Playtime Magazine Edition Header
Home » December 2008, Music

Adventures in Ambience - An Ambient Music Primer

27 November 2008 454 Views One Comment author: Daniel Davis

Adventures in Ambience - An Ambient Music Primer

To some audiophiles, ‘ambient’ is just a fancy, hipper term for ‘New Age’ music. While some may not distinguish between ‘ambient’ and ‘New Age’, or hear the differences between the music of Brian Eno and Yanni, or Harold Budd and John Tesh, and still others wouldn’t give this music more attention than the time they spend in a dentist’s office or a yoga studio, there are distinct qualities that distinguish these two forms of music from one another.

Allow me a chance to define ambient music, at least in terms that I understand and have observed. To me, great ambient music is more than just background music. It makes reading, thinking, and being more enjoyable and more serene. Ambient music is music that puts the mind in a contemplative mood by creating atmosphere. The music can be relaxing, and chilled-out to, thus moving into the background, or it can be engaged as intensely as a piece of technically complex math rock. What is most important is the mood and atmosphere created by the music. It does not need to convey any certain mood — it need not be peaceful or tranquil, although it often is — but it needs to conjure a deep and tangible atmosphere: the ‘ambience.’ We may not notice that ambient music is playing, but once it shuts off we should be aware that something is missing. Some ambient music is dark and sinister, cold and sterile, while some is as welcoming as a warm summer breeze in Seattle.

This genre is as wide and varied as rock: deep ambient, trance, chanting, minimalist classical, experimental electronic, world music, and drone-rock can all be considered sub-genres of this enigmatic audiosphere. While ambient-style music has been around for centuries, it wasn’t until 1978 that the term was actually coined to describe the movement. The man to conceive of the term was none other than Brian Eno, and with his album, Ambient 1: Music for Airports, he set the airwaves on fire, to be followed by an onslaught of chart-topping singles by other artists.

Okay, the second part of the above statement isn’t true at all. I’d be surprised to learn of any ambient song topping any chart not specifically devoted to the genre. However, Eno did send ripples throughout the small community of fans and like-minded artists, an insular group of audio junkies thriving on each subsequent release. His release was a kind of sonic magnet that pulled others into the fold of the genre by giving the movement a name and helping to identify some of its qualities.

My own two-part litmus test for what makes a great ambient album great is simple:

1. A great ambient album can be listened to passively and not be a distraction.

and

2. A great ambient album can be listened to actively and be enjoyed as a piece of music.

However, this is not to say that these are the only qualities I look for in ambient music. Dictating exactly what I look for in a well-produced ambient album is as hard to do as defining the genre itself. There are simply too many sub-genres, too many moods and atmospheres, to put such a fine point on it.

Throughout this ongoing project I will be writing about many ambient albums and songs. Some, like Steve Roach’s Structures From Silence, will be prototypical examples of the genre in its most basic form; while others, like Marconi Union’s Distance (to be reviewed at a later date), are on the fringe of the genre, resting upon the membrane between jazz, experimental, and post-rock.

I hope you enjoy the trip.

1. The Pearl - Brian Eno and Harold Budd (with Daniel Lanois) (1984)

It’s been written and said before, but it is worth repeating: the fade-in to this album’s first track, ‘Late October’, is one of music’s most perfect moments. As if plucked from the ether of tranquility, Harold Budd’s softly ambling piano melody, accompanied and treated by Brian Eno’s quiet and shimmering textures, glides into existence, bringing with it the promise of an album teeming with haunting beauty.

As it is introduced, so it fades away, and ‘Late October’ concedes to ‘A Stream With Bright Fish.’ The name of this track conjures many images, and the composition gives form to these mental phantoms. Here Budd’s piano is heavily sedated with cavernous reverb and sustain, while Eno’s sonic-manipulation drones away in the distance. Together these two create a rich and textured stereofield in which every note is perfectly nestled. Budd and Eno create a sense of three-dimensional sound; actual space for the listener to wade through, like warm, smooth water.

Each track here adds volume to the ocean of sound, creating layers of atmospheric soundscapes to explore.

