Bleeps & Bloops


I recently copied some of The Verge staff and bought a notebook for the sole purpose of writing anything that came to my head. The first thing that I wrote in my notebook was about electronic music.

Bleeps and bloops, as some corners of the internet affectionately call it. And unfortunately, this kind of music, the bare essentials of the art, has become a punch-line, in some regards. Many people find that it’s simply not music. But the point of this post is to explain that some electronic music can be more emotionally charging than any song about a break-up from Taylor Swift. And the reason why I’ve grown to love some electronic music, like 8-bit music, is that it’s the raw, minimalist content that truly allows your imagination to grow. Your mind to gather its thoughts.

It’s the simplicity, for me, that makes this music amazing. The song here, for instance, doesn’t have words. But I feel something when I listen to it. It’s no longer just bleeps and bloops. And I think that, to craft something that delicate and simplistic, makes electronic music an art.

Not all music of the genre is good. Not all of it exhibits the traits I’ve outlined above. But the songs that do have this amazing quality which allows me to just think. And it’s not Taylor Swift’s thoughts, and my constant need to relate, but instead it’s my own thoughts. There is no longer a need to relate, because it’s me. It unlocks my thoughts. In reality, behind it all, there aren’t many people in the world that you can talk to. And I mean really talk to. I don’t feel that I have anyone who I’m always myself around. There’s always a fake feeling attached to it. And that’s not something bad, but it’s something that worries me. Am I really being myself? The world is a lonely place. Social technology gives us a false impression that we aren’t lonely anymore. And it’s the ability to go back and change something online that makes it fake. That’s another point I’d like to repeat, seeing as someone else has probably already said it. I can go back and change things online, but if I say something in real life, it’s there forever, despite what people will tell you about cyber-bullying. In fact, the internet is the only place where you can attempt to repair mistakes. You can’t do that in the real world without an apology. But online, you can pretend it never happened. Or you can think before you say something. It’s harder to do that in real life.

Which is why I’d like to stick up for the genre and my new hardcover pocket notebook. Just because electronic music is made with a computer, it doesn’t mean it’s shallow. And having the ability to say whatever I want to a collection of paper, as I described it before, is also strangely relieving. There’s some sort of deeper feedback from that kind of music than any other. A deeper feedback from writing than talking. Especially when I can sometimes feel trapped in myself.

Note: I recently bought a notebook. Yes, I know it’s not like I’m the first person to not use an online notebook, but I feel that online services for note-taking just don’t feel as natural as, obviously, pen and paper. And this is coming from a guy who loves e-books. One of the things some people don’t understand is that I’m terrible at talking, in most cases, but that I can fully express myself through writing. Which is why this fairly unimportant blip on the map for almost everyone else is quite different for me. Since then I’ve been writing a lot into my little red notebook, which I’ve named Vanilla. Yes, it’s a lonely life when an inanimate collection of paper becomes this essential to me.