#nr8.2

The Internet has it that Giancarlo Toniutti’s music compositions, especially the first ones, might be a link between Tangerine Dream and Whitehouse / Nurse with Wound. The truth is, he doesn’t give a flying fuck about categories perched on a chronological and fetishised timeline (music genres, currents, western canons etc) or representation of reality. He has always seen himself as a marginal figure, never interested in dealing with what we are coerced to perceive as reality. The only word that can encompass his practice is SOURCE. He has a penchant for cosmogonies, the clash of forms and morphology. A tautological statement at first glance; however, it encompasses three of his main interests: anthropology, sonic reality and word formation (a branch of linguistics).

There is a great deal of theory the listener has to go through in order to grasp Toniutti’s sonic realities. His releases are always accompanied by long explanatory texts, diagrams and images. This might be problematic in the sense that his compositions might not stand and speak by themselves in terms of the chosen medium. But this is not just a quirk. In order to understand a form, one must try to understand how different lines of force pull it together. Research/documentation is central to his practice. No romanticist fancies are allowed in this functional endeavor. Therefore, his sound pieces should be heard as “translations” of different anthropological and linguistic perspectives.

Since the early 80’s his practice has been developed through different methods. One is his 1985 “La Mutazione” (unearthed in 2015 by Oren Ambarchi’s Black Truffle) wherein different coherent sound surfaces overlap. Here the use of electronic devices is evident since it coincides with his electro acoustic apprenticeship. “Epigenesi” represents a switch from electronics as sound source to analogue devices. This results in “layers formed with the contribution of many diverse sub-layers, so that their interaction with the other layers is more of a densifying type, creating specific niches etc. The final form, thus, is originated through the “conflicts” between the continuity points within layers and such “conflicts” mainly depend on the sonic “environment” generated by these process trajectories.”* Collaborating with other musicians could also be seen as method, and here is worth mentioning “Tahta Tarla” with Andrew Chalk and” (source) KO/USK” with Sigmar Fricke. His sonic realities bare no images, as sound is vibration and therefore abstract. The use of field recording is strictly functional. Toniutti is not emotionally attached to this tool, nor to what is being recorded. This attempted divorce from representation, and therefore his ego, wants to open the gates of objectivity. Where does sound come from and what kind of syntaxes space can generate? The arbitrary element is at the core of these enquiries.

There is no one way to introduce Spencer Clark. More like, there are multiple introductions to be made, all into the different auras that he’s created over the years.  With the Skaters, he assumed half of a gurgling persona, swallowed by the crackling echoes and screeches of two encephalic hemispheres colliding and bouncing off of each other in a holy feedback dance. Alone: initiatory rites and ceremonial intonations rattle off with Vodka Soap; warped melodies construct a funnel of escapist symbolism and spiritual freedom through Monopoly Star Child Searchers; and, most recently, the dream world of Typhonian Highlife brings forth the arcane, the uncanny, and the archetypal through the lost sounds of distant memory.  

But Spencer Clark is really a total dude - yes, in the Lebowskian sense. You see him ambling towards you, wearing that Inspector Gadget trench coat and his signature snarl, and will most likely be greeted by a wave of goodwill, perhaps with “Hey G, how’s it vibin’?” or something along those lines. Something evocative of the surfer movies and 80s TV you saw but never lived. Which is why it seemed fitting to ask about this strain that someone who’s never been to California and never fully experienced that sorta kowabunga state of mind could attribute as being embedded in his DNA. Might explain the slang, the cartoon faces, the video game appreciation. Might not. But visions of Pinhead and the recent summoning of Darth Maul as a swaying female apparition show that there are projections at work. Indeed, the World of Shells Video Club has a place in the world today…

Spencer Clark: In the 80s and early 90s video stores were so packed out of renters that small visionary directors began to have bigger budgets to Imagine greater heights… I am not interested in the slashing and the murder so much, as an Imagineer’s gift of willing visions to happen!  Just like Disneyland, the Typhonian Highlife record presentation was meant to physically present the imagination of the landscape of the record!  One time only. Here are three movies that helped me make this record!

Alien Nation Dark Horizon

After the original Alien Nation movie, they made a TV SERIES. Then it got canned, so the director decide to then make 5 MADE FOR TV MOVIES. What dedication.  The aliens are called newcomers! The newcomers embrace this sort of junk-new age style.  They are into really elaborate new age world music dress, and play pretty sick new ambient fusion music.  The director went full on for the set design and the aesthetic, filling in all possibilities.

