Music: A Subversive History by Ted Gioia

Music: A Subversive History Reviews

• 
  Maria

  I am putting this down for the moment, the patronizing tone was too annoying. I might return to it at some point though, because he does talk about interesting stuff.
• 
  Kendra

  Gioia notes early in this book that he's been writing it for 25 years. That shows: his conception of how music history is taught and written about and discussed is about 25 years out-of-date, and his work in this book suffers badly from it. The book would have been a powerful call to action and change two decades ago, but today, with hundreds of fantastic, progressive, new, and radically different approaches to music historiography in practice, both for "art" and "pop" musics, Gioia's work is out of touch, and the book's claims come far too late for it to be relevant or useful.
• 
  Alex MacMillan

  This global survey of the history of music is a hit-or-miss affair, as many chapters, particularly during the prehistoric and medieval eras, either drag or are too repetitive. He overuses cliched phrases such as "the present ethos" and "at this juncture" to the point of aggravation. The author's editor should have urged him to consolidate the first half's key points into fewer chapters, especially as his postmodern speculations about the subversive undertones of premodern music are overly reliant upon a spotty historical record. The book picks up in the second half, but never reaches the same level of insight of other books that I've read about music with similar themes, such as
  In Praise of Commercial Culture,
  Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! and
  A Renegade History of the United States.
• 
  James Klagge

  An interesting read. Offers a history of music from the start (hunter-gatherers) to streaming. Although it examines a few non-Western traditions, it is mostly Western music. The "subversive history" proposes that musical innovation always comes from the outsiders and then eventually gets accommodated. Thus, the history of music is a sort of pendulum. While this is painting with very broad strokes, it makes for an interesting viewpoint. It does feel like the details are sometimes cherry-picked to fit the theory, but that is probably unavoidable if one is committed to a theory.
  The author is very knowledgeable, and the real interest of the book is in the obscure musicians or historical details known to the author. My favorite chapter was the last one, on the effects of modern technology on music.
  Being a scholar myself (of Wittgenstein, not of music) it is only appropriate that I nit-pick a bit:
  -In telling stories about musicians, it is only natural that the author wants to fill out the stories with interesting details. But this leads the author to use ancient biographical sources or anecdotes that are either questionable or known to be apocryphal. (While I admire the author for using endnotes to give sources, he doesn't even give sources for these stories. I'm guessing they come from places like
  The lives and opinions of eminent philosophers by Diogenes Laertius. The extensive stories related about Pythagoras and Empedocles struck me as especially doubtful.) I guess this is the danger of trying to take scholarship to the people.
  -The author discusses how singers can hide messages in their songs that are known to insiders but disguised to outsiders--like spirituals ostensibly recalling the Israelites' escape from Egypt but also calling for their own liberation from slavery, or sexual innuendo. The author says (p. 159 & 186) that "Henry Louis Gates introduced the term 'signifying' to encompass this practice..." That's just silly. Gates may have "introduced" the term into the scholarly discussion, but it has been a well-known term for at least decades. The Signifying Monkey is a stock character in African-American folktales, and Sonny Boy Williamson II sang about "signifying" in "Don't Start Me to Talkin'" (1955).
  -The author gives the background for Christmas songs being called Christmas "carols" (p. 191). It is plausible and interesting, but I wonder how he resisted mentioning Bob Dylan's "legendary" account of the origin of the term in his XM Theme Time radio show about "Christmas and New Years." I think Bob made it up out of whole cloth!
  -The author has justifiably critical things to say about Steven Pinker, who is NOT a philosopher (as claimed on p. 279) but a psychologist (as claimed on p. 469); and whose name is "Steven" (as claimed on p. 279), NOT "Stephen" (as claimed on p. 469).
  -I was bothered by his discussion of "rock" music as it emerged as distinct from "rock-n-roll." Certainly there was no "rock" in the '50's, and it had emerged by the '70's. But when, more specifically? The author claims (p. 381) "By 1960, rock had taken over the commercial music business." That seemed awfully implausible. I would have put the emergence of "rock" more like the mid-'60's. He mentions both "Revolver," by the Beatles, and the Velvet Underground on p. 391, Henrdix's "Are You Experienced" (p. 362) and Dylan's "Like a Rolling Stone" (p. 363), and I would connect them with the start of "rock"--i.e., 1965-66.
  -The author has an interesting chapter ("The Sacrificial Ritual") about the early death of rock stars and the impact on their music, but this way of putting it just didn't make sense (p. 405): "Music stars at this exulted level may even see their recordings reach a new peak of popularity in the week following their demise." But...they are not around to "see" anything following their demise!
  -The author's brief discussion (p. 407) of the cathartic effect of some music, with an allusion to Aristotle, would have been a good place for a footnote to my op-ed “Violent media may have a cathartic role in healthy lives,” Roanoke Times, May 7, 1999, posted on my webpage.
  -I enjoyed the ways the author found to connect music with mundane aspects of life, like exercise. He says (p. 459) "synching the tempo of a music playlist with an athlete's heartbeat can improve stamina, speed and performance." My own experience with running is that synching the beat of the music with my stride is much more visceral. A powerful song that matches or is slightly faster than my stride is incredibly motivating. Of course, it all depends on your stride, but for me U2's "Beautiful Day" is perfect.
  -I would have enjoyed some discussion of the role, experience and aesthetics of listening to music. For example, the possession of music (records, tapes, cd's, downloads) is less than a century old, and quickly passing. I would need a U-Haul to move all my records/cd's (and books), while my son could move all his in his pocket. I devote notable space in my house to books and music, while that's never a consideration in anyone's mind on "House Hunters." (For more on this see my op-ed “Me and my books,” Roanoke Times, September 4, 2014, posted on my webpage.). When I was a teenager and into my twenties I set aside time to listen to music. Even now I do, though less so. Mostly now music is part of multi-tasking--listening to streaming while you work, etc. I am not a multi-tasker. Connected with both the previous points about space for music and time for music, there is the matter of music-listening technology. Along with my space for records and cd's I have a "stereo" with a record-player, cd-player, amplifier and speakers. I am not high-end, but anyway medium-end. I care about how the music sounds. What does it mean for music that that is now rare? Will sound technology ever matter any more? Does it matter whether it matters? (OK, I'm a philosopher...)
  In sum, I'm glad I read the book, and found lots to enjoy. But I think I'll search out something by the author that is more narrowly focussed, such as
  Delta Blues: The Life and Times of the Mississippi Masters Who Revolutionized American Music.
• 
  J Earl

