Kaelen Green

Cross-Currents in Rock Music

Fred Frith

Term Paper Spring 2005

A Map of Synthesis:

[Please note: all quotes unless otherwise indicated are from the interview with Robby Rothschild cited in the bibliography. Char Rothschild was not able to participate in the interview, but places his confidence in Robby’s responses.]

The band Round Mountain consists of two brothers, Char and Robby Rothschild, born, raised, and currently residing in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Both musicians from early childhood, Char (33) and Robby (29), have played in wide variety of contexts, including multiple Rock and Funk and Bands, a traditional Celtic trio, Char as accompaniment for a Russian Circus performing in Japan, and Robby as a percussionist for a Marimba band, flamenco virtuoso Ottmar Liebert, and as a djembe accompaniment for African dance classes for over a decade, among others. The Rothchilds’ own musical voices have evolved in the last few years into their difficult-to-classify endeavor, Round Mountain. The brothers have gathered extensive musical influences from numerous traditions around the world and blended them with remarkable congruency to build original songs upon international folk foundations.

Given music’s status as a primary representation of tradition and cultural identity within the current sphere of the rapidly shrinking world, the fast-paced change and/or loss of traditions, and the increasing ease of availability of music due to technology, Round Mountain’s music raises a plethora of political questions. The encompassing inquiry becomes, what does it mean that a couple of Anglo American men can incorporate elements of so many geographically and cultural disparate traditions into their own compositions? Where is the line between influence and exploitation, between inspiration and trespassing? What is the role of one’s roots in dictating which material is or is not available for exploration? In a world where all the doors have been flung open where geographical separation once kept them closed, where processes of influence are speeding in fast forward that were once slowed by oceans, deserts, and mountains, where does justice lie?

In search of knowledge of traditional music, the Rothschilds traveled to Mali, West Africa, Turkey, Ireland, Brittany, Japan, Australia, and Paris, each destination yielding powerful experiences with musical culture. Sonic explorations of recordings have revealed the diverse affinities of the brothers, and supplemented the knowledge born of their travels. On their 2004 debut self-titled album, the brothers played more than twenty instruments between them, as well as contributing vocals to each of their compositions. They taught themselves to play a surprising number of these instruments, including: kora (an African stringed instrument with a skinned gourd body), hurdy gurdy (a medieval European drone instrument with crank and keys), bouzouki (originally Greek, appropriated by Irish musicians in the 1960’s), and mandola for Robby, and accordion, clarinet, trombone, banjo, and ney (classical Turkish flute) for Char. They received some training on others at Balkan Camp in Mendocino, California, including tuppan (a large double skinned Balkan drum), gaida (a bulgarian bagpipe), and saz (a long-necked Turkish lute with moveable frets). Robby has also studied djembe (African hourglass shaped drum) with teachers Moussa Traore, Mamady Keita, and Chris Berry, and Char has studied saz with Latif Bolat. Other instruments include trumpet, guitar, drum kit, bombards (Breton variant on the double reed chanter without a drone or bag), and cajón (a wooden Flamenco box drum originating in Peru). The complicated citation of the band’s instrumental tools reflects the matrix of influence with which they are entwined, but also the complexity of expressing traditions in such an un-traditional manner.

It is doubtful that Round Mountain’s music could have existed seventy, even fifty years ago, due to the brothers’ reliance on preservationist recordings, cultural attitudes, educational and travel opportunities, and simply availability and awareness of the material that inspires them and the instruments that they play. As David Toop observed, "Musicians have always stolen, borrowed, exchanged or imposed influences, but for the past one hundred years music has become voracious in its openness - vampiric in one respect, colonial in its rabid exploitation." Indeed, the last century has seen the penetration of many traditions around the globe, many of them ancient, not only by the anthropoligist and the photographer, but by the preservationist with recording devices. For years these recordings have been available on CD, and now they too are plunged in the melee of downloadable music, of potential sampling prey. This reality opens up many possible paths for use and abuse of the material. While some of these paths may lead to exploitation, "[music is] also asking to be informed and enriched by new input and the transfer of gifts," and other paths may lead to what Robby Rothschild terms, "synthesis."

