Meta-Critique

My analysis has been a multi-leveled approach to understanding the significance of Meshuggah's "New Millennium Cyanide Christ."  The most useful tool for analysis was the relationship of phenomenological sound and the lyrical and musical representative significance to form a developing onto-historical world.

The phenomenological analysis was particularly difficult for me, I think because as a longtime listener of Meshuggah and given the radical, technical nature of their oeuvre, it has become a habit to incorporate my understanding of the work with syntactical analysis.  However initially unlikely, attempting to bracket out my prior biases was influenced by my presentation to the class, particularly the comment that it sounded like a "jackhammer"; the class helped me attempt re-view what was right in front of me--the exhilaration of hearing Meshuggah for the first time was renewed by the reactions of classmates (from amused to appalled).  Engaging works directly as sound is something that must be practiced in order to successfully overcome the programming provided by a society in which music theory is the top educational priority.

The implications of our technological age account for the onto-historical discoveries of this work; Meshuggah has shaped their work according to a culturally perceived conflict, and the turmoil of our world is apparent.

The greatest strength of this analysis is the format as a blog, because it allows one to constantly modify previous efforts based on further investigation; thus I am dynamically engaged with the work on a higher level due to the ability to constantly amend or re-think my discoveries.  This may also be seen as a weak point however, because the interpretations or evaluations made at any certain point are not necessarily more correct than previous assertions; I have therefore amended sections by adding things onto the end, leaving the previous investigation untouched.

Open Listening 1

New Millennium Cyanide Christ:

http://www.seeqpod.com/search/?plid=70f013c429

The piece is at a medium/fast walking tempo (just the right tempo to head-bang to), although the subdivision of the large pulse creates a frantic, thrashing feel.  The sound consists of two guitars, bass, drums, and vocals, and in middle and later sections two more guitar overdubs are incorporated.  The sound is harsh, grating, jagged, and evokes a carnal, primal sense of ritualism, perhaps because it resembles tribal music in its rhythmic ferocity and polyrhythmic layers (and its tonal ambiguity).

The jagged, low riffs played by guitars and bass, and kick drum rarely repeat; they change from section to section in a process similar to variations in classical music.  Different sections are often preceded by brief breaks (entire band rests).  The work appears to be primarily through-composed.

The music is disorienting, difficult to comprehend, creating a sense of anti-personal, noninvolvement.  The guitar solo is particularly gut-wrenching, achieving a sort of tortuous, wiggling sound.

The final "groove," in which the vocalist plays no part, gives the piece a sense of finality and fades into obscurity, as if a giant machine is rolling into the distance over the desolate remnants of a destroyed city.

Onto-historical World

Onto-historical worlds:

“New Millennium Cyanide Christ” has to do with the paradoxes of our technologically saturated society.  The primary discrepancy (or unsettling theme) is of technology obscuring or obsolescing the natural (“darkened forms”).  The music reflects this in the struggle implied by electronic based music (clearly this music could not exist in its current form without the technological developments that comprise its sound) with the potential to extract meaning or humanity.  The human emotional level (the primal, raw aspect of the music) is somehow paradoxical and inseparable from the technological processes used for expression, and the technical voracity which implies machinistic aspirations in the manipulation of patterns—Meshuggah demonstrates the duality of technology; the creation of meaningful art through technology, while simultaneously revealing its contradictory component of self-destruction.  Religious elements are incorporated in the technological extinguishing of nature, a quantification of the feeling of divinity associated with man and learned through the processes of our post-industrial complex world.  The ideas expressed are those established within a 19^th century industrial society that implies the domination of man over nature (and the right to rule); our perspective of man as an evolutionary arrival in our capability for higher levels of consciousness and thought, and the balance of physical ability to extend ourselves.  The humanistic urge to resist decadent natural processes (which as we may see is perhaps the inherent point of our society) is illuminated but paradoxically related to a ritualistic process of self-destruction not only of the personal biological form but of the surrounding environment, because obviously the human body is a natural thing—the concept of becoming divine is “flipped” to the process of suicide through the abolishment of natural processes.  Religion is perceived as a separation of the divine and the decadence of natural processes, but the implication is not just religion but rather the prevalent role that religion continues to play in modern society; it is not a critique of religion but rather a summative metaphor of the whole process of civilization.  Meshuggah turns McLuhan’s assertion of a global village on its head, revealing that civilization leads humanity through a ritualistic process of horrific self-destruction.  

