As a music student, I am concious of the past at all times.
I am constantly followed by thought that anything I accomplish has already been done a thousand times over. It fills me with a sensation of hopeless pointlessness.
I cannot perform music without competeing with the legion of saxophonists standing centuries behind me.
I cannot write music without considering how it "holds up" to the vast catelogue on Spotify.
As a child, I was taught the words "new music" to be synonymous with "Sun FM Pop Radio."
It was not new versus old, but new versus good.
My perspective on what music was "good" was almost entirely limited to music made by white men in the 1960's-80's.
I rarely heard "new music" that I liked before I turned 18, finally bored of old sounds.
There is an infinity of possible new sounds, and we regurgitate the same sounds over and over again.
If I hear my mum listening to Girls Got Rhythm by AC/DC one more time I might explode.
There is so much more to "new music" than what is currently popular.
Even within the popular sphere, it just takes a bit more searching and an ear open to hearing new sounds.
To me, being a musician is more than simply playing music.
To me, being a musician is total dedication to all music is and has to offer.
Today, I am a musician. Not yesterday. God forbid, not decades or centuries before I was even born.
Let me listen to music of today.
Let me play the music of today.
Hell, let me write the music of today.
I don't want to write a Beatles song.
I realized it isn't important for a song I write to follow ABABA format.
It doesn't even have to be a song. What is a song? A birdsong? Even a song could be anything.
Recognising music as what it is-- sound-- makes it all clear.
I want to write something that's mine.
A new sound; my melody on an instrument as infiinite as my paint on a canvas.
I am still in the process of bringing myself into the world of the present.
On saxophone, the only new music I play is of my own improvisation.
I would like to play the music of my fellow students.
I recently had the honour of attending the performance of a brand new piece a friend wrote for alto sax and piano.
Complex Simplicity by Ruby Koep (2022)
A photograph I took of a heritage building, thinking of the looming presence of the past.
