When I listen back to an old live code performance that sounds too good to be anything I could have done, new ideas popping up through it and working out perfectly.. But there’s wave of sadness – it’s impossible that I could do anything like it again. Also a kind of loneliness, music that’s perfect for me down my cul-de-sac of obsession, but not for anyone else? Well, maybe the other people in the room at the time were feeling it too..
This could be a fundamental disconnect between music makers and music listeners though. Music makers have the power to make music that is perfect for them, exactly the music they want to hear.. But the results might well sound rubbish for everyone else if they haven’t shared your journey. There is skill in bridging this gap as much as possible, trying to let people into your world, not being self-indulgent, while also not compromising to much on your obsessions..
I usually see the reverse: artists not releasing new music, because they want to perfect it for the consumer.
I guess live coding gets around this, because the creation is the release.
I wouldn’t worry about the audience, either you find your audience or you don’t. Adapting your art to make other people happy can only be depressing.
I wonder how much the idea of classes of music makers and an audience of consumers is an expectation from economic concerns? Is the idea of music as originally and fundamentally a collaborative experience just romantic?
If not then a performance should be more an invitation to join in…