The Reptilian Agenda with Credo Mutwa

Credo Mutwa is one of the true influences for “THE WORLD OF SHELLS” . He was an Artist in Afrika who created sculptures and paintings based on secret myths of pre-history alien being, called THE CHITAHOORI… In this video he is interviewed by David Icke, who is a drone.  But Icke doesn’t talk much.  All you get is six hours of very fantastic story telling.  I am not concerned about whether his theories and stories are true, because the theories obviously do have a creative effect, and his work and language and style are what makes one, an “Imagineer”...

Arcade

In an article for Dawn.com Pakistani author Uzma Aslam Khan asks herself where the women tabla players are.Well, here’s one: Sanskriti Shrestha. She plays in the ensembles Avatar and Moksha as well as performing solo. Growing up in Nepal, she took her tabla and the traditionial music she was raised on and ventured out for the North.

What convinced you to play music professionally?

The combination of my love for what I do and the opportunities I got, are what naturally took me into the direction of making music my profession.

Was it immediately clear that you would focus on the tabla as an instrument?

When I started playing Tabla I was very little and it was more of a toy for me. I was sent to dance and Vocal classes but the way I bonded with the sound of the Tablas and the way I could communicate with the language of Tablas, was different than any other musical direction I tried to go into. So yes, I would say it was pretty clear that Tabla was the instrument I would focus on.

You moved from Nepal to Norway to study music. Which program did you choose and why Norway?

I had always wanted to go out of my country to study for discovering the different styles or the scene of music. Of course the tradition I come from is very rich and the process of learning never ends but my heart always said there is more! It started with the interest of learning different kinds of percussion traditions. Norway was the first country overseas I travelled for performing. It was a talent project in Forde folk music festival. I was 17 years old and very curious and keen to play with everyone. I got to get in touch with many good musicians and also travelled here the year later for a tour with the Local musicians. In that way, it was very natural for me to move to Norway since I already had some projects starting before I moved here. I got enrolled in a program called “Free candidate study program” where you basically build your own syllabus working together with the teachers. It is made for the applicants who are good but there Idea’s or the work doesn’t fit into any of the study programs that the school can offer. I am very happy that I could be under that program and the academy had such an open platform.

During your studies, were your peers interested in Nepalese traditional music?

Yes, they were interested in both Nepalese and the Hindustani traditional music. One of the reasons many people I have collaborated with chose to have me because they are also interested on the musical background I come from. I have also worked with different folk musicians where I mostly try to bring a lot of materials from the Nepalese folk tradition too.

Should western and non-western music still be treated differently in music education?

Is it time to get rid of the divide?I personally think the line between the western and non-western music has been fading out gradually since a couple of centuries. That includes the education too. People are very much open to all sorts of music and especially in times like now where we have access to reach to anything we like, the division is disappearing itself.

There shouldn’t be any boundary between any kind of genres but yet keeping its own identity is also important for deepening the learning process of any kind of music tradition. Richer the tradition is the more we can broaden up the way we bring it together. When it comes education, I don’t necessarily think we have to get rid of the division between categories but it’s definitely essential to have the programs where people can get deepened knowledge about the genres they want to explore which also helps in new creations.

In this, I would like to add that I have felt the division when it comes to the platform.  Some venues want to have certain kind of music. Here, I am not talking about the fusion music we know about.   Sometimes for a musician like myself who likes to bring in different inspirations together and create something new, a new sound, it can become little difficult to get the platform to perform it. It is not always very easy to categorize everything specifically and that becomes a challenge, I think.

What is your personal relationship with traditional Nepalese music?

I was born in Nepal, and the traditional music in Nepal is not there just for performing or expertise but is very much included in our daily life. It is as rich as the culture itself. Therefore, it is in my blood and I connect to it very easily and naturally. I also sometimes perform Nepalese classical or folk dance which is like meditation for me. It brings a different personality to me. In this last few years, I have been aware of the fact how the music from my own ethnic group is getting extinct and I really feel that I have a responsibility to protect it and bring it more forward in different musical context.

Should we guard and protect traditional music, make sure it’s written down and recorded for future generations?

