Th Ramblr

That reminds me! I have been meaning to respond to this fucker. This fucking waste of a human. First of all the assclown is trying to borrow some of the brilliance of Pierre Boulez. Well guess what dickbag, you aren’t even worthy of wiping Boulez’s asshole. 

I was nothing more than a quiet, unassuming soul. The most kind person you ever would meet (oh, did I ever fucking meet you, Mr. Asia, no, no I don’t think I’ve had the honor of meeting you you piece of human garbage. 

It is clear that after reading this fucking article that you are only using the headline as a way to try to garner yourself attention. Well congratulations, fucko! But, oh, what is this, what is this that follows the headline? I mean the main part of the piece, the actual article. Yeah. It’s a heaping pile of steaming, rancid, putrid dog shit. 

And while never a serialist, Carter’s music has similar surface and pitch qualities in its complete rejection of any relationship to tonality and its avoidance of any notions of dissonance and consonance, and their relationship to each other. In other words, his usage of intervals in relationship to these concepts is almost nil. The compulsion to join in must have seemed overwhelming, as it affected Stravinsky and Copland no less. Carter used a different note technique but he arrived in a very similar terrain, one void of a predictive quality, and rather bleak and barren.

Well it is plainly obvious that you have no idea what the fuck is going on. Suggesting that I was succumbing to this need to fit in with Stravinsky and (zzz Copland) is asinine. I was and remain even after my fucking death, in a class of my own. 

His approach to time and structure is similarly obtuse. Differing rates of movement in different parts of the orchestra, or the simultaneous creation of different architectural shapes, while an interesting and intriguing idea, just can’t be realized with his musical materials. It is like trying to play with the onward rushing of different streams of colored water; sooner or latter they mix into a very boring shade of continual grayness.

Well jesus fucking christ. I don’t even know where to be in responding to this one. Obtuse? OBTUSE? Sorry if my music doesn’t include a fucking narration that is read along with the music that will tell you exactly what is going on. Actually no, I’m not sorry. What I am sorry is that your article is published on such a high-profile site, and that you write and teach music and you obviously are a close minded piece of shit. I can’t. I can’t even handle this shit. Who gave you the right to judge? You apparently lack qualifications. Congratulations on your take-down piece. Were you hoping that this would bring you some notoriety? That writing a salacious headline like this and then pointing out all the flaws in your hearing would somehow gain you a following. 

I mean, it is clear that this piece has a lot more to do with your insecurities than with me. You know what is even sadder? What is sadder is that there are a whole fucking host of composers out there that agree with you. It’s fucking sad, the state of music composition in this country. It’s a bunch of men that don’t know what they are doing, and writing boring, shitty music that will only get played by their friends. It’s a gigantic, anti-intellectual, anti-craft circle-jerk and I will have none of it. 

Get a handle on your fucking harmonic language. Learn a thing or two about counterpoint and learn how to control a piece of music. Don’t just sit there and fuck around with the note-mover tool on Finale. Don’t grab entire chunks of a piece and transpose it up a few steps because you don’t know how to write a piece that involves any motion. Stop writing “tunes” and start writing fucking pieces. 

Nobody is ever going to remember any of the composers that might agree with you. But people will always remember me because I fucking did things, and I changed things and I was good at my craft. I fucking practiced my craft. Why don’t you go and try that once in a while instead of writing this shit off the top of your fucking head. Oh, excuse me, you included one quote. I guess you are that much closer to writing a fucking scholarly article. 

A number of years ago I attended an all-Carter concert played by some of his most important admirers. They are truly great virtuosi, but even their technique and interpretive powers could not bring coherence to a music in which there is so little. For to produce finely etched music demands a great ear, a large heart, a rich and deep personality, and an unerring sense of drama and pacing. Carter just didn’t have it to give, or he thought he was on to something better, but wasn’t. His deluded music of the eternal present will sadly have little future.

You’re the one with little future.