On further contemplation, however, it seems that my former interpretation was incomplete: the implications of “New Millennium” do not assert that civilization itself is self-destructive, but rather that the 19^th century, classical view or philosophical perspective is obsolete in the age of technological connectedness.  The 19^th century classical view, influenced by Descartes, the implications of Darwin’s theories, and others, proclaims that men are like machines cast out into a harsh, lonely world in a harsh, lonely universe, where we must essentially beat nature into submitting to our divine, unnatural will.  There is a mental division of man and nature, and this is precisely what the song illustrates.  As Marshall McLuhan knew, however, and many other artists in the early 20^th century (i.e. James Joyce, Picasso), we have come into a stage of new tribalism brought by the inclusion of new technological mediums (such as the telephone, television), which transform the isolated, Gutenberg-ian perspective, to a constantly connected, instantaneous, informational one (Marhsall McLuhan here makes the point that a vast amount of information is available at all times like never before in human history: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ph6zqr3y4QE). 

What Meshuggah has channeled artistically is the absurdity of hanging onto an obsolete 19^th century perspective given the technological, physical, philosophical, and biological advancements in the 20^th century, which have the potential to change our perspective of the world.  To blindly believe that we are still “Incandescent revelations in a world of darkened forms” is self-destructive and ignorant, given the developments made in scientific and psychological fields which point us to a greater understanding of our nature,  and the developments in technology which give us access to this information all the time.  “New Millennium Cyanide Christ” has essentially embodied the great turmoil of the transfer from an age of isolationism (print, linear, logical) into an age of connectedness (energy, instantaneous, resonant).  This has been the root of all problems in most recent generations—the unwillingness to sacrifice obsolete procedures and perspectives, and the self-destructive effects of this, in an age where the previous understanding of human nature cannot be sustained.

Phenomenological Description

Phenomenological Description:

Try to bracket out syntactical and referential elements:

 

The song begins with a bang, one notices the overtones in the bass region of the groove, and its grungy, biting (almost twangy) sound.  The sound is abrasive, pulsing, and relentless; a fellow classmate referred to the sound as a “jackhammer” (although this may be referential, the sound is so sonorously recognizable that the metaphor is appropriate).  The note lengths in the beginning alternate between those that sing (held slightly longer) and those that are cut short to create a chugging, lurching sound; where (early) Metallica may be said to embody the lumbering, horrific, and immense creatures from the stories of H.P. Lovecraft, Meshuggah may be likened to the brutal, power-hungry and paranoid totalitarian regime of 1984.

From the first note the sound is unified, as if played by one groove-machine (when introducing Meshuggah to one of my jazz professors his response was, “This sounds like it was sequenced on a computer”).  The bass, kick drum, and guitar parts are barely distinguishable as they all are mixed at the same level, causing the recording to sound cold and lifeless, devoid of atmosphere, ambiguity, or shifts in volume.  The left channel provides a cymbal pulse that drives continuous forward, while on the left channel cymbal splashes emphasize points where the pulse and the “jackhammer” collide.  The texture is incredibly dense, it may be referred to as a “hot” medium in the McLuhan sense.  Nothing is left to the imagination, and there are no spaces to fill in by the mind of the listener (like the coolness, say, of a “Sorcerer” by Miles Davis’ second quintet).

At 0:25 Jens Kidman’s angular, scraping voice tears across the density in monotonous flurries; the voice provides a continuous chanting quality, and as the groove-machine changes or increases intensity (such as 2:32) the voice becomes more heightened and frantic.  The voice hammers chillingly away, contrasting with the sustained guitar entrances (which appear out of nowhere at 1:03 and 3:47), which despite the increased length does not provide a lyrical element in the midst of compression; rather the sustained guitars present a hollow, shallow, shiny, and flat sound.  When the higher register guitars return at 3:07 the static, white-noise vocal contrasts remarkable with the transparency of the guitar tone.