The Pearl is built upon a simple concept. Brian Eno recorded and manipulated Harold Budd’s piano playing. All of the sounds come from Budd’s piano, although some have been so treated that they no longer resemble the acoustic instrument from which they were born. Eno is a master of sonic manipulation, the Dean of transforming an artist’s music into something beyond what that original artist envisioned. Harold Budd is also a master — his signature piano playing is undeniably memorable and skillful. And of course all of this was overseen and engineered by Daniel Lanois, the man at the board.

I was first introduced to the work of Harold Budd when he collaborated with the Cocteau Twins on The Moon and the Melodies, and my first introduction to Brian Eno was his production work on U2’s The Unforgettable Fire. I can’t remember how I first stumbled upon The Pearl, but ever since doing so, it has remained one of my most listened to albums. I wore out my tape, replaced that with a CD, and finally, most recently, replaced my scratched up CD with a download from iTunes. For more than two years this album has been on my iPod.

The Pearl, along with another album to be mentioned later, has become my goto soundtrack for reading Philip K. Dick. I find that a lot of the ambient music I listen to greatly enhances the kind of science fiction I like to read. I’ve come to associate this album with PKD so acutely that I cannot listen to the album without picturing in my mind scenes from books like Martian Time Slip and The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch.

I often wonder how Brian Eno, a devout atheist, would respond to how spiritually edifying I find this album? Some albums speak to the body, others speak to mind; The Pearl speaks straight to my soul. Eno has said before that he is an anti-romantic. He does not believe anything comes from outside of us; it all resides and comes from within. There is nothing out there guiding us. As a religious person, I greatly disagree with this, and the way this music moves me only strengthens my opinion. Budd’s piano and Eno’s treatments guide and lead me to a very personal and spiritual place. As ‘Late October’ fades into my reality, stress and ill will fade out from my mind, and I find myself more at ease with my surroundings.


2. Structures From Silence - Steve Roach (1984)

Steve Roach’s Structures From Silence is the prototypical ambient album. I would wager that when most people think of ambient music, they imagine something a lot like this. It’s very synthy; the album contains three long compositions (ranging from 13 minutes to 28 minutes in length), and it has probably made an appearance in every yoga studio and massage parlor around the globe.

Music like this is the hardest to defend against the accusations of New Age trappings. But the music here is far too good to be discarded into the hippie bins of music stores and shackled with the negative stigmas often associated with the New Age label. While the compositions here are relaxing, they are also incredibly nuanced and thoughtfully composed. A careful listener can distinguish between the music made strictly for stereotypically New Age practices and settings, and the music made for more creative reasons by an artist possessing complex intentions.

Steve Roach is such an artist. And perhaps herein lies a trait distinguishing the kind of ambient music heard here from its new age cousin: the intent of the artist; Steve Roach’s music is intensely personal. New Age music is purposefully made for certain settings and activities, and it is most often only listened to in those environments. That is, it is deliberately made for other people to listen to while doing specific things, and thus the New Age artist is producing music for the activity, rather than the listener. Roach’s music comes straight from the heart and soul of an artist with a personal vision, and while his vision may coincide with a New Age philosophy (a focus placed on personal spiritual growth), and is embrace by the New Age crowd, it is still a vision defined by the artist’s signature touches.

I will admit that trying to determine an artist’s intent is hard, sometimes impossible, to do based solely on the music being heard. However, after a period of time and research, the artist’s intent becomes clearer. This is not a sure fire way to separate the quality ambient music from the sea of New Age mediocrity, but at least it is a start.

Structures From Silence is often hailed as one of the seminal ambient albums, and rightly so. The opening track, ‘Reflections in Suspension’, is beautiful and contains a softly bubbling rhythm comprised only of melodic tones and pulses, not percussion. The rhythms created by the pulsing arpeggios create feelings of being suspended in an uncanny calmness. Sometimes ambient music has a tendency to shirk melody in favor of atmosphere, but such is not the case here.

The second track, ‘Quiet Friend,’ is a favorite of mine. The subtle, minute melody floats along, ebbing like waters upon a shore. The melody never appears to repeat itself, and for just over 13 minutes it constantly changes and morphs until finally completely transforming during its final moments, not unlike a butterfly birthed from the silky carcass of its cocoon.

The album closes with the title track, and at almost 30 minutes in length it is an undeniably epic experience. Like ‘Quiet Friend’, ‘Structures From Silence’ is made up of large synth-pads, but here the melody repeats itself, often calling attention to the overriding themes. While not quite as interesting as the first two compositions, it is still a track full of haunting beauty. There are times when it becomes so quiet a listener may be tempted to check to see if it is still playing; this is a brave move, and reinforces that this music is meant to be actively engaged and not just passively absorbed.