For Round Mountain, the separation between exploitative sampling and synthesis is the presence or lack of cultural/musical integration. The brothers stand repulsed by "oil slick music, pop music being the oil dumped on top of the water of traditional music, giving it a sheen, making it catchy and saleable, without any real integration taking place." The Rothschilds consider this detached use of traditional music not only irreverent, but aesthetically vacuous, its creator having forfeiting the appeal of the original music by reprocessing for commercial results while remaining ignorant of its original context. Robby attests, "there are a thousand recordings of sampled Irish reels, mButu pygmy singing, thousands of unique traditions, all overlaid with a techno groove and squeezed through the twenty-first century homogenizing fusion process [and transformed] into something uninteresting." A good example of music produced in this non-integrative way is the French duo Deep Forest and their use of samples of traditional African Pygmy singing, most famously in the song "Sweet Lullaby," which reached the pop charts in Europe and Australia upon its release in 1999. The song overlays synthesized techno rhythms on top of the decades-old recording of traditional singing, which the band eventually secured the rights to. Although this style of music apparently has pop appeal for many, the traditional material is undoubtedly exoticized, and its connection to the rest of the music feels like a tenuous commercial fabrication, not a result to "gather all peoples and join all continents through the universal language of music," as the group claims. The result is that the sampler and the music’s potential audience reap very little cultural meaning from the final product, other than a bite-size exotic novelty.

Round Mountain attempts to subtly but fundamentally contrast the sampling process of mixing traditions by participating in what they see as a continuation of the age-old process of synthesis that has been operating as long as music has been played. They view synthesis clearly as a natural practice, not as a process they invented, and this understanding unlocks the synthesized nature of the very traditions the band draws from. "This rich nutritive cycle, filtered through history, land, and people, has yielded traditions which in and of themselves draw on many different sources." Traditional music, especially from cultures exoticized by the West, is often perceived as having a "pure" authenticity, which leads naturally to the perception that cross-cultural uses of traditional music is intrinsically exploitative. Round Mountain’s awareness that what we view as authentic traditional music was in turn influenced by other cultures stretching far back into their histories seems essential in their musical identities as pinpricks on an extensive continuum of synthesis, global influence, and creative and cultural evolution.

Essential to the Rothschild brothers’ interpretation of synthesis is the notion of physicality as it applies to traditional music and its integration into the creativity of individuals. Robby describes this process, saying,

Therefore, in this ideology, synthesis requires a corporeal integration, suggesting that when a passive listener or a detached sampler experiences or uses the music, its different cultural elements will remain effectively separate. This importance of physically playing and interpreting the music appears linked with the conception of synthesis as a tradition, as an act that is not original, however original each manifestation of it may be. "…The successful continuation of a tradition, even the controversial tradition of synthesis, requires an awareness of what has gone before, and cannot be accomplished by someone who considers herself the first to do so." Physically taking on the challenge of playing the music, then, is simultaneously a reverential act honoring musical heritage and a technically necessary one.

What goes unsaid in Round Mountain’s conception of the tradition of synthesis to the exclusion of sampling is that sampling is one aspect of the natural evolution of cross-cultural influence, although it may seem of a drastically different nature. The technologies that musicians used historically to emulate their influences and synthesize different traditions were instruments, memory, and sometimes notation. The technologies that musicians use today are the same, but they have been expanded to encompass the plethora of recording and amplification equipment. Robby acknowledges that techniques of sampling traditional music can produce artistically beautiful results, but the brothers feel it is more honest and respectful to use samples in such a way that their nature is clear as "SA-SA-SA-SAM-SAMPLES," rather than using them as elements in a "realistic" re-creation of something. While the brothers certainly do not deny the position of sampling as a valid manifestation of influence, leaving it out of their principle of synthesis reflects their chosen direction in terms of ethics as well as aesthetics.