  Music: A Subversive History by Ted Gioia started out by surprising me and ended up by blowing me away. Not what I had expected, as in: much more than I expected.
  
  I love to read music histories. Most tend to be about a specific genre, maybe about an era, sometimes about an instrument. The few I have read that are a history of music as a whole still tend to be selective with what is considered music (or at least what they deem worthy of inclusion) and/or limited by a broad style (western vs eastern; tonal vs atonal). This book not only covers all of these but goes so far as to start with the Big Bang. Yes, that Big Bang.
  
  The breadth of topics covered through the portal of music and musicality is breathtaking. From prehistoric ideas of how music might have been used through various institutional attempts to control and limit music to the idea of music as primarily entertainment divorced from any practical purpose, Gioia cuts a wide path through not just music history but human history.
  
  He manages to not only cover all of this information but make some arguments for how music has been pivotal in history itself and even some insight into specific musicians (Beethoven, Parker, etc). I think because of the wide sweep through history this book will appeal to a wide range of readers, though admittedly certain sections may be more appealing than others. For scholars in various disciplines this may well indicate how music (broadly defined) might be incorporated into future research. For casual readers I think Gioia has managed to not get bogged down in any one area or time so that even if your primary interest might be a specific time the rest of the book will still interest you. And the early points he makes serve quite often as part of the foundation for later discussions in the book, so reading every section, even if not your main interest area, is highly recommended.
  
  While acknowledging that there will no doubt be some people who don't want this exhaustive or comprehensive history of music, I can't really think of any particular group of readers to whom I wouldn't recommend the book.
  
  Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.
• 
  Jason Friedlander

  Gioia’s story of (mostly western) music’s subversive power is interesting and entertaining to follow, though I realized halfway through that my engagement with it was inversely related to how much I knew about the period or artists brought up. At the end of the day it’s another grand narrative more intriguing read between the covers than within a broader context, but still one worth seriously considering.
• 
  Joachim Stoop

  It was different and a bit less engaging than I expected
• 
  Gus Weyandt

  Gioia’s history of music uniquely maps the age-old battle between artists and power structures. Comprehensive and thought-provoking, “Music: A Subversive History” challenges its readers to rethink musical innovation, not just as simple entertainment or high art, but as a social and political force with immense ability to alter and uproot lives as well as entire societies. This is a must-read for any music OR history buff: It will surely expand your understanding of music beyond the constraints of the algorithms and records that mark the average person’s everyday relationship with human kind’s most provocative and powerful art form .
• 
  Nick

  Not that I really needed to read another history of music this year, but this one may have been the best of the lot. It's because it doesn't just cover the history of popular music, but all music, from pre-history until the modern day. Hearing about the rebels of music, and how music invades almost every part of our lives was right up my alley.
  
  Gioia shows how music has always been a tool of subversion - of sex and violence, trance and ritual. Across time there has been a continual process of innovation by the outsiders of society that is then followed by legitimisation from the mainstream, a cycle that has been happening long before more recent examples like punk and hip-hop came about.
  
