Concentration

Quick thoughts:

I’m with @sns and believe that sound/music are not separable. 
@rvpiano — do you taste an apple without the texture? I think this is an apt analogy, so if you agree that those things go together, you’ll back off of the (false) between "sound" OR "music."

As Brian Eno discovered -- and most others here are mentioning -- the notion that the "best" experience aligns with one kind of attention is a bit hard to accept. It’s like asking, "What the *best* kind of conversation -- a heart to heart about deep topics or a fun, shooting the bull conversation with banter, humor, etc.?" It’s another false choice.

If you’re asking, "Is it a better experience to not be distracted when you’re trying to concentrate?" then the answer is "Obviously, yes." But that’s too easy a question, isn’t it?

Possibly of interest:

https://news.emory.edu/stories/2019/01/er_eno_book/campus.html

"Lysaker is led to consider the different kinds of listening that “Music for Airports” requires.

Even casual music fans would be familiar with background listening, the sonic accompaniment to other activities, and with performance listening, the focus required at a concert.

Lysaker argues Eno’s willingness to use catchy musical phrases in the absence of clear rhythmic structures keeps “Music for Airports” from existing only in the background, while the lack of narrative development keeps it from serving as a showpiece.

That leaves avant-garde listening, for sounds outside of traditional configurations of melodies and scales — for sounds such as reverb — and reverie listening, in which the music initiates open-ended reflection.

Eno’s album provokes each kind of listening. Although no one can listen in all four ways at once, Eno’s deliberate engagement with each of the four creates that hazy and calm new space. 

But it also demands more than what German philosopher Theodor Adorno calls regressive listening, what we now think of as those who believe they are fully engaging with music only because it confers some kind of prestige.

“The way we often theorize listening sounds passive,” Lysaker says. “I think Eno is showing that listening is active.” 

While it is true we listen to music and sound at the same time, it’s the priority that we give to each that’s the issue. 

@rvpiano  Thanks for the reply to my comment. Your word "priority" is one I associate with making a judgment after doing an analysis. I think of "making a judgment" as a different activity than "listening to music & sound" for enjoyment purposes.

I’m sorry my analogy of "flavor" and "texture" doesn’t work for you. For me, musical content and sonic texture are entangled in that way. (Consider why people love YoYo Ma; it's not just his way of playing music, but his touch and tone; those seem like sonic elements to me.) Only if I am analyzing for some other purpose (adjusting the system) are they pulled apart to determine "priority."

If one of them does become more salient, it is in the kind of experience sns describes, with one becoming more prominent than the other but neither disappearing or becoming irrelevant.

In many of your posts, I notice you return to a struggle you have to keep your analytical side in check. That’s a valuable initiative, but I don’t think it reveals a reality about listening for everyone.

@hilde45 

what do you think of my observation of the difference between classical music listening and other types of music regarding this dichotomy?

I assume you mean this:

As I’ve said, those who listen to classical music generally have to concentrate a little more on to what is going on in the music.  I believe that rock, pop and the like is detected more viscerally and instinctively than classical.
People feel the music rather than think about it.  Of course classical music lovers also feel the music, but there is an added element to their listening.

It’s a hard question. Classical compositions appeal at multiple levels -- they have to, because composers at that time were, in large part, composing music for the public. They had to make a visceral connection. That’s why even the non-classical listener knows the tunes to many compositions.

If you’re talking about contemporary classical (e.g., say, Morton Feldman) there is often a lot of texture and experiments with sound textures in their work; one might even argue that this type of classical is even more reliant on listen to the sound aspect as much as the music -- or even pushing the listener *not* to radically separate them.

I don’t think the types of music are as revealing as trying to typify different kinds of listening. This is what I mentioned below (regarding background listening, performance listening, reverie listening, and regressive listening).

Let's think about each type of listening for a moment. I guess that the type of listening you're thinking about for classical is some kind of combination of "performance" and "reverie" listening.

Background Listening: Sound serves as an accompaniment to other activities. Think of music playing in a coffee shop, while you're working, etc. But even background listening subtly shapes our experience and mood.

* Performance Listening: This involves a focused and intentional engagement with a musical performance, e.g., at a concert, with the music as central. The listener is actively trying to follow the structure, melodies, harmonies, and overall development of the piece, often with an awareness of the musicians' skill and interpretation.

* Reverie Listening: Music such as ambient music encourages a state of "reverie listening," a more open-ended and reflective engagement. The music spurs internal thought, imagination, and contemplation. One isn't necessarily dissecting the music analytically, but allowing it to initiate a flow of associations, memories, or reflections. Music creates a space for introspection without demanding rigid, focused attention.

Regressive Listening: This describes listening that is not truly engaging with the music itself but rather with its social function or the prestige it confers. It's driven by external factors— to be seen as cultured, fit in with a certain group, etc. It's a pseudo-engagement where the listener is concerned about what the music does for them socially, rather than its intrinsic artistic qualities. 

What @sns has been saying -- and which Lysaker says in his book -- is that "sound" vs. "musical content" doesn't admit of a clean divide. In other words, they are not mutually exclusive. One can (and often does) shift between attending to acoustic details and semantic content. 

Lysaker offers the concept of "prismatic listening," which suggests a way of engaging that continually shifts attention between both the "sound" and the "music" (or broader conceptual meanings). This way of listening recognizes that no single approach can fully grasp a work -- there is an interplay between raw sonic experience and the ways we construct meaning from it.