mainstream respectability or at least airport lounges, the best known names have been mostly male, and mainly from the west.

Midori Takada, a composer and percussionist in Japan who released a string of mindblowing records beginning in the 1980s, challenges that order. Many call her work minimalism; her interlocking patterns bring to mind Steve Reich, in particular. Her layers of rich textures and atmospheres are sometimes reminiscent of Brian Eno’s classic ambient work. Through it all, she created a sound that is uniquely her own.

Takada was part of the Mkwaju Ensemble, a short-lived Japanese group comprised of Takada and fellow Japanese musicians Joe Hisaishi, Yoji Sadanari, Junko Arase and Hideki Matsutake, which released two dynamite records, Mkwaju and Ki-Motion, on the Better Days label in Japan in 1981. Their hypnotic music feels inspired by Reich and Terry Riley, and by various forms of African drumming (the word “mkwaju” comes from Swahili). At times, their music sounds like early techno, possibly due to the involvement of Matsutake, better known for his work in Logic System and as a “secret member” of Yellow Magic Orchestra. (The first Mkwaju Ensemble album would not be out of place mixed into a DJ set today.)

What I wanted to compose was impossible to notate, and each sound was painted like on a sound canvas
Takada then broke out into a solo career. Her mesmerizing debut Through the Looking Glass, released in Japan in 1983, has become something of a holy grail for collectors – original pressings have fetched as much as $750 on Discogs. For years, her albums were exceedingly difficult to find. But Through the Looking Glass is now in print again thanks to a new reissue, released this month.

Through the Looking Glass was recorded in only two days, with Takada playing an enormous range of different instruments and found objects including marimbas, reed organs, gongs, ocarinas, bells and Coca-Cola bottles, using them to create her own “band” with layers of overdubs. “Through the Looking Glass is an album that could only be created in the studio, says Takada by email from Japan, via a translator. “What I wanted to compose was impossible to notate, and each sound was painted like on a sound canvas.”

Takada put a good deal of thought into selecting the various sounds on Through the Looking Glass; some of the sounds on the album hold deeper symbolic meaning in Japanese culture. “A reed organ is a small foot pedal organ that was a regulation instrument in pre-war Japanese elementary schools,” she explains. “The children would sing along with this instrument and learn new music. It continued to be used after the war for a while, but afterwards, it was changed to a piano, so I used it for nostalgia’s sake. Here we see a process where Japanese children’s ears adapted to western equal temperament.”

“The Coca-Cola bottle is something I played with like a flute when I was a child,” she continues. “I remember it being a perfect tool to make miniature breezes. Before the actual recording, I tried using large sake bottles, but they were too big and it made me feel dizzy. In the end, I put some water into the Coke bottle and made a pitch which when I blew into it, fit perfectly with the music that I was trying to create. I do not discriminate whether it is a sound coming from a musical instrument or noise.”

Her ideas on ambient music are intriguing; much of it, she says, is calming and soothing when it could be more reflective of nature and society. “As environmental music, it had a capacity and purpose to contribute positively to society,” she says. “I listened to Brian Eno’s Music For Airports. I remember thinking it to be a new sensibility that was being honed in an urban environment. And furthermore, a feeling of solitude as well.”

Takada is a deep thinker on sound, and some of her sonic explanations verge on the mystical. “Everything that exists on this earth has a sound,” she says. “Even if humans don’t call it an instrument, on this earth, there exists a significant vibrancy.”