The philosophy of synthesis that the brothers express with their music points to evolution, not only of music but also of consciousness, of cultural awareness, and political intentions. Their aesthetic, in which the "static" and "homogenized" use of sampled traditional music in pop songs is often repulsive, implies a self-assigned sense of responsibility to the cultures that they draw from, and the contexts in which they represent them. Round Mountain’s sensibility dictates that to engage in the cross-cultural evolution of music also means to consciously evolve in one’s awareness of traditions, of cultural identity, and one’s role in continuing and changing them. The brothers’ political and ethical aspirations reveal that their notion of synthesis exists on many more levels than just a sonic one. That being said, the Rothschilds have never viewed their efforts as instruments of justice, but simply the conscientious contributions of two artists, grateful for the richness of what has come before them.

Round Mountain set their sights on the concept of synthesis, but because the division between synthesis and exploitation is unavoidably ambiguous, despite much explanation and expressions of intention, the parameters they work inside are their own. As almost all the cultures that the brothers draw from are not their own or from their ancestry, it is not a matter of one tradition from afar being integrated into one familiar tradition, but of many being combined with each other and the original structures composed by the band. Robby defines his own guidelines intuitively, saying, "I think synthesis becomes exploitation when one element dominates, and reduces the others to exoticized caricatures. These caricatures reside in the consciousness of the culture at large, but can be unwittingly amplified in music through insensitive application, use without respect or understanding." His definition of exploitation readily points to the aforementioned techno model that is overlaid with a shiny token of exotic otherness, in the form of sampled traditional music, often looped in a small segment. Although containing Irish musicians and one African musician among its members, the group Afro Celt Sound System operates largely on this model. Traditional songs of Ireland and Africa become looped Celtic techno reels and polished African vocals over inserted insect sounds. When genuine elements of traditional instrumentation enter, they are so hollowed by synthesized accompaniment that they feel isolated on a pedestal of disconnection.

Exemplifying the contrast between the techno mélange style and Round Mountain’s notion of synthesis are their songs The Dam and The Burning Braid. The percussive rhythm in The Dam is a traditional rhythm from Mali, West Africa, called San Dia, played predominantly on djembe. The kora contributes a distinctly African sound to the song, but the melody played on it is Robby’s own composition. The vocal style and lyrics, however, hark to a (predominantly American) folk tradition. Other instruments, like hurdy-gurdy, while rooted in Medieval European tradition and offering a distinct voice, are played without reference to specific tradition. In The Burning Braid, the percussive rhythm is based on an (unspecific) African rhythm on which Char superimposed a Balkan timing signature. The riff is Char’s composition, but written in a Romani style. The lyrics and much of the vocals are again based on American folk music, but some of the vocal style is modeled on Romani singing. In this manner, the Rothschilds incorporate their influences on an equal opportunity basis, integrating them as rhythmic foundations, melodic models, and stylistic accents. The traditional influences are so intrinsic to the structure of many of the songs, integrated with each other and the original make-up of the song, that individual elements never act as separate, exotic flashes.

Synthesis positions Round Mountain’s music in an uncertain relationship to its sources. First, all of the band’s songs are original compositions, yet many clearly contain traditional elements. Kevin Volans, in a similar position with regards to his African-influenced piece "Hunting Gathering," wrote,

Robby Rothschild responded to this quote in firm disagreement, saying, "this operates on an assumption that it's possible for the origin of a piece to have nothing to do with the piece. I sense an underlying idea that abstraction is a Western concept, and that by taking only intellectual, abstract elements from another culture's music, one can bypass the need to acknowledge and credit that music." While Round Mountain would never deny their traditional sources, and readily acknowledge regions, traditions, as well as specific rhythms and folk melodies in their album notes, they disagree that their music is "all African" or "all Turkish," etc. They aim acknowledge sources while claiming authorship of their songs. To some, the existence of this middle ground may seem questionable. One who takes this skeptical standpoint, however, must contend with the alternate argument that authorship cannot be claimed over any music, due to the constantly flowing and unavoidable streams of influence.