  It's meticulously researched, persuasively written, and most importantly - it's never boring!
• 
  Gaili Schoen

  Some fascinating information here. Shocking to hear that the US spends more on military bands than it does on the National Endowment for the Arts. It seems that the American government believes that music is best suited to ramp up our military! I appreciated that women in music history were given if not equal time, they were at least given most of their due. Many interesting anecdotes and the central argument that it is rebellion and outsiders that give rise to the most innovative music is plausible. The author speaks about the magic of music to affect us deeply and to transform lives and cultures. This book could have been much shorter as the author repeats himself, restating the same points in different ways over and over again. And if he maintained a less academic tone, he could make his book much more accessible to music lovers. The author would have benefitted from a more proactive editor!
• 
  molosovsky

  Everyone interested in music should at least give this one a try.
  Gioia has a holistic view, and is not ›only‹ concerned with musical techniques, styles and fashions, but with anthropological, social and political aspects.
  Extremely valuable how he regards themes that rarely find their way into a non-fiction book about art, especially music, about all the ›dark‹ or ›raunchy‹ powers that music possesses: sex, violence, social unrest, defiance, magic, altered states of mind.
  Gioia is a fine storyteller so that this book entertains like a novel about music and humans (individuals and societies) through the last 4000 years. Not experimental, but straightforward, never afraid to speculate or ask questions. Recommended for everyone interested in music, from layman to expert.
  
  Listend to audiobook (very good performed by Jamie Rennell except for some french pronounciations … I think) but will also buy hardcopy for notes and further study.
  
  Also: one of the books I would LOVE to translate into German if I had the time and/or energy.
• 
  Amy Lively

  3.5 stars. I will be honest that I had to skim chunks of this book, mostly in the first half, because I just am not interested in the music of ancient history. I also thought the last two chapters were lacking in analysis and were more a lament about music in the digital age. However, the parts I liked I liked a lot, which was made all the more apparent to me when I saw how many notes I had taken & highlights I had by the time I was done.
  
  I found the notion of approaching music history from the “outsider”/subversive point of view an interesting one (which is also why I had some trouble with the last two chapters— they didn’t seem to fit his overall thesis.) Our best music seems to come from the writers who are using their platform to be heard when they aren’t feeling heard in any other way. Then it becomes mainstream (which usually means white people like it) and it isn’t subversive anymore. And then the cycle begins all over again.
• 
  Barry Hammond

  Ted Gioia has written nothing less than an alternative history of music. His researches have revealed that music is not something that is taught in schools or academies or halls of higher learning. It is always something started by outsiders, immigrants, and the outcasts of societies, which gradually becomes assimilated by the norm. It has always been in a constant state of revolution and is usually mistrusted by any authority until they gradually accept it and use it for their own purposes. It is also not based in logic and mathematics (though it contains those elements) but has a magic, ritual and superstitious aspect that is rarely acknowledged and is closely associated with sex and violence. Gaps in its history tend to cover up the places where it has been co-opted by authority. Anyone with an interest in music or music history will find this a most enlightening text. - BH.
• 
  Paddy

  First off, the title of the book may more accurately read as a subversive history of WESTERN music. It takes a non-westerner to recognize this simple fact out of the gate.
  
  However, the author has done a wonderful job of presenting music as a subversive force through the ages, even as it paradoxically serves as a force to unite communities. Music’s association with sex and violence from times immemorial serve as the backdrop for the entirely of the book. The author is not wrong with taking this position as we learn from the examples he provides. The transformation of societies through the emergence of new musical styles that start either from the bottom strata of society - slaves,peasants - or the outer edges of normal society - punk, hip-hop - inform us about recurring patterns that have played out in living memory for most of us.
  
  The author bemoans the current state of music ( auditory cheesecake) while warning us about the dehumanization of music through technology and AI, forces that are atomizing society to a point where existence is more and more a solitary affair and less a communal experience.
  
  Even though the author clarifies that this book is about musical history, it really is more about the sociology of music. To that end, his omission of the cult-like following for the Grateful Dead, with its long tail now in its 25th year after the passing of Jerry Garcia, King of the Dead Heads, is puzzling. He also mostly ignores the popular music of the aughts and the current decade, which I don’t blame him for.
  
  As a performing musician for several decades, I can confess to the lack of inspiration in the current pantheon of musical heroes. Blame it on my age, but I find myself drawn more to remasters and reinterpretations of jazz and rock standards to contemporary jazz or rock. Nostalgia reigns supreme. I pay hundreds of dollars to see classic rock bands in their fifth or sixth “farewell” concert but would not consider paying a small door charge for an emerging band.
  