The guitar solo (2:57) is an ascending, searching, winding maelstrom of tones and overtones, transforming the shiny timbre of the sustained guitars previously mentioned to a contrasting context (in terms of note sustenance and musical intent), which merges into the lurching section at 3:21.

The song ends with a gradual receding into the horizon.

Musical Representation

Musical representation:

The sustained, higher guitars at 1:03 may represent alarms.  Conjures up the image of a giant spotlight roaming a desolate wasteland searching for humans.  The riffing part summarizes the human who is staggeringly complex biologically, but philosophically tries to beat itself into a mechanical, inhuman force; the higher guitars symbolize the authority that presides over the marching humans with a sort of timeless beckoning.

Interesting points:

1. Religion, obviously, the Christ aspect:
1. Anagram?
2. Higher human form
3. Disciples
4. Norm
5. God of cyanide
6. Cleansing worshipping
2. Words
1. Anagram
2. Written letters
3. The characters I am made into a word complete
3. Decadence
1. Pathetic tissue
2. Fake pre-present in me
3. Self-inflicted fractures
4. My worldly useless skin
4. Transcendence
1. Elevate me to a higher human form
2. Staples to pin it over my ears
3. Non-receptive of ungodly sounds
4. Without speech there will be no deceit
5. Conformity/Machines
1. Then I’ll be the new norm
2. Replace my bones with bars
3. Aluminum bleeding oxide
4. I disable the audio-generators of fear
5. Hexagonal bolts to fill my mouth, sharpened to deplete the creator of all violence

Textual Representation

Textual Representation:

 

I am a carnal organic anagram, human flesh instead of written letters

I rearrange my pathetic tissue, I incise, I replace, I’m reformed.

I eradicate the fake pre-present in me, elevate me to a higher human form.

The characters I am made into a word complete then I’ll be the new norm.

1^st theme (overarching theme), carnal organic anagram; the entire poem is an explication of this description of the human body (and mind?) which needs to be altered in a process congruent with post-industrial and capitalist society priorities.

 

Self-inflicted fractures.  I replace my bones with bars;

Aluminum bleeding oxide, the drug of gods into my pounding veins.

2^nd theme, self injury in order to replace organic body matter with synthetic metals (less susceptible to the injury of everyday wear and tear); implies that chemical/metal replacement is a “drug” through which one can become more godly

 

My receiving eyes exchanged with fuses; blindness induced to prevent destruction.

Ceramic blades implanted past my ribs to save me from the dues of inhalation.

I tear my worldly useless skin.  Staples to pin it over my ears.

Non-receptive of ungodly sounds—I disable the audio-generators of fear.

2^nd theme, replacement of sensory-receptors with machines or machine components, covering up or obsolescence of receptors, implication that the received elements from the outside world are ungodly and cause unwanted and unacceptable decadence and emotional responses, something that machines are not capable of possessing (“dues of inhalation,” “my worldly useless skin,” “audio-generators of fear”)

 

Hexagonal bolts to fill my mouth, sharpened to deplete the creator of all violence;

Without speech there will be no deceit.

2^nd theme expanded, obsolescence not only of sensory receptors but dispensers, as in speech with the implication that speech causes “distortion of the truth” or is misleading and causes “all violence”; further implies an act of self-inflicted injury to destroy a natural body function or capability in order to attain greater righteousness.

 

Baptized in vitriolic acid.  A final touch, the smoothing of features.

Completion of the greatest art; to cast the godly creatures.

Humans, once astray, made divine.  Stripped of congenital flaws.

We’re incandescent revelations in a world of darkened forms.

2^nd theme further expanded, fully destroying all “congenital flaws” (human features, anything capable of sensing) by smoothing, making more proper and artistic, aesthetically pleasing, more godly (“made divine”).  The final line might be a metaphor for humanity and nature—through the machine-incorporation process (the integration and expansion of technology to replace natural “flaws”) we become more holy (“incandescent”) and thus glow with the gift of godliness in the realization of our divinity, and disassociate ourselves from the “darkened forms” of nature that surround us (made dark by our condemnation of them).

