This is Kate's thread about the communal aspect of music

There were only two bits of Church that I enjoyed - the bits where we sang, and the coffee hour afterwards, where we got to skylark around the building with the other kids.

To this day, music is a participatory thing. I want to be a part of it. I keep waiting for the bits where we *all* get to sing.

Music is the closest thing in my life to religion. All the things that religion promised me (and failed) music delivered. It's a vast otherworldly experience, the glimpse of something more, transcendance sometimes peace, sometimes unbearable excitement and an almost Dionysian surrender.

Music is not simply a lifestyle accessory for me, aural wallpaper to distract from the sheer unending boredom of existence. And music is not some dry, dead, accademic subject to be debated like the theological minutia of how many angels can dance on the head of a pin and how many Chicago Post-Rock producers does it take to ruin Stereolab. Music is an utterly integral part of Who. I. Am.

I was an unpopular kid at school - you know the deal, the wrong clothes, spots, greasy hair, good grades and god-help-us, an *accent*. At the QE2, none of this mattered. Greasy hair was de rigeur, paired with a homemade t-shirt and an army jacket and you were IN! You were accepted. ONE OF US. It was the kind of intellectual freedom that I'd been looking for at school and never found - you could walk up to someone simply because they had a similar haircut or the same badge, and instantly engage in conversation - not just about music, but about radical politics, experimental art or French poetry.

Scenes are dangerous, hive-mind seems unavoidable. There's a difference between people coming together saying "I like you because we both like Band X" and turning that into the dogma of "We are alike, therefore, we MUST like Band Y" or even worse, "I *don't* like you because you don't like Band X." expand on this

Ambition gets in the way. I am never one to sneer at people who want to make a living doing what they love. But what I ultimately wanted from music was a *community* - rather than a career. I have always been looking to be a part of something greater, linking people together through the obsessions that they share. I get hurt, I get disappointed, when people I thought I shared something *special* with turn around and use me for what I can do for them, and then throw me away.

Oh shit, the server is back up, I've got to do some work.

people who are teetotal are all non drinkers

people who post to an internet community are all members of the community

it is impossible to be an outsider, there is no such thing. calum, doomie, ronan and dave stelfox are not outsiders to ilx. they are core members. my mum is an outsider to ilx, she has never posted to ilx or even seen it.

a country encompasses all the live in, even those that hate it, and even those that others in that country reject.

a community encompasses all that post to it, even those that dont like it, and even those that are rejected by other members

calum bashes ILM, this does not stop him being part of ilm. if a new person finds ilm tomorrow, they will see a bunch of names in a row. they will not know which ones consider themselves inside and outside the community. they will be unable to distinguish. they will all be 'ilm posters'

-- gareth (garet...), May 22nd, 2003.

I was walking down a street late one evening. Some covers band were playing in a pub. They were playing Daydream Believer by the Monkees, and it was sufficiently loud that you could hear it in the street. And then, when the band reached the "Cheer up sleepy Jean" bit (or rather the "BA BA BA BA BA BA BA" bit) EVERYONE in the street joined in and started singing, like we were in a music video or something.

I mean, how many times have people subconsciously acted out the headbanging to Boho Rapso from Waynes World? THat's just a minor example, but yeah.

BUT!!! I am getting derailed here. I really don't want to start chattering because this will distract me and make my thread unwieldy.

Kate, I feel just as yuo do about music. At a lot of times it pretty much _is_ my life.

"Music is the closest thing in my life to religion. All the things that religion promised me (and failed) music delivered"

This sounds like a Springsteen quote. I'd be interested in knowing what your thoughts about him are, Kate. Do you like him?

This also sounds like a Springsteen lyric, somehow.

So I guess I just don't get it, I'm the outsider of outsider music. Pieces like this reduce the magazine to a clique newsletter with it's in jokes, knowing dancefloor nods and shameless backslapping. I haven't asked to join so why do you keep going on about it?

The thing is... this is half of what I *love* about music. Feeling like you are part of a gang. One of us, one of us. Scenesters are wrong when they are about *exclusion* - sneering at you for wearing the wrong clothes or liking the wrong band. But for me, the music community is about *inclusion*. Not even that you like the same bands as me - but that you care as passionately about music as me. It's not necessarily the music, but the *passion* that counts.