Yes, Definitely! We have always learned from the old and that’s how we have been able come up with many interesting idea’s and creations. I feel that I am able to do what I am doing now and adapt to all other kinds of music because I have a strong bond my the traditional music or the tradition I have followed. My own tradition has always been a major inspiration for me in my work.

The link between all the artists booked for the Eastern Daze festival is that they reach a state of trance with their music through repetition.

I agree with that very much. I love the process of repetition. One thing I have experienced is that the repetition gives you time to really get into tones and rhythms and feel it. It’s like you let the vibration from the instrument do it works. In this process, I usually feel that I become so small and the sound just covers everything around me. It also puts a huge impact on the changes you bring after each repetition, which makes both musician and the audience feel what is going on.

How important is that state of trance for you? Does it give you energy?

Yes, it is important for me! Whenever I have had a chance to take my time, have repetitions and feel it, I am more myself and I become one with the music. Like they say in Sami vocal tradition “Joiking”, one doesn’t Joik about someone but one Joiks someone or something. In the same way, I feel what I play is the transformation of myself than I am playing something. Everything in nature and around us has its cycle and it repeats. It applies to music too and it definitely gives me a lot of energy during the performance or while I am practicing. Especially I do that very much when I practice

What’s the biggest difference between Asian and European music scenes?

I can’t talk about Asia in general but I feel that the European music scene is very open to innovations whereas in some parts of Asia we like to keep the tradition. Going far away from that is something not everyone can digest. You might sometimes be mistaken for it and people might think you do what you do because you are not skilled enough to carry on the tradition.

Tell me something about your sextet Avatar.

Avatar is a band that I put together a year ago. It is an outcome of all the new influences and forms of music I have encountered these last years. Especially the creative thinking, openness, free style of playing, spontaneity is something that I experienced a lot in the music scene here in Europe which I just love. At the same time, I can’t stop getting fascinated by all sorts of old traditional music I have come across. From the Tibetan prayers to the noise music, all of it is so powerful and gives so much that you have to somehow express it out in some way. So as a musician processing it out through my own compositions was the best way and that’s where Avatar comes in the picture.Most of the players are mostly occupied with jazz and improvised music. Some of them are also very much into folk music. I think the band gets different elements from the each member while sharing the same direction of creativity, which has given it a very distinctive sound.

What do you like most about improvisation?

Freedom!  

When does improvisation go wrong?

For me, it is when I don’t feel like I can contribute to something that’s happening and that doesn’t mean not playing!

What’s in the future for you?

Modern Ishumar tuareg music is not just a male affair anymore, let it be heard. We now slowly see female artists stepping out of the shadows, bringing with them the tradition of female chants set in an acoustic sound. Fatou Seidi Ghali & Alamnou Akrouni are two young women from Niger who call themselves Les Filles De Illighadad, named after the village where they come from. Illighadad is a small village in the central heart of the Niger Sahel, a clutter of mudhouses without electricity or wi-fi access. It’s a world apart from Agadez, from Niamey – both major cities in their own right, dense with people, noise, and the trappings of modernity. During the rain season, the desert is vibrant and green, after the rains have parched the otherwise thirsty landscape. The desert here is cyclical, and follows a predictable schedule. The days in Illighadad are long, and time is not measured by hours, meetings, or not even by the muezzins prayer call –but by the suns passage, the movement of the animals, and the sound of the crickets. Music here comes with the rural character of the seasons and the extremes of weather are not easy on musical instruments, which often appear in a dried, bended and worn state.

Fatou Seidi Ghali plays an old blue guitar that has been tormented by these conditions. As one of the very rare Tuareg female guitar players, her playing style is measured and calm, and speaks to a different pace. Before recording the session that would become the album, Christopher Kirkley of Sahel Sounds saw Fatou playing a long session. It moved seamlessly from one song to another, with many covers of Tuareg group Etran Finatawa whose music is renowned in this part of Niger and the main inspiration for her to pick up the guitar. She insisted that she doesn’t just play guitar, but plays and performs tende as well with her cousin Alamnou Akrouni, a renowned vocalist. The “tende” is named for the drum, stretched with an animal skin and is joined with polyphonic chants. In a place with the absence of sound, no hum of electricity, no cars, no white noise, and no physical impediments, the tende travels far. As the village plays, people get drawn in from around. Singers exchange the lead, backed by the chorus of Illighadad echoing in polyphonic harmonies, with staccato clapping, led by a deep and continuous thumping that goes on for hours.