 

Disciples, come join with me to save a failed humanity.

Follow the god of cyanide into the new eternity.

Behold; a sacrificial raze, a cleansing worshipping of pain.

The new millennium cyanide Christ here to redeem all from lies.

A social call, first explicit relationship to Jesus Christ (although clearly there are religious aspects preceding), a societal call to join in the self-effacing ritual of pain worship (a definition, perhaps, of religion); “Cyanide” in this context presumably means poison, and implies suicide (perhaps the logical extension of the mechanization process is suicide, since that is the only way that decay would not consciously occur, presumably by immersion in acid), although this may bring up another theme of scientific terms as they are associated with harmful processes (onto-historical world…).  Not letting nature win, being so far removed from nature that one will go to painful lengths to be free from it (from ones own body); a perversion (or interpretation) of Christ as one who leads humanity into destroying nature as a way to “redeem all from lies” and experience true divinity.

 

The text presents a juxtaposition of organic elements with man-made elements.  An attempt to make everything "good" (or conformed, the same) is expressed in an examination of the western religious attempts to eradicate things that are not normal.  The primary contradiction is in the very first sentence: “carnal organic anagram.”  Carnal meaning pertaining to the flesh or body (“its passions or appetites”) and the state of being not spiritual, “merely human, temporal, worldly.”  How can a carnal, non-spiritual, instinctual, primal be an anagram (“a word, phrase, or sentence formed from another by rearranging its letters”)?  

The message behind the lyrics seems to be that since emotional involvement in the surrounding "outside" world is the cause of all "violence," "fear," and "destruction," then to eliminate the sensorial aspects of our bodies (the "generators" of this outside world) would be to eliminate emotional involvement; thus violence, fear, and destruction would be eliminated, and humanity would ascend to "higher human form" of divine, pain-worshipping machines.  Paradoxically however, implied in the first statement ("I am a carnal organic anagram") is that the rearrangement of our bodies (as explained in the following stanzas, i.e. "I replace my bones with bars") is that what makes us profane--it is because we choose to "better" ourselves through the incorporation of technology that we have fallen from grace, even though we continue searching for an answer to the problem of emotions and their consequences.

Virtual Feeling

Virtual Feeling:

1. The opening riff pounces on the listener surprisingly (although perhaps not within the context of the album), creating a sense of urgency or overwhelming intensity; this is the chaos aspect of the music.  The tonality is ambiguous as two notes (whole step) do not have any typical western tonal relationship; the amount of sound is notable as it is staggeringly large and dense, even in its primarily unison delivery.  The pulse is surging, enticing, beckoning because of its sheer force.  (As demonstrated by the video) This music brings out a primal physical reaction that is much like dancing but less refined, less subtle—at their concerts a giant mosh pit is formed, everyone is touching, fighting, pushing, rocking, you would be hard pressed to find someone standing still and listening.  So there is the physical energy that the music conveys, the brute force aspect that might make someone want to headbang.  It is somewhat ritualistic in nature, perhaps?  Because it is so primal and intense and unrelenting, unforgiving, and it sort of implies a ceremonial, collective act or prescribed mode of behavior—it does not accomplish this through a set of social rules, however, but merely by the brute force of the music and rhythmic tenacity. The sound is alarming and disorienting, but it stirs some primal element within.  One is left with the curious contradiction of recognizing a familiar pattern while also being barraged with unfamiliar patterns.
2. When the vocals enter this unrelenting-ness is increased as another rhythmic layer is added and one is left with the staggering, vertiginous task of recognizing patterns among the melee of polyrhythms.  The vocalist implies not a sense of anger, but of declaration
3. The higher sustained guitar entrances in Interlude 1 (at 1:03) create a very creepy feel, adding to the dizzying array of lurching rhythms an ominous feeling.  They are oddly serene, and give one a sense of awe, or even the feeling of being watched by something or the frightening realization that you are being hunted.  There is a paranoid, compulsive feeling.
4. The whole work has a sense of urgency in the sense that it progresses from a feeling that is already extremely intense, to an all-out sense of panic and impending doom, as if they are trying to fit more and more notes in smaller sections of time.
5. The guitar solo sounds agonizing, flailing, and brings with it a sense of awe as to the sheer power of its rhythmic execution.  The solo creates a sense of searching, internal suffering, like a squirming bug.
6. In the last verse the “sacrificial raze” creates a further sense of awe or wonderment (how could a voice sound like that?), and serves to tighten or increase the intensity even more.
7. The triple section at 3:20 paves the way for the 3:47 melodic line which is the final beckoning, almost irresistible at this point—it is a startling display of propaganda.  The upper guitar lines reappear at this point to cast their inescapable spell again.  The screams over this create a sense of final choice, a sense of destiny or mythological
8. The final groove is a sense of inclusion, it firsts states what it is comprised of, then gives you the feeling with the four on top of it, as if to say, here is what is going on under the surface.  It is unsettling as the dissonant guitar in three reappears, scanning above the groove; there is a sense of unstoppability, and one feels immense awe at its relentless, intoxicating spell of power and oppression.