For example, there is a club that I go to every month, called Guinea Pig. I am Miss Thing there - I walk in and I know the guy on the door, I know the promoter, I know the DJ, I've had a crush on the soundman for years, I know half the crowd and the half I don't know, I can still strike up a conversation with them, and we will have something in common, be it that show last night on Resonance FM or that Quickspace gig in Stoke Newington last week. I know the house band, Now - I sing along with their songs like they are hymns, I love them so much. Instead of communion wafers, we are given sampler CDs to take home, with the music of the bands that play the club.

This makes me a scenester, I guess, but goddammit, what's wrong with that? Human beings are social animals. The urge to belong, to be accepted, understood, to connect with other people is as primal as the drive to eat, sleep or mate. Music is a connecting force, something so powerful that it drives strangers to bond dancing in the front row of concerts. The transcendant urge that music brings is not a solitary thing to be savoured on headphones in your bedroom (well, not all the time at least) - it's a thing to be shared. Music is more real when I'm alone goes the song, but no, it's wrong. Music is more real when I'm leaping up and down, arms around my best mates, screaming the words along at top volume.

LUNCH...

Funnily enough, for sometime I've never enjoyed music more than the times when I'm playing it to other people, in a rush of "check THIS out" enthusiasm. It's as if I can only recieve confirmation through sharing stuff.

But thank you for your appreciation of GP and of Now - that's exactly the kinda thing we were trying to do with Guinea Pig, create a space where stuff we liked happened and a good place to hang out with our friends and make new ones (in part a response to the demise of the Kosmische club, where I spent 5 happy years leaping up and down to Can once a month, met my boyfriend, formed bands etc) Like you say, it's not a 'scene', the GP thing. How could it be when we've had freejazz, Japanese punk pop, *serious* prog, laptop noodling...and some maudlin indie singing also, ok, ok.... But I'm glad you are enjoying it, it makes it worthwhile, you know? :-) And now I am going home to die, so see y'all at the next one, June 8th, with Charles Hayward, Limn, and (hopefully) the lovely and Norwegian Salvatore....

It seems to start with:

We all like X, therefore we shall be friends.

Where you go from that proposition decides whether it becomes clique, scene or community.

-If you do not like X then we want nothing to do with you
-We hate/like Y so you must ALL hate/like Y as well

are some negative aspects which lead to cliques or scenes

-If you also like X, then you're alright with us
-Lots of us also like Y, so if you like Y, you are welcome to join us, too, even if you're not partial to X

And the like are things that lead to community.

I never liked rock shows even when I liked the music.

Of course, there's also the communalism of being part of a crowd at a live performance, or in a club, or sitting around playing music with just three or four friends. All different, but all ways of connecting to other people through music. That's why I think even the most abrasive, assaultive music is still about connection -- the person who made the music is communicating something, and if you happen to be one of the people who can actually hear the communication through the layers of assault, then you connect to it. Hell, even "Fuck you" is a communication, and it can be exhilarating if you happen to be in the mood to hear it.

I'd have to say that one of the major reasons I've avoided doing much of anything "about" music (i.e. writing, working in the biz, etc.) in my life is because of a fear (not necessarily a realistic one, mind you) that I'd lose this communal aspect that you're talking about. And yeah, it can be a bummer to find that you don't get along with people with whom you share like-minded tastes, but it's less and less a problem for me as I get older. I think one of the reasons I came to appreciate ILM (and have turned from a grump and a slagger into someone that - I hope - actually participates) is that I'm finding just as much in common in terms of thought/ideas with people that I don't have anything in common with in terms of taste.

Also, in terms of creating music, one of the things that's always drawn me to free jazz and improv and communal hippy dirt jams and whatnot is the idea of what do you do when you want to create something spontaneous and communally but not everyone knows the words to said karaoke song? Or what do you do if you wanna throw out the song and just create? So in some ways - and yes it can be irrelevant or boring to an audience - the act of creation (playing) is as important, sometimes more so than the end result (listening).

And yeah, big jam sessions can be ridiculously fun. I remember wandering into a group of friends and acquaintances staging an impromptu recording session in the lobby of building while I was at college. I started out on tambourine, moved onto drums, then played bass. Instruments were being passed around with almost total disregard to anyone's ability to play them. The weird thing was, the tape sounded kinda good (well, to us anyway). If anyone calls an NYC open jam, I'll bring my six-string and sticks.