There exists a certain paradox in Round Mountain’s relationship to roots, being that in order to celebrate others’ roots, or traditions, one must seemingly disregard the ability of one’s own roots to dictate the traditions one participates in. Robby explains,

While this ambiguity of roots applies to much of the world, and all of mixed heritage must know its multitude of effects on cultural identity, it seems particularly prevalent among white Americans. Ironically, our ancestors seem to have forfeited much of their own culture in brutally imposing it on others. Horrible histories (and presents) of white supremacy in all realms of American society, certainly including the arts, make it particularly taboo from some perspectives for white men to participate in other (and especially those perceived as "exotic") traditions.

This taboo raises many questions regarding cultural identity. Foremost among these with reference to Round Mountain is whether cultural identity actually functions as a trap for musicians. Most obviously, cultural identity can be perceived as trapping Char and Robby and countless others as categorically American, marking their use of other cultural elements as ethically dubious. Robby recounts a story, however, which well illustrates that members of any culture may be trapped into confining roles of projected identity through socio-cultural perceptions:

Robby was playing with a band consisting of American marimba players who devotedly followed blueprints of the African Shona tradition as they had learned them. The band had the opportunity to collaborate in a studio session with a renowned mbira player from Zimbabwe named Chartwell Dutiro. During the session, Dutiro was attempting to articulate where the beat fell under a complicated rhythmic part he had shown the musicians, and they were trying to create subtle, artistic parts to accompany it. Robby recalls that when he finally figured out where the beat was, he played a straight rock beat, by way of illustration, which he viewed as useful tool, due to its unambiguous rhythmic framework. The American musicians were aghast that Robby would even consider playing a rock beat with the famous Dutiro in the room. Dutiro, however, surprised Robby by beaming at him and saying, "Yes, that’s what I want you to play." Robby says of this experience, "Somehow I knew that he was the one in that moment impaired as much as I was by cultural identity."

While cultural identity may hold powerful, even essential elements of an individual’s experience and sense of self, in today’s world it seems to be so inevitably complicated that others’ and even one’s own perception of it is often an oversimplification or misconception. As cultural identity applies to Round Mountain, it is clearly incorrect to say that the Rothschilds identify with the cultures from which they draw. Rather, their experiences of synthesis and playing the music of so many different cultures and sensing the threads that run between them have led them to a place from which culture has a broader meaning and function to connent and validate human experiences than delineated cultural identity.

As musicians playing and composing music with elements from various traditions, the Rothschild brothers have not often encountered criticism for cultural trespassing. Robby recounts that, "Sometimes, in African drum classes, or [when] playing cajón… people have given me "vibe" for taking part in a tradition that evidently comprises a large part of their identities and their egos, and which they didn't seem to want to share. Usually these people are not the teachers in the situation, but the students." While Robby feels guilt about the abuses which black people have suffered at the hands of whites, and generally reacts submissively and with humility to these attitudes, he considers such situations cultural identity traps, and tends to "fume" about them privately. "[In this case, cultural identity] stands between people, creates a false sense of vacuum around the musical tradition which ultimately tends to sterilize and suffocate it, and just basically promotes smallness and fear in a musical environment." Despite the justice of these observations, and although critical attitudes have never prevented Robby from participating musically, the white American cultural identity trap asserts itself again in his afterthought, "After all, maybe they're right."

On the other end of the spectrum, however, lie intrigued, diverse listeners, awed by the band’s musical creativity, instrumental prowess, and touched by their humble approachability. Cross-cultural synthesis is quite literally present at the band’s live gigs as Char plays trumpet and accordion simultaneously, then rapidly switches to gaida or banjo. Meanwhile, Robby plucks elegant melodies on the kora or bouzouki or plays resounding rhythms on the djembe or cajón. The band’s live performances tend to include more traditional music than the content of the album suggests. One of Round Mountain’s happiest moments of validation came in the form of praise from Andy Irvine. Irvine is an Irish singer and bouzouki player, "a rebel and traditionalist all at once," and one of Round Mountains primary inspirations. Irvine is a pioneer in cultural synthesis, being the first to mix Balkan meters into Irish songs, after traveling to Romania in the 1960’s. His innovative combinations became a pivotal trend in Irish music. Round Mountain hosted and opened for Irvine’s performance in Santa Fe in the summer of 2002. Apparently unperturbed by Round Mountain’s use of his own musical culture, Irvine told the brothers that they were "really on to something."