  My big question on the future of music is also one he leaves us contemplating at the end of the book: what new musical genre can possibly emerge now that will breathe life into the comatose industry ? He suggests that a new style will emerge from technology with the assistance of AI. I see it happening and am not sure what that’s going to sound like. There is no substitute to real music performed by a real musician to make a genuine emotional connection with the audience. However, AI is replacing humans in many aspects of life. Musicians won’t be spared either.
• 
  Ted Burke

  Fascinating read, Goia does us the favor of skipping the technical comparatives and assorted arcana that interest tech heads and deep nerds and instead discusses, in plain language, the evolution of music in social, philosophical and spiritual context, revealing the need to make music as a means to give direct and immediate expression of human experience . He covers a lot of material here, does a fine job displaying the various arguments over the use and misuse of music has been, and is very cogent and persuasive as to how various music forms, especially song, developed over time , changing condition, and need to adapt . Some of his conclusions seem a little pat--I am suspect these days of sweeping pronouncements about unbelievable large things such as the history of music--but Goia does make you appreciate the miracle of being able to make music .
• 
  June

  Writing about music can be very difficult indeed--explaining with words what really is best heard with one's own ears. The cultural history of music is equally as complex, with every piece having a wide array of sources and influences, as well as some coincidental resemblances.
  
  Ted Gioia has done well at emphasizing the interconnected nature of music as it relates to our experience as humans. The reader gains a kind of bird's-eye-view of why and how we make music, as well as lots of interesting facts that will impress your friends or trivia night competitors.
• 
  Gonzalo

  Cuando Hegel expresó su idea en torno a la dialéctica, tomó conceptos de otros muchos pensadores, para llegar a formular una versión más convincente, que tendría notable impacto en lo sucesivo. La gran novedad que aportó era la de la inestabilidad que toda situación conlleva, la contradicción interna que termina por abrir grietas que aprovechan nuevas ideas para consolidarse como paradigmas y avanzar así en un proceso continuo.
  
   
  
  Este poderoso concepto fue adoptado por todo tipo de filósofos y pensadores para aplicarlo a los más diversos campos. Desde luego, el más celebrado es el caso de Engels y Marx, pero también desde posiciones ideológicas opuestas, Schumpeter reivindicó la figura del empresario como destructor del orden económico establecido, tomando los riesgos precisos para modificar la realidad en un continuo esfuerzo creador que garantiza la pervivencia del capitalismo.
  
   
  
  Fuera del campo social, también se ha utilizado con notable acierto para explicar la evolución de ideas artísticas. Así, el realismo pronto cedió paso a corrientes más subjetivas, como el impresionismo, y éste cedió ante corrientes basadas en el expresionismo, hasta romper en todas las vanguardias concebibles.
  
   
  
  Ted Gioia es un reputado divulgador de la historia de la música, siempre desde una perspectiva social y cultural, con obras sobre las canciones de trabajo, el jazz o el blues. En esta ocasión, nos presenta La música. Una Historia subversiva (Editorial Turner, 2020, traducida por Mariano Peyrou, una auténtica autoridad en esta materia) en la que trata de exponer una historia de la música, desde el Big Bang (literalmente) hasta nuestros días, pero explicando esta evolución como un proceso de rebeldía y subversión.
  
   
  
  Sin duda, la idea es atractiva y, a la vista de las corrientes musicales de los últimos dos siglos, probablemente bastante acertada. Gioia sostiene que todos los cambios musicales surgen de fuera hacia dentro y de abajo hacia arriba. Es decir, los estilos que se imponen son los originarios de las clases sociales más desfavorecidas y los más opuestos al consenso de una época.
  
  La música del siglo XX deriva en gran medida de la que trajeron los esclavos negros en sus terribles viajes hacia el Nuevo Mundo. Unos viajes en los que la música vocal era apenas la única pervivencia cultural que podían llevar consigo, junto a algunas de sus narraciones orales y creencias. La unión de estas formas musicales con las tradiciones clásicas que, a su vez, habían llevado los inmigrantes blancos, muchos de ellos casi tan pobres y miserables como los de color, creó un nuevo lenguaje musical, claramente opuesto a cuanto de respetable podía escucharse en los refinados salones de baile. Pero, con el correr de los años, estas nuevas corrientes, que se irían segregando en distintos estilos como el blues o el jazz, terminarían por ser acogidas como propias por multitud de jóvenes deseosos de expresar su rechazo al mundo adulto mediante el consumo de una música que cuestionaba todo cuanto las convenciones de la época pregonaba.
  
   
  
  Nació así el rock and roll que evolucionaría al incorporar otras sensibilidades del Viejo Continente a través de la revisión que de la tradición americana hicieron los grupos ingleses en los años sesenta. Asumida ya la importancia del fenómeno, este nuevo lenguaje pareció periclitarse hasta la explosión punk que nuevamente supuso la creación de un nuevo paradigma desde los márgenes de la sociedad.
  
