Feedback Music

Most people are familiar with the common phenomenon of feedback such as produced inadvertently through poorly configured microphone/speaker situations in concert performances; the sound coming from the amplification system finds its way back into the microphones and produces an uncomfortable squealing sound. The component elements are electronic and acoustic, the latter involving air movement and vibration of physical objects. This also holds true for the famed feedback of Jimi Hendrix and so many electric guitarists since the 1960s - a speaker moving air and shaking the strings and guitar body, magnetic pickups microphonically taking it all in and sending the signal back to the amplifier in an endless cycle. The phenomenon is perfectly represented by the image of the “ourobouros”, a circular symbol portraying a snake swallowing its own tail.

Unlike electroacoustic feedback, I have found over many years that purely electronic feedback - created by allowing devices to speak to themselves - exhibits no limits in terms of tonal coloration and dynamic pattern. In some instances what seem to be vocal sounds, or imitations of conventional instruments, appear; the next moment, a shortwave radio broadcast or atonal orchestral wash. What has perhaps maintained my interest all this time is the fact that the sounds generated by my feedback systems are almost totally unpredictable; I am surprised each and every time I sit down to work with them. This does cut both ways - I admit to being unable to exercise complete control of what tones arise, and it is sometimes a challenge to wrestle these into a shape and form which I find aesthetically satisfying. Every performance (including performances only for a recorder) is a duet improvisiation wherein I am paired with a truly crazed player. It can be a workout, and worse, an embarrassment: a public performance may be fully gratifying, or something less. However, I pride myself on the fact that no concertgoer will ever hear the same presentation twice. It is simply not possible.

Music created entirely through feedback may be viewed in two ways. In one sense, it might be said that it is a case of simple autocannibalism. But I prefer a more positive stance: no living organism can exist without feedback, without a constant monitoring of itself, and I seriously consider the flow of electrons described above as a living thing. The feedback principle may in fact represent one of man’s greater possibilities; the words commonly attributed to Socrates, “know thyself”, imply several levels of meaning. I perceive, but I also have the possibility of perceiving that I perceive - and this may create an entirely new phenomenon. The same seems to hold true in the world of sound as well.

—DLM

Sound Tech

Approaches

True electronic music does not imitate the classical orchestra or lend well worn melodies the cloak of unexpected timbres - it exists to evoke the hitherto unknown. And it comes from circuits and wires, though I do not believe that electronic sound is "'unnatural", as some people might. An electron is no less alive than I, is in fact a perfectly normal part of great nature - a part of me, even. A big interest for me in making electronic music has always been to unleash the electron, to let it be itself rather than forcing electrical impulses to imitate violins. A focus of the Feedback Music was always to allow devices to "sing their own songs" - well, within certain chosen parameters of course.

There has always been an awkward moment for me when an acquaintance finds out that I am a "musician"; one doesn't wait long for the inevitable question "what do you play?". I have by and large made music without instruments, and I view the whole MIDI phenomena as something of a disaster for true electronic music. It had to be that Bob Moog would hook up black and white keys to his circuits, but I lament the occurrence. For me, electronic sound is a pulse of the cosmos which never heard of J. S. Bach, much as I might appreciate the genius of that other music. The electron rules its own universe, and I wish to help it become manifest to human ears, if you can excuse the pretense.

So... feedback music, processor music. The idea is that an effects device is fed some of its own output - much like a squealing speaker which accidentally feeds the microphone supplying its input - and electrons begin to flow as they wish. The trick is to shape this flow, select the feedback paths which create an aesthetically pleasing (or whatever) direction and shape. What is required is several devices whose business it is to bend sound into various shapes, and a routing scheme which allows them to speak to each other and to themselves. Any effects device and a decent mixer with a couple of "effects sends" can do the job, but for me the only way to go about it is to build a dedicated mixer. This way I don't have 200 knobs doing lots of other things I don't need done; I can see the paths more clearly and get to the work of massaging the flow. Besides, a quiet mixer (very important) with six sends will probably cost you a lot of dough and will mostly just be in the way. Are you with me?

The first picture is an early ink-on-paper drawing I made to give an idea of the first Feedback Machine. More akin to a block diagram than a schematic, you can see how each digital delay output can be routed back to itself or to the other delays. In practice, I often got some squeals going with short delay times and fed this sound to a delay functioning as a several-second loop. This could then be directed to another short or long delay, and so on. The process requires a lot of "playing" and is by no means a "set-and-forget" situation.


The next picture is of the "Feedback Workstation". This is how carried away you can get, and it developed over years. Four Digitec 7.6 second delays seen in the righthand sloping rack are the main deal. Included are custom mixer with feedback matrix, a smaller submixer, two DIY ring modulators, a nutty timeclock generator/enveloper/delay modulator, and various general-use processors like graphic EQ, Alesis reverb unit, patchbay, etc. Most of the Arcane Device music was done with this versatile setup, though earlier incarnations were actually transportable and used in performance.


Next, the "carry on" Feedback Machine, also called the Shoebox, on a stand for performance. This was based on three Digitec PDS 20/20 delay pedals which I ripped out of their boxes and stuffed into this enclosure along with an Alesis Microverb. A real rat's nest inside, and a touchy unit, but it rocked in its way. Crummy AC at a concert ended its life when smoke actually came out! Too bad. Mounted on top is a device called The Squealer. Two underachieving theremin circuits from a hobbyist magazine were cross-wired and the sensors brought out as wire strips on the box face. The sounds were limited but cool, and to play it required grabbing and rubbing which worked well visually in performance.

Last is a diagram showing the kind of setup I've used in recent years. Advances in processor design allow for more sound-bending in smaller and cheaper devices than ever, and there is less and less need to build extensive mixing arrangements. The feedback mixer here is very minimal and easy to construct.

Finally, as in most of music production nowadays, software is replacing our beloved hardware of old. A program like Ableton Live can be configured to do a splendid job of Feedbacking, and the latest Feedback Music projects are taking this route. Bon appetit!