If one assesses Round Mountain’s attempt at synthesis and finds it successful, a new question arises as to the direction that synthesis of cultural traditions and modern innovations may take music. David Toop extrapolated that, "music in the future will almost certainly hybridize hybrids to such an extent that the idea of a traceable source will become an anachronism." Robby Rothschild views Toop’s assessment as being fairly grim, but also offers the distinction, "hybridization itself would not seem to reduce variety." The implication appears to be that hybridization is still a process which produces a unique result, no matter how many times or with which "raw" elements the process is utilized. In Round Mountain’s view, the true enemy of musical diversity is "the breed of homogenization that a money-driven music culture promotes." As a commercial product, Round Mountain’s self-released album is extremely small scale and they are not ashamed to profit from it in order to help support their families. If the music ever becomes commercially successful, the band intends to create a method of acknowledgement and promotion of their sources, possibly on a model similar to Peter Gabriel’s RealWorld music. Meanwhile, the band feels instinctively that they are working against the commercial exploitation of traditional music and undermining homogenization by standing at "enough of a skew from the mainstream that [their] music raises awareness of other cultures while not claiming to have mastered them."

Round Mountain’s take on synthesis also places a particular emphasis on dispelling the "obsession with technical virtuosity" in contemporary music that holds precedence over the sprit of the music and the performers. The Rothschilds’ prominent field recording influences from people like Alan Lomax and Seamus Innis have imbued their performances with a nostalgic sense of a time when "music didn't have to be wizardry onstage, but filled a more intimate, humble, and ultimately direct social role." This unassuming sensibility that is also fully aware of the spiritual significance of musical performance mixed with an undeniable quantity of talent and dedication combine to form Round Mountain’s quirky performance persona, which seems inherently to cut against the grain of the narrowing trends of musical categorization and demographics present in today’s music industry.

Robby finds that the most effective method for creating synthesized music that does not exoticize traditional elements by isolating them is to listen to enough music from that tradition that he forgets it comes from a specific place and begins to experience it as "natural, undifferentiated expression." This process develops an "emotional chemistry" with the music that seems to run on a fundamental plane of shared human experience, past politics of cultural identity, geographical separation and stylistic foreignness. In other words, he forges the kind of connection that Stephen Drury described when he said,

It is clear that Round Mountain’s intention is not to erase differences of tradition or cultural identity, but rather to celebrate the cultural multitude and each tradition’s profound power to transcend those divisions that may appear to separate our identities. Ultimately, there is an indication of the superficiality of the elements that make up our identities, whether cultural or otherwise, and which we cling to. These elements can be beautiful, enriching, ambiguous or absurd, but ultimately they cannot contain us as human beings, they are not who we are. We are not our age, nationality, culture, ethnicity, creed, location, status, or salary. Indeed this list may grow and never be long enough; we are not our minds or bodies or abilities, etc. But if we are all struggling to discover little windows into who we truly are, music seems a common medium for such an inquiry, and one perfectly suited to the one that Round Mountain continues to make.

Perhaps Round Mountain’s perspective on the politics, role, and greater meaning of their music is best expressed by the map that appears in their album artwork. Among the topography lines that circle around the formation labeled Round Mountain are the names of the places which are direct ingredients of the music. Dogon Country, St. Remy de Provence, Kameido Shrine, Vallecitos, American Basin, Lennox Head, and many others all appear on the same local map, despite the extreme geographical distances that lie between them. As Robby described, "Maybe there is a plane on which these apparently distant places become close, like an angle from which the stars of a constellation can be seen to belong to the unifying shape. Maybe that plane is music."

Bibliography

Geitner, Paul. "African Pygmy sounds go Europop in ‘Deep Forest.’" Deep in the

Jungle. 29 April 2005.

Robby Rothschild. Interview conducted by author through email. April 15-21, 2005.

Toop, David. Ocean of Sound. London: Serpent’s Tail, 1995.

Zorn, John, ed. Arcana: Musicians on Music. New York: Granary Books, 2000.