In 1985,
David Byrne recorded Music For The Knee Plays, which was used as an interlude in
Robert Wilson’s epic drama
The Civil Wars. The record consists of twelve pieces of varying length, performed by a
brass ensemble, some of which are accompanied by monologues provided by
Byrne. The music was written for a live performance, and has been recorded here from the stage. To my knowledge, a “studio” recording has never been made.
However, while they were intended to provide a sonic backdrop to
Wilson’s choreography,
Byrne also managed to weave an unrelated narrative into the music itself. The “story” of
The Knee Plays is a series of short
vignettes, observations and social commentaries, and the characters, such as they are, appear sporadically and unnamed. While much of this narrative fluctuates from first and third person, it never really deviates from its central stylistic formula. It cannot, in any meaningful sense, be described as
lyricism. There is no specific
pitch, change in
volume,
rhyme or
expressiveness, and in fact it seems doubtful as to whether the
monologue has any real basis in the music at all. It lacks the melody and
verse/
chorus structure that we have come to expect from pieces of this length (such as
pop songs). However, the spoken element does seem to have some degree of
rhythm. This is quite hard to detect, as it is often at odds or even syncopated against the beat of the music, giving the words a degree of hypnotism. The content, while
non-linear, is clear and understandable.
Byrne’s interest in the minutiae of everyday life prevails, and he talks, in great detail, about car journeys and domestic scenes. However, perhaps most interesting is his fascination with lists. Almost every
monologue has a list of some kind, and some (
I’ve Tried and
In The Future) are nothing but. This, coupled with Byrne’s automaton-like delivery, makes for an interesting effect; it almost feels like you’re listening to your own thoughts. Byrne does nothing fancy, draws no
literary allusions, uses no
metaphors and makes no
puns. Everything is taken at face value, and the subtlety is left to the music.
The music, in total contrast, is rich, vibrant and deep. Inspired by
jazz,
avant garde and
New Orleans’ ragtime,
Byrne uses his talent for layering music on his simplistic
brass band riffs, and creates a texture which manages to be more soulful without displaying any kind of discernable emotion. This unusual paradox pervades the entire album. At times, Byrne has been accused of being alienated and detached. However, here he is certainly expressing something more than an intellectual concept. Perhaps it is the link to
New Orleans’s ragtime (and its association with the
funeral dirge) that gives it this depth. However, only one of the twelve tracks is remotely funereal. I can only surmise that
Byrne feels more comfortable “speaking” through his music than he does in his
monologues.
As a university student,
Byrne studied the
Bauhaus school of design, and this is never more clear in his work than in these compositions. The
Bauhaus stresses the application of
art to practical application. The
functionalism of the discipline can be seen in the clear, defined musical forms that
Byrne employs. There is no musical showmanship, but all the musicians play perfectly. To quote one of
Bauhaus’ founding fathers,
Johannes Itten, “The artist must first be a craftsman”. Byrne has created a durable work which relies not on gimmicks but, due to this theoretical basis, a thoughtful, methodical approach. Also important to
Bauhaus sensibility is the inherent usefulness of the art for its audience. Many
Bauhaus followers go into
architecture, which they see as a happy medium between creative expression and a purpose fulfilled. However, I believe that
Byrne has achieved the same using his own medium. Byrne’s goal was to create music that would supplement another’s
art, but this property seems to apply to other things as well. The understated musicianship means that this can serve as both ambient background music and a piece that can take your full attention. As Byrne himself would later write of another work: “This piece, like a
newspaper, a
magazine, a
home-cooked meal or a strand of
DNA, can be opened and consumed beginning anywhere”. It makes excellent music for
driving,
exercising and even
meditating (the
auto-suggestion of the monologues can produce some very interesting results). This, coupled with its obvious original intent, to be an accompaniment to drama, means that
Byrne has created “utility” music, in the same cast as pioneers such as
Phillip Glass and
Brian Eno (both of whom have had a profound effect on
Byrne‘s artistic direction). In doing so, Byrne has successfully managed to compromise neither his artistic integrity or the
Bauhaus vision.
While this music can most certainly be cast in the
avant-garde genre, it seems to overcome many of the difficulties that this kind of music faces.
Avant-garde can often be so experimental, as with the works of the
French composer
Erik Satie, that it can suffer through being either tedious through lack of dynamism or jarring through lack of melody. However, while
The Knee Plays certainly breaks new ground, it conforms to some fundamental musical sensibilities, such as consistent
rhythm,
triad chords and largely
major notes. All the instruments in the ensemble are
harmonious and
tuned together (rarer than one might imagine in
avant-garde), which means that one doesn’t have to be intellectually interested in it to enjoy it. Surprisingly, the music is even good to dance to (an avenue of research I won’t discuss in too much detail here). As the album progresses, you can feel
Byrne’s confidence grow, and he relaxes. Thus, the music becomes more
jazzy and whimsical.
Byrne even allows odd traces of humour and
irony to enter his monologue and what may have been quite a serious, perhaps even morbid piece, becomes zesty and fun. It is on the final track,
In The Future, where he truly shines. The monologue simply consists of statements preceded by the phrase, “In the future”, but
Byrne’s wit makes the formula a winning one. Such insights as “water will be expensive” and “there will be many wars, going on everywhere” seem even more apt today.
Of course, like any creative work, Music For The Knee Plays is not without its flaws. One of the tracks on side two,
Winter, suffers from some of the problems with dynamics outlined in the previous paragraph. It lacks the urgency and wit that defines the record, and seems oddly out of place. However, despite this one dip in quality, the album maintains a high standard throughout, and the nature of the compositions renders them timeless. Despite it being almost two decades old, this collection could well have been written yesterday, or indeed fifty years ago. It is a credit to
Byrne‘s creativity that this work exists not within any particular movement, and stands apart.
Tree (Today Is An Important Occasion)
In The Upper Room
The Sound of business
Social Studies (The Gift Of Sound)
Where The Sun Never Goes Down
Theadora Is Dozing
Admiral Perry
I Bid You Goodnight
I've Tried (Things to Do)
Winter
Jungle Book
In The Future