   
  
  Y, efectivamente, en todos estos movimientos la subversión parece hallarse implícita. Los jóvenes de los años cincuenta, los del setenta y siete, buscaban derribar un orden, no solo querían hacer oír su sonido, pretendían suprimir el de sus padres, escandalizarles creando un nuevo mundo, acorde a sus valores y principios, querían gritarles alto y claro, tal y como hacía Bob Dylan, que se apartaran de la nueva carretera si no eran capaces de echar una mano, a sabiendas de que no lo eran.
  
   
  
  Sin embargo, extender esta idea de la subversión como fuerza motriz de la música parece un esfuerzo que va más allá de la realidad. Para empezar, desconocemos prácticamente todo sobre cómo era la música en tiempos prehistóricos, en el Neolítico o en las primeras civilizaciones en torno al Medio Oriente. Forzar los pocos descubrimientos arqueológicos para acomodarlos a una teoría tan compleja como la que sostiene Gioia resulta excesivo y hace perder veracidad al relato.
  
   
  
  Por otro lado, el hecho de que muchos compositores sean hoy vistos como ancianos venerables pero que, en su día, fueran personas conflictivas, al margen de las convenciones, no quiere decir necesariamente que con sus obras quisieran subvertir el orden social. Más aún, esa idea de subversión social parece más propia de nuestros días que de otras épocas. Un trovador medieval o un monje benedictino, al igual que Mozart o Smetana, no pretendían cambiar las estructuras sociales de su tiempo, no al menos a través de su música, tal vez les bastaba con poder vivir de su arte. Es solo en épocas más recientes cuando la idea del cambio social parece generalizarse. Movimientos como la Ilustración pudieron crear un caldo de cultivo, pero ni el sentimiento surgió de inmediato ni puede rastrearse con anterioridad en el sentido que Gioia pretende darle.
  
       
  
  El mismo autor parece no estar muy convencido de sus propios presupuestos cuando se esfuerza de continuo en recopilar las pruebas a favor de su tesis. Pero, dejando al lado este asunto que considero algo forzado, el libro se lee como una muy interesante historia social de la música, apta para cualquier persona que tenga un mínimo interés en esta materia.
  
   
  
  El tono adoptado por el autor es ameno y rehúye cualquier tipo de explicación técnica que espante a quienes no tengan conocimiento o se sientan asustados por una tan larga y polvorienta historia. Al contrario, las explicaciones son claras e ilustran cómo la música responde a la realidad de su tiempo, cómo se adapta a éste (tal vez no al revés, como pretende explicar la obra) y cómo evoluciona de una manera coherente.
  
   
  
  Gioia explica las características de cada época, no desde un punto de vista estilístico, sino social e histórico, describe cómo confronta con la anterior y cómo se desfigura para dejar paso a la siguiente. Vista así, despojada de la intención primigenia del autor, se convierte en un texto original y que aporta muchísima información sobre lo que la música ha venido representando para nuestra cultura y porqué sigue siendo un lenguaje tan poderoso al que no renuncian las corrientes más vanguardistas y revolucionarias, al tiempo que es también símbolo de conservadurismo y clasismo.  
  
   
  
  El fascinante viaje de Gioia comienza con el primer sonido, el de una explosión que dio origen al cosmos y que aún resuena en el espacio, un acorde infinito. Así que el sonido nos acompaña desde mucho antes de que la vida fuera concebible. Pero cuando ésta aún no era humana, los animales también empleaban el sonido, su propia música, con los fines más diversos. Bien para asustar o ahuyentar a depredadores, bien para cortejar y atraer parejas. Y en este momento, aparece por primera vez una dicotomía en la música que perdura hasta nuestros días. Las listas de éxitos siguen a día de hoy repletas de canciones sobre el amor, esas tontas canciones de amor, que sirven para el cortejo, para la expresión de sentimientos que, de otro modo, resultarían excesivamente almibarados. Pero también la música es desorden y amenaza, son los tambores que marcan el ritmo de los ejércitos y los pífanos los que acompañan a las tropas en los asaltos y contiendas. Es la música la que se enarbola para desafiar a la generación anterior, sea con el rap, el trap o el ragtime.
  
   
  
  Poco podemos saber sobre cómo sonaba la música en la Antigüedad, pero sí que podemos marcar una fecha como clave en el proceso de teorización de este arte. Pitágoras determinó gran parte de lo que aún hoy seguimos considerando como teoría musical al establecer de manera matemática los intervalos entre notas, creando así esa escala que los niños recitan en el jardín de infancia. Pero Gioia ve en este punto el intento de aplastar la ambigüedad de la música que llegaba a Grecia de regiones alejadas, del África interior, de la Mesopotamia. Así, mediante la inserción de trastes en los instrumentos de cuerda pueden eliminarse esas molestas notas intermedias, hasta el punto de poder vivir como si no existieran, como si la música fuera la expresión de un orden perfecto.
  