The friendly Ernesto is born a collector. In his house, that is currently situated in a typical Brussels suburbia neighbourhood, are artworks on every wall, a well organised record collection and videocassette-filled shelves. There is coffee for the guests and sweet pretzels on the table, Ernesto prefers ginger tea.

In 2003 he arrived in our humble Belgium, all the way from Venezuela. And even though he always played music, his experimental chapter started on Belgian territory. His first band was at the age of twelve with his sister (who is also part of The Avant-Gardian’s editorial team) and best friend. Trying to make the same kind of music as Tool, they didn’t like their sound that was similar. Gonzalez says he always felt more attracted to the more fucked up side of popular music. Giving an example of Nirvana’s ‘Radio Friendly Unit Shifter’and peeping guitars.

At the age of 17 he made a couple of CDR’s he put out through his own record label, Eat The Sun, and a tape on the Canadian Knife In The Toaster. Since then his discography expanded to more than 20 releases. His latest album, Hacia La Luz, is out since august through No ‘Label’ (Rush Hour). He created it in the home of many underground affiniodos, Les Ateliers Claus, between the 13th and 26th of april 2015.

Composed out of repititive forms and layers and layers of ancestral synth, hand drums and shakers, Gonzales created a mind expanding soundscape that lifts us off into a cosmic space and spins us in a Tangerine dream. He says he always liked making trippy music, sometimes it can be poppier (the 2012 album El Telonero), other times abstract, like Hacia La Luz. His music is mostly a mixture of styles, something I see back in his home decoration.Improvising is Gonzalez first attempt to make a Bear Bones track. You can compare it as making a collage, but with layers of sound. Sometimes it starts with a melody in his head whereafter he makes the rest of the song up. He records a synth or a bass so he can come back to it later. The result is that most of the time his albums are an mix of old and new songs. And this probably explains him having the habit of doing different things at the same time. But with Hacia La Luz his work progress was a bit different. He created it at his recidency in Les Ateliers Claus in two weeks time. Mostly all the sounds he produces go first through an amp, then through a mic and then onto tape. Which is a slower process than recording on the computer. But the result is far more authentic that gives his sound a warm layer.

Let me tell you something about the millennium old game of chess. Some people find chess incredibly dull, others are addicted to it. The game fights a war between two minds, equipped with the same weapons, and the same limited amount of moves. It’s a war ruled by restrictions, and it is incredible poetic; or, depending on which side you’re on, it’s a game for nerds, boring, slow and abstract. No matter which angle you look into it, although it’s an extremely dry game, it earned its place in the history of mankind. It even provoked a complete mythology, as it was a huge shock for mankind when a chess champion got beaten a computer. Not to speak about books like The Chess Novel, by Stephan Zweig, or the records by Wu-Tang Clan.

Some people feel the same about the record E2-E4 by Manuel Göttsching, recorded in 1981, but released in 1984 — in some ways a pivotal year. I was talking to Spencer Clark and he finds the record incredibly dull, and values Ashra’s output way more than this piece. But other people think it’s one of the best records ever made. This record, not unlike the game of chess, earned its place in musical history, being considered as the first house or techno record. (A side remark: Göttsching admitted that he not really likes dance music.)

The record is loosely inspired by chess. But, it has more resemblances to chess than the cover and the title. Let’s start with the title: “E2-E4” is an opening move in chess, it’s called the King’s Pawn Game. Wikipedia says:

White opens with the most popular of the twenty possible opening moves. Although effective in winning for White (54.25%), it is not quite as successful as the four next most common openings for White: 1.d4 (55.95%), 1.Nf3 (55.8%), 1.c4 (56.3%), and 1.g3 (55.8%).[2]

Since nearly all openings beginning 1.e4 have names of their own, the term “King’s Pawn Game”, unlike Queen’s Pawn Game, is rarely used to describe the opening of the game. Advancing the king’s pawn two squares is highly useful because it occupies a center square, attacks the center square d5, and allows the development of White’s king’s bishop and queen. 

