Photograph of King Wizard & The Lizard Wizard. Credit: Jamie Wdziekonski 

1. “Rattlesnake”, King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard,  Flying Microtonal Banana, 2017, Experimental Rock, Australia
2. “Sultan-ı Yegah”, Nur Yoldaş, Sultan-ı Yegah, 1981, Funk/Disco, Turkey
3. “Nassibi”, Acid Arab and Amel Wahby, Jdid, 2019, Electronic, France/Algeria
4. “Fuera de Sektor”, Los Violadores, Fuera de Sektor, 1986, Post-Punk/New Wave, Argentina
5. “Karangailyg Kara Hovaa (Dyngyldai)”, Yat-Kha, Yenisei-Punk, 1995, Folk Rock, Republic of Tuva
6. “Girl Loves Me”, David Bowie, Blackstar, 2016, Experimental Rock/Jazz-Rock, England
7. “不可幸力”, Vaundy, Strobo, 2020, Alternative/Indie, Japan
8. “Frágil Coração”, Rodrigo Alacron, Frágil Coração, 2020, Samba, Brasil
9. “She’s a Revolution”, Kutiman, 6 A.M., 2016, Funk/Psychedelic Rock, Israel
10. “Islamo-Christian Ave (Live)”, Tania Kassis, Tania Kassis Live at l’Olympia 2013, Classical, Lebanon

One of the main issues the music industry faces today concerns the use of genre categorization. In order to promote certain music, industry personnel today rely heavily on consumers’ pre-existing identities and expectations to forge a sense of identification between them and certain products. As a result, many musicians and music industry actors view genre labels as a necessary marketing tool. However, since this leads consumers to perceive music with a preconceived notion, there are those who find such labels restrictive and avoid genre classifications altogether to reach a bigger audience (Whitmore 2016). This not only brings to question the effectiveness of such marketing strategies, but also reflects a problem regarding the way consumers perceive and interact with different genres. As globalization continues to blur the lines of genre classifications, how do we label genres? Is genre categorization an efficient way of interacting with music in the first place?

My playlist is curated in such a way to provide some answers to these questions. The songs featured in this playlist are all products of hybridization and test the limits of genre classifications. By analyzing these songs, I aim to explore the relationship between genre labels and essentialism, that is the overemphasis on characteristics that describe the nature of a certain product (White 2012), and bring into question the effectiveness of hybridization as a means to deconstruct genre categories in today’s world of music.

The order of the songs in this playlist was solely based on the sonic interplay of each track with one another. Consequently, this order was chosen in such a way to introduce some variation in tempo, instrumentation, and harmonic structure, as well as to create compelling transitions in between each track that would highlight their different and similar characteristics.

The first song in the playlist is “Rattlesnake” by the Australian experimental rock band King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard, which explores the fusion of microtonal music and psychedelic rock. At the time this song was recorded, the band were heavily influenced by microtonal Middle Eastern and Turkish music, as well as instruments such as the baglama and the zurna. As a result, “Rattlesnake” was recorded in quarter tone tuning (which is the division of an octave into 24 equidistant tones) using modified guitars  that were fitted with additional microtonal frets.

The second song in the playlist, “Sultan-ı Yegah” by Nur Yoldaş, is the opposite of “Rattlesnake” in the sense that it was produced by a Turkish artist and incorporated elements of popular western music. This song was written in the makam of Sultan-ı Yegâh, which is the transposition of the makam of Buselik to Yegâh, which is based on the root note of D. This makam is sonically and structurally very similar to the D harmonic minor but features the fifth microtonal flat of B instead of the regular B flat. Despite its modal structure, the song features a western funk groove and arrangement and consequently is a fusion of classical Turkish music, pop, funk, disco and soul. 

The third song in the playlist, “Nassibi” by Acid Arab and Amel Wahby, features a mix of western electronica and Algerian influences. Whereas the sonic make-up of the bass and the beat draws inspiration from western electronica, the off-beat punctuations of the main rhythmic pattern are structurally closer to traditional Algerian music and is reminiscent of music based on odd meters. Similar to “Rattlesnake,” the juxtaposition of western and non-western elements is further accentuated by the use of the zurna, a traditional reed instrument.