3. Slider: Ambient Excursions for Pedal - Bruce Kaphan (2000)

To finish off this initial trilogy of reviews, I am including an album to balance out the prototypical music of Roach’s Structures From Silence. If you’ve been listening to alternative rock for the last two decades or so, there is a good chance that you’ve already heard the work of Bruce Kaphan — the dude is insanely prolific. He was a member of American Music Club, and he has worked with R.E.M., Victor Krummenacher, David Byrne, Jewel, Red House Painters, and The Black Crowes, just to name a few.

Bruce Kaphan is a go to man for that most wonderful, and difficult, of all stringed instruments: the pedal steel guitar. This is especially true when an artist needs a PSG player willing to think outside of the country western box. It is safe to say that Kapahn (and Daniel Lanois, an artist who will be looked at in more detail later) has elevated the art of PSG playing to a whole new level.

However, chances are that you’ve never heard the PSG played like it is here, on Kaphan’s first and only solo album — Slider: Ambient Excursions for Pedal Steel Guitar. While Daniel Lanois initiated my interest in the instrument, it was Bruce Kaphan that truly made me realize just how flexible and interesting the PSG can sound.

Many people have favorite songs, but I wonder how many people have favorite opening guitar chords? I have two. The first is found on Pink Floyd’s Meddle, on the song ‘Fearless,’ and the second is found here, on ‘Clouds,’ the opening track of Kaphan’s groundbreaking album. The gentle strumming and ringing of this initial chord at once prepare my mind for the brilliance that is to come. I hear that tone and I instantly know that I am about to experience an hour’s worth of complex, bold, and intricately composed music. Accompanying the PSG on this tune is a fretless bass, grounding the flighty and feathery melodies in a jazz-based foundation.

While ‘Clouds’ prepares the listening for what is to come, the next tune, ‘Country & Eastern,’ reinforces the idea behind the albums themes. As stated before, the PSG is most often associated with country western. However, ambient music is often associated with an Eastern sound and philosophy (thus the New Age labeling). Here, Kaphan marries a Western-themed melody and instrument with an Eastern atmosphere and percussion. He melds the two in a way that simultaneously conjures images of the vast Arizona desert and the grassy plains of Mongolia. These two landscapes lend themselves to detailed musical interpretation, and Kaphan captures the sounds of both with nuanced skill.

The album continues to explore this interesting juxtaposition of Western and Eastern aesthetics, and only once dips into territory dangerously close to New Age, with the track “Back to the Light.” This track utilizes some less-than-authentic-sounding sitar and percussion sounds that bring to mind the most generic of Eastern CD samples often used on badly-produced techno. However cheesy that aforementioned track is, the rest of the album is a complete masterpiece. The final four tracks especially — ‘Arc of Flight,’ ‘Homage,’ ‘Undeserved Ending,’ and ‘Shinn Pond’ — form a memorable excursion into a landscape both familiar and alien, defined by auditory stimuli.

Hearing Kaphan pluck the strings of his dual-necked PSG (using a custom C6th and E9th copedent) is a humbling experience. What’s more, Kaphan never lets his skill get in the way of his taste — a problem that many technical guitar players have. Like King Crimson’s Robert Fripp, Kaphan knows he’s talented and doesn’t feel the need to show off. His playing style perfectly compliments the atmosphere and mood of the album.

I discovered this album recently — this year to be more precise. It has since become one of my most listened to recordings. I like it so much that I actually purchased a pedal steel guitar. That is saying something. Bruce Kaphan’s music has inspired in me the desire to expand my own musical knowledge, and I cannot think of a greater compliment to pay another musician.

One Comment »

  • D.J. Bigalke said:

    Good stuff here, Davis. I had considered myself semi-aware of the ambient music scene, but the only artist I’ve heard of from your article is Brian Eno. I’m looking forward to future updates to see if you include some of my favorites.

Leave your response!

Add your comment below, or trackback from your own site. You can also subscribe to these comments via RSS.

Be nice. Keep it clean. Stay on topic. No spam.

You can use these tags:
<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>

Playtime Magazine Copyright 2008-2009