   
  
  Este proceso de asimilación y domesticación también se encuentra en otros muchos elementos relacionados con la música. Por ejemplo, multitud de danzas tradicionales europeas se basan en el baile circular, más o menos organizado y modulado, no siendo otra cosa que la versión suavizada de las danzas tribales africanas, esos corros que también vieron surgir el jazz o ese caos de la música religiosa góspel, tan espontánea como alejada de una férrea cantata barroca, pero respondiendo a un mismo impulso.
  
   
  
  Es a lo largo del siglo XIX cuando poco a poco el punto de gravedad de las corrientes musicales más populares, las que derivarán en lo que hoy entendemos como música moderna, se apoyarán en las canciones que narraban violentos crímenes, vidas de forajidos y cuatreros, de perseguidos y fuera de la Ley. Poco a poco, ese centro de gravedad se aleja de las salas sinfónicas y se va aposentando en las clases más bajas, en estilos más básicos y despreciables. Así, surge el jazz y el blues, pero también la samba, el tango, estilos que se impondrán, y serán asumidos por las clases altas tratando siempre de dominarlo y reconducirlo, de abortar su carácter subversivo.
  
   
  
  Y este cambio, la popularización de géneros menos elitistas, es casi exclusivo de la música. En otras artes, como la escultura o la pintura, no se produce un fenómeno similar dado que el artista depende enormemente de un pequeño número de coleccionistas, instituciones públicas, ricos magnates. La música sin embargo, solo precisa de unos baratos instrumentos, se puede reproducir en cualquier lugar, se distribuye mediante partituras de muy bajo coste, puede incluso memorizarse, y todo se hará aún más sencillo con la llegada del gramófono, de las radios.
  
   
  
  El proceso de independización de los mecenas y la consiguiente entrega al público general, cuanto más amplio mejor, se consolida a lo largo del siglo XVIII. Ya no es la Iglesia o la Corte la que puede dar de comer a los músicos. Estos estrenan sus obras en teatros públicos, se desarrolla la ópera, los oratorios, la música de cámara. La venta de partituras permite una cierta independencia económica a autores como Mozart o Beethoven. Y las obras de los compositores del siglo XIX conjugarán las grandes sinfonías, con la más introspectiva música, la que se puede tocar en el salón de una casa, la que se convertirá en una muestra de prestigio social. Tener hijas que amenicen con sonatas o mazurcas las reuniones de sus padres será una prueba más del éxito social, y una bendición para los profesores de música, los editores y los afinadores de pianos.
  
   
  
  Y el proceso de asimilación, domesticación o como queramos llamarlo se extiende por toda la historia de la música. Así, las poesías más eróticas y sugerentes del pasado semítico fueron incorporadas al Cantar de los Cantares y atribuidas a Salomón, probablemente con el propósito de restarles contenido sexual y poder referirlas a una relación con la divinidad. Otro tanto pasaría con los juglares medievales que crearon un estilo y temática de la que aún compartimos muchos rasgos y que, pese a sus humildes orígenes, pronto fue asumida por la corte y nobleza, con reputados imitadores más refinados y sumisos.
  
  Y así, el relato de Gioia va desgranando sus episodios hasta llegar a nuestros días, a la reproducción por streaming, a la caída de ventas y la muerte de formatos como el LP por la explosión de un boom de inmediatez en el que los diversos estilos se influencian entre sí y donde ya poco parece poder clasificarse de manera sencilla dentro de una categoría. Porque, aunque hay una teoría que asegura que a partir de los cuarenta años ya no hay nueva música que realmente nos pueda atraer, lo cierto es que siempre habrá nuevas generaciones que la abracen como una forma de identificación, como un rechazo a sus padres, como un vehículo de exhibición y de orgullo y, por tanto, la música siempre seguirá existiendo como elemento cohesionador y diferenciador frente al otro, ese al que no le gusta lo que yo escucho, el que no entiende su ritmo, su letra, el que está fuera del código, del mundo que me importa.
  
  Y aunque no sea cierto que la Historia siempre termina por repetirse, en lo que respecta a la música, sí podemos saber que terminará del mismo modo en que comenzó. Sin duda, la última página del mundo, tras un apocalipsis, será el último acorde en el que aún seguirán percibiéndose en los oídos celestiales los armónicos del acorde infinito.
  
   
• 
  Frodo

  What an education on the history of music: Is music sound or notes? Noise or precisely planned?
  From Sappho and Pythagoras to Jazz and Blues to the Beatles and Rock to Personics and Electronic Dance Music (EDM), Gioia paints dazzling picture of the history of music. When music is dear to you, you will find this book a tour de force.
• 
  Fakekitten

  I didn't enjoy the book very much at first, because it smells like what a middle-aged, middle-class white male who liked jazz would think music history would look like.
  