The fourth track is “Fuera de Sektor “by the Argentinian punk rock band Los Violadores, who are commonly known as the pioneers of the punk rock genre in Latin America. At the time this song was written, the band had been inspired by post-punk and gothic influences and as a result produced a punk rock and new wave song that paints a dystopian landscape where one is faced with isolation, mental and bodily decay as well as loss of control. 

The fifth track, “Karangailyg Kara Hovaa (Dyngyldai)” by the Tuvan band Yat-Kha, utilizes elements of traditional Tuvan music such as the as igil, a traditional two-stringed instrument, as well as the kargyraa throat singing style, the kanzat kargyraa. It starts out relatively bare, with an acoustic guitar and a monotonous vocal line delivered through throat singing and slowly adds new instruments. With the introduction of the igil, a traditional two-stringed instrument, followed by a highly distorted percussive sound and finally an electric guitar, the song becomes a fusion of traditional Tuvan music, electronica and rock. The final section of the song continues to build up on the folk elements by adding another layer of vocal line that underscores the primary overtones of the vocal line sung through throat singing.

The sixth track is “Girl Loves Me” by David Bowie, an experimental rock and jazz-rock song similar to “Fuera de Sektor” in its usage of bleak and dystopic lyrics. Bowie’s lyrics contain Polari and Nadsta, the first of which is a certain type of British slang, and the latter the fictional slang used in the novel A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess. The lyrics also include a reference to the Chestnut Tree, a bar in the dystopian novel 1984 by George Orwell, which further highlights the sense of malice depicted in the song. The song is sonically very distinct from “Fuera de Sektor,” however. Whereas “Fuera de Sektor” employs an upbeat tempo and a catchy chorus, “Girl Loves Me” is slower in tempo and relies more on modes and chromatic scales contrasted with jazz drumbeats.

The seventh and eighth tracks feature musicians who have used classic genre classifications as a foundation on which they have built their personal interpretation. The first of these songs, “不可幸力” by the Japanese singer-songwriter Vaundy, is a JPOP track that incorporates elements of western electronica to create a sound that blurs the lines between alternative rock and electro-pop. On the other hand, the second song, “Frágil Coração” by the Brazilian singer-songwriter Rodrigo Alacron, is a samba piece that breaks down samba to its most basic form through the use of an acoustic guitar and subdued vocals. As the song progresses, elements of downtempo electronica are introduced, such as ambient strings, a simple drum track and digital atmospheric touches.

The ninth track, “She’s a Revolution” by the Israeli singer-songwriter Kutiman, is a fusion of funk, soul and psychedelic rock. The song begins with a bright sounding funk groove that employs an electric guitar, brass, bass, and drums. The funk section is then juxtaposed with a psychedelic soundscape that features high-pitched female vocals that heavily use chromatic and tritone intervals. As the song progresses, these two distinct styles start to be layered simultaneously, which result in a truly unique funky psychedelic sound.

The final track, “Islamo-Christian Ave (Live)” by the Lebanese soprano Tania Kassis, features an arrangement of the Christian Ave Maria accompanied by the Islamic call to prayer performed by Mhammad Shaar and Maen Zakaria. This song not only features religious music from two completely different religions, but two completely distinct musical styles as well. While the arrangement of the Christian Ave Maria utilizes the classical western scale and western harmonies, the Islamic call to prayer utilizes a makam scale, with a completely different microtonal structure. One would expect these two distinct styles to be harmonically incompatible and the resulting sound to be dissonant; however, the arrangement and the instrumentation result in a serene and divine sound that succeeds in underscoring the sacred aspect of each piece.

Ege is a fourth-year at the University of Chicago majoring in Mathematics. He plays the piano and the guitar, composes music, and spends most of his time rearranging Anatolian rock songs.

Bibliography:

1. White, Bob W. 2012. “The Promise of World Music: Strategies for Non-Essentialist Listening.” Chapter 10 in Music and Globalization: Critical Encounters, edited by Bob W. White, Indiana University Press, pp. 189–210.
2. Whitmore, Aleysia K. 2016. “The Art of Representing the Other: Industry Personnel in the World Music Industry.” Ethnomusicology 60, no. 2: 329–55.