Chess legend Bobby Fischer said that the King’s Pawn Game is “Best by test”, and proclaimed that “With 1.e4! I win”.[3] King’s Pawn Games are further classified by whether Black responds with 1…e5 or not. Openings beginning with 1.e4 e5 are called Double King’s Pawn Games (or Openings), Symmetrical King’s Pawn Games (or Openings), or Open Games – these terms are equivalent. Openings where Black responds to 1.e4 with a move other than 1…e5 are called Asymmetrical King’s Pawn Games or Semi-Open Games.

The title of the record might be misleading. The code is just one of the 18 possible opening moves, and is not as defining as such. Depending on the players, each game goes its own path. If you think deeper about cause-consequences, each opening has its consequences for the rest of the game, and I think you can apply this to the E2-E4 piece too.

Chess is a rigid game, a closed circuit with very defined rules. Each piece has its own movement, weaknesses and strengths. The board has only 64 places and the goal is very simple: you have to conquer the other party’s king. Paradoxally, its very rigid set of rules and limitation creates a field in which endless possibilities appear. It’s a field in that enhances imagination, psychology and poetry. You start a game, and by intuition you move pieces. You can learn about the best opening moves, and how to respond to the other’s moves, and eventually threats and attacks, but you can never rationalize the game completely. A game develops by having unconscious preference for certain pieces and their moves. Some people even claim that you can be read through the moves you make on the board.

E2-E4 is like the game of chess, meticulously composed. It’s a truly teutonic musical composition, more dehumanized than kraftwerk ever will be. If you listen closely, the piece is made out of 8 layered sources. The sources — synths, delay’s, drumcomputers — are synced together, by a very influential invention called MIDI. It allowed the composer to prepare a set of limitations and defined rules, and let every source slowly fade in and out. During each part Göttsching tweaks and triggers the sounds, so that a slowly shifting structure appears. It’s not unlike minimalist avant-garde music, in which the base structure is founded on a few basic notes or structures that are repeated with a very limited amount of variations. The context creates this extraordinary effect in which the slightest change of the parameters —could be the note, the cadense, the rhythm, or the filter and the frequencies — has a maximum of consequences in the sound; the minimum of changes even defines the nature of the piece per se. The revolutionary aspect is that he applied minimalist idea’s to new technology, and showed the way for Derrick May, Juan Atkins, Jeff Mills and likes how to let people dance themselves towards transcendental salvation.

Although the record suggests a defined start and end, and even though it has 8 defined parts (again 8; 8 x 8 = 64, the same amount of squares on the board of chess) with names that suggest a specific mood, there is more to it. On a deeper level, you can consider E2-E4 as just one possible output. Göttsching could have started with other filters or other tunings and drumrhythms. As if every game of chess is one possible outcome of the very rigid system beyond it.

The emotional and the psychological plays a very big role in equally chess and E2-E4. As I pointed about above: the game of chess thrives upon rationalized rules and limitations. The concrete output is influenced by the players consciousness and even more, as we are not the rational creatures we want to be, but driven by forces that are the result of thousands of years evolution, by our subconsciousness. Every minor change creates a maximum of consequences. This defines the way we perceive the composition. He himself meant it as a abstract, minimalist piece. But history taught us that the record influenced a stream of dancers and techno musicians. You can either listen to it, or dance to it. But the complexity of sounds, created by a minimum of sources, let’s you drift away in it’s sheer beauty and emotional warmth. The record does not contain emotions, but I’m sure it conveys a lot of emotion.

One last thing I’d like to point out as a striking parallel in between the game of chess and the record. On minute 32.00, or just 2 minutes far in the part that is called Promise, somewhere in the beginning of the B-side if you’re used to listen it on vinyl, suddenly a guitar kicks in. Göttsching is a master guitarplayer. His work with Ashra Temple, and even more the album Inventions for electric guitar exemplify this. Moment 32.00 is a flipping point in the record. It suddenly changes the complete mood of the album. Depending on your mood, it could make the timeless sounding synthesizer structures sound like a cheesy, kitch, outdated lounge track. Is it the guitar shredder Göttsching coming in, as a persona, pointing out that electronic music is minor to real instruments? Or couldn’t he just resist to show off his guitar skills?

Stephane can you tell us a little about your background, both as a pianist and as a listener?

My first experiences as a listener happened in a music loving family where I could hear all kinds of styles ranging from the early classical to the modern, opera, Lieder, chanson française as well as alternative rock, and even some electronic music. The transition to playing music was therefore quite natural and I started playing the piano when I was 6 years old. I never stopped since then. What followed consisted mainly in encountering musicians, all of them somehow influential in my evolution, and discovering the vast territories of music and knowledge in general.