  He shows very limited non-Western musical elements, and still inevitably falls into the narrative of Western music-centric. (It's kind of like how Han Chinese write Chinese music history lol.)
  
  On this summer road trip, we went back home to visit grandma. As a Buyi(布依） growing up in an ethnic minority autonomous region, I didn't think my grandmother's music was anything special. The songs sound simple, the rhythm is monotonous, and the lyrics are almost unintelligible.
  
  Folk songs exist in one form in the inherent impression of mainstream media and the public (such as Yunnan mountain songs), that is, bold and flirtatious minor. On Bilibili (a video website ) you can search for the key words of “山歌”, and you will find many low-cost music videos and derivative spoof videos.
  
  The music my grandma sings and records herself sounds too rough, often with loud vocals and background sounds, and starts and ends in a straightforward way. I wonder why she didn't just buy music that someone else recorded on the market? At weekend fairs in small cities, it is not difficult to find recordings (usually personal or small studios) that look like "老司机带带我" on Bilibili.
  
  "Confucius can read, but he can't sing." This is what my grandmother said to us before she showed me her recorded mountain songs. My grandmother is illiterate. This sentence really applies to her.
  
  What is music? What is music to my grandma? In this book, he commented on the early music as follows: "For people without semiconductors and spaceships, music is their technology... songs are cloud storage, which preserves the history, tradition and survival skills of the community."
  
  When she showed us the music she recorded, she was excited to explain the lyrics, some of which are about the history of the Three Kingdoms period,some are praying to nature for more children and more blessings.
  
  I finally realized that music has another function besides entertainment for Grandma who has never received education. Music carries desire and emotion, and it is also the education method of history, literature, and even the whole ethnic group.
  
  In the era of tight discourse power, music is also the voice channel of marginalized groups. In the era of apartheid, black music is a bullet that can pierce the standardized music of white people. That is to say, according to the education, the blues is in the form of 12 bars, but black artists usually make the chorus last 11 or 13 bars, and even include incomplete bars and free notes.
  
  Like rock music and rap music in the future, blues became part of the commercial music industry. From record companies to Internet companies, music has always been tried to incorporate and utilize, but has always jumped out. Just as everyone is beginning to fear that AI will replace human creation, and fear algorithms will feed us taste, music has some qualities that resist this "smooth age", that we can't put words to music, we can't really discipline the form of music.
  
  As non-music creators and ordinary listeners, are we "helpless" with music? In the final non-declaration on music in his book, he said: "The audience is never passive, they always use music." We share music in social medias, we listen to music with our lovers, and we try to reproduce music with vision and words, which is another expression of music. We connect other senses through hearing, narrow the distance and space, and realize the interaction of love, vulnerability and strength. At this moment, our destination is the same.
  
  After returning to Shanghai,we once had dinner with an Indonesian American. He mentioned that his grandfather left a ballad to his descendants, saying that it could lead them to find their hometown. He always felt that this was his grandfather's nonsense until he returned home once and really found the location of his ancestral house through this song. “曲径通幽处"（A winding path leads to a secluded place）. In many cases, human ideologies may be different, but music can always have magic power to make us “殊途同归”（go the same way）.
• 
  John McClester

  Well, I finally finished "Music: A Subversive History" by Ted Gioia, whose 514 pages took me a while, not because the book wasn't fascinating, but like Leonard Cohen said, I like to take things slow.
  
  For the reader who wants to cut right to the chase (whatever that might be), Gioia provides several guides. First, the book is arranged chronologically from the singing and chanting that accompanied paleolithic cave painting (p.29), through the divergent views of Empedocles and Pythagorus on the nature of music (p.48-55), to Beethoven's being deemed “a volatile ousider” (p.236), to contemporary Electric Dance Music as a re-creation of “the ecstatic trance rituals of music's earliest origins” (p.450). This structure allows readers to easily skip to the era and/or genre that interests them, without having to plow through material they would just as soon avoid. Second, Gioia concludes his work with an “Epilogue” consisting of forty summary statements that outline his argument that music's history is a subversive one, e.g. “Music is always more than notes. It is made out of sounds. Confusing these two is not a small matter.” (p.466).
  
  The third guide is the book's principal premise: “... a four-thousand-year history of disruptors and insurgents creating musical revolutions...” (p.2) which is reiterated throughout the different historical moments and musical styles. Readers working front to back, page-by-page through the book may find this somewhat repetitive, but readers dropping in on favorite topics or jumping around to fill in blank spots in their music history will not miss out on the gist of Gioia's argument.
  