Syntax

Syntax:

Divided into 12 sections.

1. Opening riff guitar time signatures (8 measure big 4 cycle):
1. Repeats at about 13 (seconds)—Riff Lesson part 3, 6:51
2. Short (10/16), short (10/16), long, short, long, short, long, short, long, short, long, short (3/16)
3. Plays this cycle twice (until about 0:25)
2. Verse 1 (“I am a carnal”) cycle:
1. 3/4, 3/4, 3/4, 3/4, 4/4 (16 beats, 4 measures big 4)
2. Intro of triple feel in rhythm guitar
3. Repeats 4 times (each lyrical line takes one cycle)
3. Verse 2 (“Self-inflicted”) cycle (0:50)
1. 3/4, 9/16, 13/16, 10/16 (44 16^th beats)
2. 8 measure cycle (repeats 4 times?)
3. In the 2^nd verse the vocals and melodic instruments increase their intensity by raising in pitch and changing to an unstable melodic relationship to the previously established tonal center. 
4. Interlude 1 (1:03)
1. Entrance of lead guitars (one in 3/4, one in 4/4)
2. Intro of triple feel in lead guitar
3. Same rhythmic cycle as Verse 1
4. Repeats 4 times
5. Verse 1a (“My receiving eyes”) (1:28)
1. Same cycle as Verse 1
6. Verse 2a (“Self-inflicted fractures”) (1:53)
1. Same cycle as Verse 2
2. Break
7. Interlude 2 (2:06)
1. Same cycle as intro
8. Verse 3 (“Baptized in”) (2:32)
1. Staccato bursts of 16^th notes
9. Guitar solo (2:57)
1. Solid, legato 16^th notes
2. Same rhythmic cycle as Verse 3
3. 3 note phrases, deviates always returns to triple feel
10. Verse 4 (“Disciples”) (3:21)
1. Following the triple feel of guitar solo, rhythmically goes into 4 over 3
2. Bent notes
3. Stays in big 4
4. Singer (for the most part, not at the beginning of the cycle, where he sings quarter notes) follows the feel of the band
5. “Lands” after breaks on 1
6. 4 measure cycle
11. Interlude 3 (3:47)
1. Continuation of 4 over 3 feel
2. Same rhythmic cycle as Verse
3. G, C, F; G, C, F, G, A, F, G

                                               i.     Melodic theme, extension of whole step motif from earlier riffs

4. Lead guitars play sustained harmony in higher register in 4/4 (return of other guitar in 3/4), this time a half step lower than the tonal focus at 1:06
11. Outro (4:12)
1. Double-tracked scream is withheld a little (first track drops out)
2. 3/4, 4/4, 3/4, 4,4, 2/4 (repeat)
3. Continues 4 over 3 idea with first two notes in each rhythmic phrase
4. First two times through cycle the larger 4 feel is implied (the overarching 4/4 is not played by any band members, on the third time the drums resume quarter note cymbal pulse and snare drum hit on third beat)
5. At 4:38 higher spaced-out guitar enters in 3/4, notes half-step apart, dissonance is created with sustained minor 2nd interval

