auto-tune+emotion through technology

The sound of computers singing is a beautiful thing.
Emotion rarely wins in the battle with circuitry, but sometimes the most human of moments are created as a result of those limitations; of that struggle.



Auto-tune is widely looked upon with scorn. As with any musical technique or sound, overuse or at least over-exposure will result in a certain amount of dislike. Couple this with the association of auto-tune with hiphop and r+b, and the lazy critcism that these genres are faced with ['it's just about girls, they're just talking - it's not real music, it's all samples etc. etc. etc.'] and it's a recipe for disapproval from various sub-NME opinion holders.

But when used as an instrument, auto-tune allows the voice to move around in a manner not previously possible. To say that it enables people to hide poor singing, whilst true, is an irrelevance. When used at its optimum, auto-tune is an enabler, not a cover up.



Dancehall artists have embraced auto-tune in a big way.
Whilst this example isn't exactly the most heartfelt, more an ode to fuck, the device is being used as a manipulator, and still contains an incredible human/inhuman ambiguit . Undoubtedly influenced by American r+b, auto-tune almost seems to mesh even better with the Jamaican accent.





I don't want to focus purely on auto-tune, as I feel the same applies to the talkbox and vocoders.



Of course Roger made the talkbox his own. But he is guilty of using this technology to hide what, in all essence, was a not so great voice. Instead, he inspired hundreds of musicians - a whole new quality is added - it is still recognisably a human voice, but at the same time as doing things not possible unaided, it feels as though Roger is fighting against his technology to be heard.

Speaking of which:



words can't describe this.
It's a battle.

- - - - - - - - - -



Listening Post, an installation by artists Ben Rubin and Mark Hansen, and the inspiration for my ramblings, takes live data from various chat rooms on the internet, and translates that into seven different movements of sound and vision. I think it loses something on youtube; I was sat in front of it for a good hour. There was something extremely captivating about this seemingly cold, computer controlled piece. The text is uncensored - somehow the most banal of expressions typed by a 13 year old on the other side of the world is transformed into something genuinely moving. It's not just that the random element and user-inputted data allows this to be a human experience, it is executed extremely well. The constant repetition of internet users is reflected in the structure of the movements.

It is the marriage of technology and human input which captivates me so much.
A particularly rocky relationship, computers seem intent on containing human emotion, but when it breaks through, the cracks and the battle scars are what makes it.