  One of Ted Gioia's most interserting observations is chapter 24, “The Origins of Country Music in the Neolithic Era,” where he notes:
  
  “Country music still adheres to the ethos of settled life that entered human society with cultivating and herding – in sharp contrast to the nomadic imperative of hunting and gathering societies. You couldn't wander very far if you wanted to raise a crop while breeding livestock. Maybe that's why country songs still celebrate static lives, sticking with your job 9-to-5, even if it's lousy, and standing by your good-for-nothing man, even if he's worse. Blues songs are different. They deal with ramblers leaving on the next train and evading the hellhound on their trail, but that's not country music. In country, you endure and abide, make the payment on the dented pickup truck, and you go back to that same sad bar you went to last week, last month, last year.” (p.371)
  
  Due primarily to its historical range, "Music: A Subversive History" is not a casual read. However, readers will be rewarded by Ted Gioia's hospitable prose, informative specifics, and broad, passionate intelligence.
• 
  Hugo Villarreal

  Leer a Ted Gioia es siempre estimulante y este ambicioso libro que hoy recomiendo, lo es mucho más, pues si antes disfrutaba desentrañando las claves de un género tan evasivo como el jazz, dónde el autor es considerado uno de sus más prestigiosos críticos (Recomiendo los libros “Como escuchar Jazz” y la monumental “La historia del Jazz”). Ahora, lo ha sido desentrañando (y la referencia a entrañas no es gratuita), las grandes verdades a las que ha llegado el autor, a través de años de estudio e investigación para libros previos, sobre aquello que casi siempre se ha querido ocultar acerca de la Música. Su condición de fuerza de creación, destrucción y transformación social (política). Desde los orígenes de la humanidad, aquel hombre de las cavernas, que empieza a comprender y a utilizar aquella fuerza, como herramienta de supervivencia; hasta nuestros días de consumo por streaming personalizado, donde los antiguos artistas-visionarios-chamanes, son hoy llamados como “proveedores de contenidos”. La música seguirá ahí, llevando su poder de encantamiento y transformación constante. Sino basta con asistir a un festival o concierto, para lograr captar la mística que despierta en su público, un artista y su instrumento, que pone el cuerpo y alma sobre el escenario. Un libro fascinante por la temática abordada, por esa visión crítica y heterodoxa (esa supuesta distinción entre alta y baja cultura), por la celebración a aquellos marginados e innovadores musicales de todos los tiempos (que luego serán encumbrados, reverenciados, o sea legitimados), también, por lo inteligente de su prosa, por la cantidad de referencias, históricas, antropológicas, científicas y filosóficas, que hacen que cada capítulo -que avanza cronológicamente- se disfrute y motive al lector a indagar más en algún tópico o tal vez género musical favorito.
• 
  Kumail Akbar

  “When dealing with music, the personal is the political, and always has been.” This is what Gioia wanted to show with this work, and has done an excellent job doing so. As I am not well versed in the history of music, I am unable to comment on the accuracy of his claims nor evaluate them with any semblance of objectivity, but as a coherent narrative the argument he presents – that musical innovation happens ‘from the bottom up and the outside in’ sounds very believable. He argues that the history of music mirrors the history of other human social ideas, that is musical styles emerge in contrast to and in antagonism to prevailing trends, these are then adopted by larger musical institutions and thus become the norm, only to be replaced or re-energized by another style emerging in contrast to the now established one. “On the one hand we encounter the music of order and discipline, aspiring to the perfection of mathematics and aligned with institutional prerogatives. On the other, we find music of intense feelings, frequently associated with magic or trance states, and resistant to control from above.” And yet the former cannot exist without the latter. “The intense songs of outsiders and various marginalized groups possess power, and that power can’t be ignored.” What seems blasphemous in its early stages gets adopted by the church with the passage of time. A relatively credible argument, backed by volumes of data written in thoroughly engaging style makes this a thoroughly enjoyable read.
  
  Rating: 5/5
• 
  Daniel Ágreda Sánchez

  El autor se presenta a sí mismo como un iconoclasta de la historia musical que ha descubierto un “punto de vista otro” sobre la música… pero solo describe “otro punto de vista”. Y esa diferencia lo es todo en contra de este texto.
  
  El único aporte interesante aquí es aquel sobre roles de género y géneros musicales; la forma en que la música ha sido usada en la mayoría de culturas para ordenar la sociedad. Tampoco es la gran cosa, pero al menos ofrece data para explicar lo que cualquier persona intuye.
  
  Eso es un único capítulo del libro. El resto es evolucionismo cultural puro y duro, digno de la antropología del siglo XIX, sumado a la ingenuidad filosófica que solo exudan quienes mastican y tragan, Shakira dixit, el dogma del pensamiento único, una historia de la filosofía única y universal, una historia de la música universal —subversiva o no— y otras cosas universales que solo son variaciones del mismo tema occidental: mirarse al ombligo y creerse el centro del universo conocido y por conocer.
  
  Este es un libro que yo no recomendaría, salvo pasajes puntuales y el capítulo sobre masculino/femenino. Lo demás es un insulto a la inteligencia y sensibilidad intercultural.