In music taste, tables turn
By Richard Nieva
Peter Lo sits in the production studio of KSCU in the basement of Swig Hall. The red light atop the eleven-story high-rise blinks in perfect time, like a metronome, as if it were an indicator for someone who'd just pressed a giant record button.
Inside, the red light on my digital recorder blinks similarly as I interview Lo. He rummages around with the sound and recording equipment, turning it on.
Lo is the production director at KSCU, the university's student-run radio station. He describes the role as being in charge of "anything that involves digital manipulation of sounds," including any "This is KSCU" promos you might hear between songs on the radio station.
But Lo's true love at the radio station is creating mash-ups -- taking elements from two or more existing songs and creating a new piece out of them. He plays his mash-ups during his Monday on-air time slot.
Lo is part of a new wave of musicians and music makers, the kind that didn't exist a hundred years ago. These artists mesh together music and technology, but produce the same result that has been around for thousands of years -- creativity.
This largely unexplored hub is redefining the notion of success in musicianship -- even redefining the idea of musicianship itself. It is a positive redefinition, broadening it, making it more relevant to the masses.
While there may be the classical purists who contend the doors are being opened too wide, there is a more egalitarian message at work: Music is for all to enjoy.
The room looks exactly how you would think a college radio station should look: obscure stickers on the windows, recording equipment, boom microphone stands and a wall of vinyl.
"My gateway, my entry drug, was hearing my friend make some mixes," Lo says, setting up his MacBook and opening a program. He is garbed in a KSCU t-shirt.
On the screen of his computer, there is a program open with a list of songs on one side of the screen and another list on the other side. The program, called Traktor, essentially acts as two turntables and a speaker. He sets his computer beside two actual turntables and speakers.
"It's really fun feeling the music, having that tactile sensation," he says when I ask him about the turntables. He lifts the needle up and moves it to certain points on the record. "But unfortunately, I'm more accurate using hot keys."
He clicks around and displays the program. Using hot keys is the process of assigning different sounds in a song to different keys on a computer keyboard.
He demonstrates using Daft Punk's "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger," a popular gateway to electronica thanks to Kanye West's prominent sample of it in his 2007 hit "Stronger" -- to the chagrin of some purist Daft Punk fans. He layers the song over a jazz beat that quotes Louis Prima's 1936 swing hit "Sing, Sing, Sing (With a Swing)."
"Fa-fa-fa-faster," the Daft Punk talk box robot voice sings over the brass section as Lo repeatedly hits a key on his computer.
There is a Benny Goodman record in the Big Band section of the vinyl shelf. I imagine Goodman looking confused.
Part of Lo's job description as production director is teaching others how to make mash-ups and use software so they can make their own, a luxury he didn't have while he was starting out.
"I really wish I did have someone to help me out when I was first learning, because it would have increased the process so much," he said. He says the word "so" like there should be a few more o's after it.
"I mean, that's why I'm a production director now, because I want to be that resource for people who really want to get into this sort of stuff," he explains.
Fifteen minutes into our interview, the batteries in my recorder die. So much for technology, I say to myself.
Lo offers to record the rest of the interview using the recording equipment we conveniently have in front of us.
He plays some of his original mash-ups. "What I specialize in is actually taking American beats and using Asian pop music with it," he says.
He plays a mash-up of the Pussycat Dolls and Japanese pop singer Kumi Koda.
"More than anything it involves a lot of listening," he explains. "What would go well with this song? What would make this song sound even better?"
He describes the structures and format of songs, stressing the importance of being able to recognize all of the individual parts of songs, like intros and outros.
"There will be a break in the song. This is just an empty gap. Maybe the mid to high ranges are just really empty, so I'll try putting something in there," he says. "And most of the time, most of the time, whenever I do try putting something in there, it sounds like absolute crap."
He goes into the tediousness of beat matching -- making sure the beats of two songs are aligned. He mentions the helpfulness of knowing basic musical properties like rhythm and pitch. He plays me what he considers to be his best mix -- a mash-up of nineteen songs. "It's always fun to see how many songs you can fit in there," he says. "But I don't think you'd really get it unless you listened to Korean music."
Lo explains his relatively new affinity for Asian music, having only really discovered it this fall. This prompts me to inquire about his ethnic background.
"No, I don't mind you asking. I'm hapa," he says. "I'm half Chinese, and then mostly Polish. But half Chinese for the most part." As he says this, his mash-up plays faintly in the background, Asian lyrics sung over an American dance beat.
Across campus, Teresa McCollough sits in her office in the Music and Dance Building. Outside her door, music also plays faintly in the background.
Horns, multiple pianos and strings all emit sound waves into the atmosphere, coming from the numerous practice rooms that line the second-floor hallway. Lingering "tas" and "ta-ki-ti-kis" come from students reciting rhythm exercises. It's midterms week in the music building.
McCollough wears all black, a sharp contrast from her very short blonde hair. She is a professor in the music department, teaching music theory and music history. Her bright office walls are sprinkled with posters. Among them are a few posters from her own shows. McCollough is also an internationally-renowned pianist, specializing in new music by living composers.