Do you remember when you became aware of Dennis Johnson’ s music? What was it that attracted you to his work in particular?

I have been familiar with so-called minimalist music for many years when I participated in my first recording of Morton Feldman’s music for Sub Rosa with Le Bureau des Pianistes in 1990. Minimalism has played an important role in the way I consider doing music today.

In 1992, American composer Kyle Gann received a tape and a few sketches of Dennis Johnson’s November from La Monte Young. Young told Gann that the piece had influenced him a lot in writing his Well Tuned Piano. And it’s only quite recently that Gann proceeded to work - hard - on the material he had received in order to reconstruct what seemed to be a 5 to 6 hours long minimalist and tonal piece, probably the first one of its kind. I became aware of the piece when pianist Andrew Lee released his recording of it a few years ago.

Do you think there is a reason why Mr Johnson chose ‘ November’ rather than ‘December’ or ‘January’ ?

I haven’t found any information about that except that one fragment is dated from early December which could mean that the piece was started in November. But that’s only a very weak hypothesis.

Is the indication to start off with a ‘ Very Slow’  tempo Johnson’ s, or is it an addition made after Johnson’ s own recording was discovered?

Dennis Johnson: November by R. Andrew Lee

The indication is not found on what seems to be the original sketch and might have been added by Kyle Gann after listening to the recording.

If there would not have been any indication, how would you decide on a tempo for a piece like this?

Well, in this case, the recording is important in reconstructing the piece and apparently, the tempo IS very slow. On the other hand, the style is clearly minimalistic and invites the performer to play slowly. This is also the case with some of Feldman’s pieces which have no indication but cleary belong to a universe of slowness.

I mean this in the sense that with instrumental pieces which obtain a sort of ‘ canonical’  status, there often tends to be a sort of established notion about tempo. For example, a Satie Gnossienne needs to be slow. No one dares to take it fast (anymore).

Of course, but there still remains quite a large range of speeds even in slowness. You can always play slower than slow. I think speed is not necessarily an absolute data but also depends greatly on the length, the harmonics and the quality of sound.

If you could choose, who would you like to be: the performer of “November Music” or a member of the audience who hears the performance?

I always prefer being the performer but I think in the end that in all musical experiences, the performer and the listener tend to merge somehow. We are not considering anymore performing as the active part and listening as the passive one. Every person present become an actor in the listening experience. The performer simply being an operator of sound or a transmitter.

I wonder how much of any current recording of “November Music”, or any current performance of this piece, is actually an improvisation based on just a couple of ideas that were outlined by Johnson?

Well, the piece is basically a series of harmonic patterns which are played rather freely. There is absolutely no notated rhythm. So you could say there is some improvisation involved. But improvising does not mean you do whatever without reason. The material somehow always imposes its own way to the performer. As Feldman once said to Stockhausen: “You don’t push the sounds.” This means for me that the sounds themselves take part in the way they are played.

Do you need to physically prepare yourself for this piece? Or is it a mental thing?

I do indeed prepare myself physically because playing for 5 hours is quite demanding for the back. The longest piece I have ever played was Feldman’s For Philip Guston which lasts 4 1/2 hours. But I know pianists who play much longer. The mental preparation is very important in order to remain concentrated for a very long time. One of the best exercises I know for this is walking and mountain hiking.

When I listen to piano music of Dennis Johnson, La Monte Young and Morton Feldman (to name three composers who were involved in creating looooong piano pieces) , Johnson’ s seems to be the most clearly overtly emotional. Would you agree on this?

No I don’t agree. I think music rouses emotions, but it does not contain any. Music is made of sounds and as such, it can touch the listener in many different ways. The difference between Johnson & Young on one side, Feldman & Cage on the other, resides in the fact that the first ones rely on tonality while the two others are mostly atonal.

Music of long duration… I can’ t wrap my mind to decide what is the most thrilling moment of a 5 hour voyage: the beginning, when all is still open, and you wonder what will be next, where and how it will grow, what it will lead to… or the end of such a piece, when all of the notes themes reverberations suddenly turn out to be a conclusive thing, leaving a listener with a ring in the ears to take home and brood over.