Historical Background

All the songs referenced in this analysis can be found on the following playlist:

http://www.seeqpod.com/search/?plid=a441c51fdd

Historical background:

Chaosphere was Meshuggah’s third album released on “Nuclear Blast” record label on November 10, 1998.  Meshuggah is a Swedish experimental metal band (although I would call it “interesting metal”) founded in 1987 in Umea.  Fredrik Thordendal (the lead guitarist, who I believe at this point was playing drums) started Metallien in 1985, which disbanded and later reformed with Jens Kidman on vocals/guitar called Meshuggah (an alteration of the Yiddish word meaning “crazy”).  Jens was fired and other members left, and Kidman’s new band Calipash eventually recruited Thordendal, and the name Meshuggah was revived.  Tomas Haake (drums) did not join until 1990 when they released Contradictions Collapse—an interesting thing to note is that both Thordendal and Haake injured themselves (Thordendal was a carpenter, Haake in a grinder accident?).

 

New Millenium Cyanide Christ is written by Marten Hagstrom and Fredrik Thordendal, from the album Chaosphere (which is a contradictory word, used to sum up their seeming chaotic phenomenological elements of their sound with the extremely precise, mechanical execution and composition).  This album was released after Contradictions Collapse (1991) and Destroy Erase Improve (1995) both which use the same elements of polyrhythmic cycles, although perhaps less complexly.  Destroy Erase Improve is not as heavy

 

From a Thordendal interview (translated from Swedish) following his solo album in 1997:

“I don't really listen to alot of music. But if I sometime put an album on it's Allan Holdsworth. I think he's a guitarist that has everything. A totally own style, beautiful chords and an incredible soundcontrol. I'm also very interested in sounds and when I heard Holdsworth for the first time I decided that I also should find that sound. I spent every penny on the kind of equipment he uses. When I could afford a Mesa Boogie 50 Caliber Plus I was getting close. But if you're going to play with the same sound as Holdsworth you also have to learn his hitting- and legatotechnic. He uses the whammy bar alot to get tones from below and from above and I like that, it sounds so sad. But the thing I like the most about his playing is that it doesn't sound too much "guitarish". I'm so sick of hearing the old usual pentatonic scales.”

 

Thordendal’s guitar: http://www.tandjent.com/meshforum/showthread.php?t=2305

“It's the world's worst guitar. I totally hate it, but I have to play seven-stringed because it's so powerful to be able to reach a low B note. Earlier, I have been playing on V-guitars and I've been able to reach the highest notes perfectly. On the Ibanez, I often hit the guitar with my hand when I'm playing high notes on the high E-string. I'm always looking for a new seven-stringed guitar that's better, but it's hard to find one with a good whammy bar system.”

 

Jens Kidman on the making of “Chaosphere”: http://www.earpollution.com/may99/profiles/meshuggah/meshuggah.html

“Actually, we wanted Chaosphere to be totally different from Destroy Erase Improve. Destroy Erase Improve was written over a couple of years, Chaosphere was written in three, four, five months. It's intense. Every day, morning to night, writing songs. You have to know what to do with a hard record. There's no crap melodies on Chaosphere. The whole record is a reflection of how everything was made. Everything was new. We hadn't even played any of the songs all the way through before we went into the studio. Except one song, "Sane," that was the only song we played.”

Meshuggah's obvious influence is groundbreaking Los Angeles-based heavy metal band Metallica (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metallica) (compare "New Millennium" with "Master of Puppets" and the wild, Thordendal-esque guitar solo about halfway through "The Thing That Should Not Be").

Another influence (as stated in the above interview by Thordendal) is jazz/rock guitarist Alan Holdsworth (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allan_Holdsworth).  Compare the tone and melodic nature of Holdsworth's "Road Games" and Thordendal's "Missing Time" (from Thordendal's 1997 solo album Sol Niger Within).  From my listening, three distinct Thordendal styles: the tapping style on the solo from "New Millennium,"  the very melodic style on "Missing Time," and the animalistic, merciless wailing exhibited on "Entrapment" and "Rational Gaze."