Terry wrote:
To me, production is like makeup on women; when it draws attention to
itself,
then it's not working.
Actually I think most people view production not as makeup (which can
enhance if applied tastefully) but as a window -- a seemingly transparent
view of the performance on the other side. Under this metaphor, the
production really can't do anything to enhance the music, but only get out
of the way; the best it can hope for is that it remains free of specks and
streaks which might obscure our vision of the performance.
I suspect that at the time, the Nashville-sound strings would have been
understood and accepted by listeners as a part of the performance, not part
of the production. (Yes I know that technically everything is "part" of the
production, but I'm thinking more about the average radio listener who
doesn't really think about -- or want to think about -- the fact that what
he/she's listening to is "produced".) 30 years later, in a different
aesthetic climate, those strings and backup singers jump out as
"production," a spot on the window which intereferes with what we now view
(differently) as the performance -- the gritty basics of vocal, guitar,
bass, drums, or whatever.
While extremely critical and musically-educated folks like ourselves may
spend half our day corresponding and debating this stuff (and appreciate
production values), your average listener just doesn't want the medium to
interfere with the content. And it's not just that they don't want to be
challenged, but that our culture thrives under the (very romantic) illusion
that we can gain unmediated access to "real" people through art, without
technology or commercial considerations coloring that access. So yeah, the
grittier and more real the better. (Something philosophical on the
assurance of subjectivity in the face of postmodern alienation would
probably fit here, but I'll save that for the Derrida list...) It's a
culturally-determined way of listening, but one that's become "natural"
nonetheless.
When it comes down to it, it's how I listen as well. As much as I like to
think about and talk about music, the greatest moments are when I can just
escape into it -- not analyze it, not think about it, and, most of all, not
have some element of the "production" remind me that the performance I'm
listening to has been strategically and commercially constructed. (I
imagine the allure of the live performance relates to this desire as well.)
I guess what I'm getting at is that the notion of gritty, bare-bones
reality in music may be a myth, but it's a myth we live by.
