El Condor Pasa
November 24th, 2008The original version, at least according to YouTube…

I hear a number of different things in this piece. The first detail I noticed is the use of stringed instruments in addition to flutes and drums, meaning that wayno is not a pre-Columbian style of music. However, these fade into the background once the flutes begin to play. It sounds like there are two flutes: one with a higher pitch and one with a lower pitch. They start off going back and forth playing the same melody, but as the pace of the piece quickens and the volume rises, they begin to harmonize. The higher flute tends to elaborate more, while the lower one sticks to the basic melody. For me, wayno music also carries sounds of home. It reminds me of my mom playing CDs with titles like “Spirit of the Andes” and telling me about her home in Lima, Peru; it reminds of my brother and I playing around with the souvenir-quality situ that we always had in the house. I grew up listening to this cosmopolitan type of music (so for me it’s an index!) even though my mom is not from the region where its roots lie. But, somewhat ironically, music of the pampas like wayno has become iconic of Peru, even though the people who inspired it have been subjugated for years. Hopefully the rising popularity of Andean flutes will help combat this issue.

While deciding which song to blog about this week, this track immediately caught my eye. I used to watch Xena as a little girl, but never gave much thought to where the theme song came from. I find it really interesting that it is inspired by Bulgarian music. Listening to it again, I can distinctly hear the gaida at the beginning of the song, and the nasaly female voices are harmonizing in what I can only guess is Bulgarian, but I can’t be sure if the rest of the instruments are actually Bulgarian. I can’t tell if the drums are tupan or the brass instruments are zurna or the string instruments are gudulka. But to me it sounds very different than the dance music we have been listening to; it has a pounding rhythm that is considerably slower and more dramatic than the dance music we’ve heard, which makes sense because it is for a dramatic TV show and for listening rather than dancing. I suppose it had to be Westernized a bit to make it a theme song for an American TV show. In a way this shows just how “globalized” the world has become: Bulgarian-influenced music in an American TV show. I think that’s pretty cool, even though the Bulgarian-ness has been watered down and Xena has nothing to do with Bulgaria.

The first thing I thought of when I heard this was gamelan. It sounds like he is using similar instruments, so maybe the Shona people of Zimbabwe have their own version of the kettle gong. In addition, it sounds like there is some sort of tamborine and a metallophone. Since there are at least three instruments he probably has someone else playing along with him. As someone who does not know much about music, I found it helpful to hear the song broken down and explained; I feel like I have a better grasp on how this music works. As he says, it is an example of ostinato, with four short phrases that are played over and over again. Like gamelan, the song also has a base layer created by what sounds like some kind of metallophone and the tamborine (?) as well as an elaborating layer created by an instrument that sounds like kettle gongs to me.

Gamelan belangjur is typically heard at life cycle events such as temple anniversaries and cremations. It is played in processions with the heavy gongs on poles, drums on straps around the neck, and the rack of kettle gongs is divided up. Gamelan belangjur is played on a cycle based on eight beats, reflecting the importance of cycles in the daily lives of the Balinese people. The single large kettle gong plays on each beat, while a two-note melody is played on smaller kettle gongs. The largest and deepest “female gong” marks beginning of cycle on beat eight, while the smaller “male gong” marks beat four. An even smaller gong plays on beats five and seven. The most dominating sound comes from the cymbals known as ceng ceng (a reference to the sound they make). Anywhere from five to ten pairs of ceng ceng play syncopated or interlocking rhythm together, which gives a powerful beat to the processional piece I heard on the website. The interlocking rhythm they can create is called kotekan and has religious symbolism. The onbeat is male and the offbeat is female, but both patterns are the same; they are simply placed and accented differently. This type of gamelan varies between loud and soft, as well as between unison and interlocking. Four small kettle gongs called reyong also create kotekan in gamelan belangjur. Some pieces in this style are submitted for competition and judged as works of art: tempo and volume change dramatically and the focus shifts to different instruments throughout the piece.
Angklung is another type of Balinese gamelan. Named for the small bamboo rattles that are particular to this style, t is very popular at temple anniversaries and cremations. It can accompany a dance called pependetan, which is a holy ceremony for purifying temples. It is a relatively small gamelan, and it can sometimes be processional. Small metallophones called gangsa lead the melody; they are unique in that they have only four keys. Other instruments include eight kettle gongs, small drums, cymbals, and a hanging gong. Unlike gamelan belangjur, ankglung has no male and female gong, and it also does not follow the cyclical pattern of belangjur. I also did not hear cymbals or the kotekan rhhtym in the angklung piece. It also sounds much more high-pitched and fast paced. I noticed an intro from gangsa before the rest of the instruments began. Tempo varies throughout the piece, usually speeding up before it slows down.
Though these two styles are used in some of the same contexts, their sounds and their significance are actually very different. The instruments used are similar but the way they are played creates a whole different meaning and style.