She studied at the Conservatory of Music at Oberlin College in Ohio before getting her masters and doctorate at the Eastman School of Music in Rochester, N.Y.
She gives me her own definition of musicianship without skipping a beat.
"It's familiarity with the tonal concepts of music. Ability to read music, hear music, play music and understand basic theoretical concepts -- key, rhythm, melody, harmony, pitch."
McCollough talks about new digital media and software programs. She even comments on popular video games like Rock Band and Guitar Hero.
"I think those programs are really interesting, but I think they're flawed," she says. "I think it allows people to have sort of a direct experience. The problem that I see is you can learn by imitating, but you'd have no idea what you're doing."
Sam Duarte, one of KSCU's assistant music directors, also sees the drawbacks of these software and music-making programs, but praises the accessibility it creates.
"Pure talent is pretty much a dying thing right now, which is very sad," she says. "But it also makes way for people who don't have the fingers for piano to be able to make really great music."
Lo agrees with this assessment.
"Doing this type of electronic production, I honestly don't think requires a whole lot of music theory. It would definitely help though," he says. "Beyond a doubt."And this is knowledge Lo has, having played guitar in junior high before moving to upright bass in jazz band during high school.
iTunes also reflects these trends in popular music, as the current top-two songs don't feature traditional instruments. The number one song is "Boom Boom Pow" by the Black Eyed Peas.
The No. 2 most-downloaded song across all charts is Lady GaGa's "Poker Face," a dance cut with layered synth lines and heavy bass beats. Lady GaGa's Web site describes her latest album, "The Fame," as a mix of dance-pop, electro-pop, rock, disco and burlesque.
She also holds the top and second place spot for video downloads for "Just Dance" and the aforementioned "Poker Face."
Kanye West has even delved into the world of French dance beats.
He and other juggernaut hip-hop artists T-Pain and Lil' Wayne have also indulged in another highly-polarizing electronic software product called Auto-Tune, which automatically corrects the pitch of off-key vocals, resulting in a robotic sound.
This shifting change in tastes is also apparent in the microcosm that is our campus.
"I think that especially here at Santa Clara, the interest lies in more top-40 mainline kind of sound," said Activities Programming Board Director Courtney Jordan. "But within that top-40 space, it's definitely gotten a lot more varied."
In a survey conducted by APB in the fall, dance electric group MGMT came in third out of five in a list of acts students would most like to see perform at Santa Clara, according to Jordan.
APB even brought back alum and San Francisco DJ Eli Glad to play at The Bronco last Saturday -- a show that attracted about 150 to 200 people throughout the night, said Jordan. According to his Facebook group, he specializes in "electro, ghetto house, dance anthems and party jamz in general."
"The trend is toward mash-ups and blending, music that's more unclassifiable," said Jordan.
This went into APB's decision to book Girl Talk as the support for Bone Thugs 'N Harmony last winter. The concert sold out the Leavey Center floor, moving over 1,500 tickets.
What concerns McCollough is the fear that people no longer know what they are creating musically.
"Students who come to these music theory classes come because they would like to know what they are doing," she says.
She summarizes what seems to be every young wannabe rock star's first few year's with his or her instrument.
"They're already in a band. They're writing for the band or arranging and they don't really know what they are doing. But they can sit and fool around at their piano or guitar until it sounds right," she says.
Still, McCollough remains hopeful for the future of music.
"I think it's inevitable. Every generation has to go with the changes, and sometimes those have positive effects and negative effects," she says. "I'm a person who's open to change, so I choose to view it optimistically."
She still appreciates the nuances of electronic music, even mentioning that she has prepared a piece for piano and electronics at her next concert. "I love the sound world. I've even been to a laptop orchestra. I would be bored though if I just listened to electronic music."
Duarte feels the same way, repeating a joke she heard from a friend: "Going to an electronic show is like watching some guy check his e-mail."
But as easy as it is to watch a performance from the comfort of your computer desk or make beats by pushing buttons, McCollough expresses the importance of live performance.
"Interaction between audience and performer is essential to recreating the art. I hate to see that die," says McCollough. "But I don't think it has to die just because digital music is evolving."
Back at the KSCU studio in Swig, Duarte talks about her job at the station, and her role in its evolutionary history. She listens to about 25 to 30 albums a week that are sent to the station by promotional agencies, weeding out the weak ones -- a sort of musical Darwinism.
She tells me her own personal mission statement at the station: "My biggest priority as a music director is to get something out there that no one has ever heard of."
And she is up to that challenge. "It's hard to introduce something new to a person. You have to do it in small quantities," she says. "You might most likely like it, but because you're being bombarded with so many new things, it's harder to really grasp."
After the interview, I leave with the free KSCU tote bag she's given me. I walk up to the lobby of Swig, noticing how much it's changed since I called it home during my freshman year.
You can't help but wonder if someone will drunkenly yell out "Wake up, Swig!" in the middle of the night. But with college radio in its basement, at its foundation, you get the feeling that maybe it's already waking up.
And the red light atop the building continues to blink and blink.
Contact Richard Nieva at (408) 554-4546 or rnieva@scu.edu.