Ladrang Wilujeng has a generally slow tempo and a circular melody that keeps repeating for a while. Coupled with the high-pitched singing, the effect is almost hypnotizing. The part at the end when all the singers harmonize sounds a bit off-pitch to my Western ears, but I really like it. This piece has a larger variety of instruments than the other track, Buburang Kembang Pacar; it sounds like a kind of stringed instrument is being played in addition to the high-pitched gongs found in both. Buburang also has a circular melody, but it seems a bit faster than the first track. It is also strictly instrumental, with nothing but gongs and drums. Ladrang Wilujeng sounds like it might be used in one of those shadow puppet productions; maybe the second one is, too. What do you think?

“Sidi” has a moderate tempo and even, repetitive rhythm created by the drums that accompany the talempong. It is also the only track with music from what sounds like a type of aerophone. The group “Urang Halaban” sounds like a faster and higher pitched version of “Sidi”; it is also much more textured. “Minangkabau” is also high pitched and has the slowest tempo of all of these selections. The pieces are similar in the fact that all three have repeating rhythm and all are textured. “Sidi’s” tempo and even rhythm lead me to think that this song might be used for ceremonies, perhaps with dancing. “Urang Halaban’s” faster rhythm and textured drumming makes it sound less formal; I can also hear children shouting in the background, so this combination makes me think that “Urang Halaban” is used primarily for family entertainment. “Minangkabau’s” higher pitch and slower tempo remind me of church bells; to me this piece sounds like a hymn or some other type of religious song.

Listening to the call to prayer gives me chills. It is the icon of both Middle Eastern music and Muslim faith, and there is something hauntingly beautiful about the way it is sung; I imagine that hearing this while walking down the street and watching everyone flock towards the mosque would be a powerful experience. Although as a non-Muslim it is difficult for me not to call this music, I respect the opinions of others and understand why it is not music to them. It does make me wonder how Muslims feel about the ringtone version, though. For me this track is an index; it reminds me of a school talent show where a girl danced to a song that had part of the call to prayer spliced in. Some Muslim students were really offended that she used it as music because to them it was invested with so much power and meaning that using it as a song to dance to was sacrilegious. It seems turning a song that is so iconic of Muslim faith into a ringtone would be even more demeaning. The original is much better, but personally I enjoy the beat of the ringtone version. But what do I know? I’m just your average spiritually-exploring kind of person.

Rugrats was probably my favorite show when I was little; every time I heard the theme song I would run to the TV, excited for another episode. So for me it has become an index of actually watching the show. It brings back all those warm, fuzzy memories of lazy afternoons curled up in front of the TV with Tommy, Chuckie, and the gang.

The sound of a rainstick always reminds me of–you guessed it–rain. The instrument is made so that the beads (or beans or whatever) sound like drops of rain hitting the ground, so a rainstick is an icon for rain.
If you click on the link there’s a sound clip to the right.
