Designing the future sound of everyday life: on the first cars and electric vehicles

Sound and silence play large roles in the organisation of social and culture life. How you react to loud music, for example, helps you negotiate your identity. But when were you last confronted with silence? Perhaps when you last saw an electric car you will have noticed the absence of sound, the absence of engine noise. Right now, sound engineers work on shaping how electric vehicles communicate their presence to their surroundings. There’s basically two major lines of thinking:

  1. to replicate the sound of the internal combustion engine
  2. to construct a new sonic palette, a different set of sonic properties, that we will learn to recognize as vehicles in the future

To see how electric cars should sound in the future I will first look back at how the first engineers worked on the inevitable sonic power of the car. I will then look at what experiments engineers and composers at Audi work on to shape the future sound of cars. In both past and future the role of marketing shapes the tensions between car makers and everyday citizens.

The introduction of the car into everyday life

When the first cars started appearing on the roads in the late nineteenth Century, their noise and speed were the most common elements local governments sought to regulate. The very first cars were actually often electric, but the combustion engine soon won out due to cost and availability. The car’s entry into the, mostly, urban spaces around the turn of twentieth century spooked pedestrians and horses alike. To notify other road users drivers had to use a horn:

“The driver has to give a clearly audible signal to approaching traffic and traffic to be overtaken, as well as to people who cross paths with the vehicle in order to make known that he is coming … In the same way, a signal needs to be given at street junctions and at the passing of bridges, gates and narrow streets, when turning into street corners, when coming out of or driving into premises located at public roads, and also at all unclear places and passages.”

Police notice, Düsseldorf (1901)

In other words, even if the vehicle was electric it still had to honk its horn basically all the time. Yet the regulation is understandable as the sound of a horn extended the acoustic horizon of the car. Using it allowed people and horses to adjust to the oncoming vehicle even if it was still out of sight.

That horses were such an important part of this discussion was because they featured so prominently in the streets around the turn of the twentieth century. Moreover, there was no scientific method for measuring sound yet – the decibel’s introduction came in 1925. If a horse shied away from the car and its sounds those sounds became noise.

The first ‘silent’ combustion engine

Horse owners tried to accustom their horses to early motoring by bringing them out purposefully during, for example, a celebratory tour in England in 1900. However, car makers saw opportunities to differentiate themselves with quiet engines. One correspondent for The Lancet in 1900 noted that:

“the petroleumdriven motor cars are still noisy, yet earnest attempts have evidently been made to remove this reproach.”

‘Celebration of the Four Year Anniversary of the “Locomotives on Highways” Act,’ The Lancet, 17 November 1900

Just a few years later, Daimler-Knight put out the first engine that they marketed as being ‘silent.’ It did this by removing lots of parts from the engine and adding sleeves around the cylinders.

Autocar Handbook, 9th edition

Of course, to our ears now this engine doesn’t sound silent at all.

The sound in the early twentieth century would have been muffled a bit more by virtue of it being covered by a hood, but that’s not a ‘silent’ engine. More interesting than the actual sound, however, is that both engineers and marketeers had an interest to create cars as quiet participants in a modernising everyday life. ‘Silence’ was both a product and a marketable feature.

The electric vehicle and the sound of the future

The electric vehicle is making a big comeback, mainly supported by narratives of sustainability. Unlike 130 years ago, however, our current everyday life is often shaped by the sounds of cars and their combustion engines. By comparison electric vehicles are quiet threats that nobody hears coming. The Knight engine in 1908 signaled a new era where car makers focused on making their vehicles quiet companions for pedestrians and horses. Conversely, car makers now face questions about how to create audible companions for other street users. Not only, then, is this a question of how electric cars can sound, but also how our streetscapes can sound.

To prevent, for example, visually impaired people to step in front of a quiet electric car, the European Commission mandated use of what’s called the Acoustic Vehicle Alerting System. The thinking behind this system is that cars should increase noise when they speed up and give off warning signs in the form of noises [think a car driving backwards and beeping] when going slower than 20km [14 miles] per hour. This is often done by mimicking the sounds of cars as we’re used to them.

Renzo Vitale, Hans Zimmer & Audi

But there’s another way to adhere to these regulations and in the process reshape our soundscapes. Instead of focusing on the sounds of the combustion engine as we know them, there’s an opportunity for composers and audio engineers to think about the effects of the car and its sound on our everyday environments. Just like Daimler-Knight made silence into a marketable feature for cars, Audio is making composed sound a marketable feature. One of the main audio engineers involved is Renzo Vitale and he explained the thinking behind it in a TED talk.

The key aspect to take away from this talk is that he sees the car as a sonic organism which has to bring its own auditory properties into contact with the broader soundscape. This research eventually led Vitale and Audi to work together with composer Hans Zimmer on the sounds for the Audi i4.

It’s important to cut through the marketingspeak of this video, but the actual sound of the car is interesting. Instead of turning towards those well-worn sounds of combustion engines, or even Star Wars podraces, this is musical. The accelerating car reminds me of an orchestra tuning before the conductor comes on stage. The sounds that signal movement, such as starting the car, are brief musical shots instead of beeps. It draws on a very different set of connotations for our brains, much more focused on harmony than those sounds of the combustion engine.

Towards a future soundscape of harmony

Cars will remain a part of the hubbub of everyday life, but the sonic technologies involved in electric vehicles raise questions and provide opportunities to compose our auditory lives. What would it mean to start composing our soundscapes more like symphonies? Will that create more harmonic living environments in which all the various elements work together as sonic textures like violins and horns in an orchestra? As long as it doesn’t become a cacophony of individuality but something put together with an overarching score it might just be a very pleasant future to listen to and dwell in.

The sachetization of music consumption

Sachetization comes from the fast-moving consumer goods industry and refers to the bite-size packaging – e.g. one biscuit, or 15ml shampoo – of goods that used to be available only in bigger, and thus more expensive, packages. Music consumption has seen a little bit of sachetization, but there is significant growth to be had if platforms and services will pick up this strategy more broadly. Two things triggered me to think about sachetization and music consumption:

  1. The continuing battle between Apple and Spotify. On the one hand, there’s the message from the former about their one penny per stream rate. On the other hand there’s the direct podcast subscriptions. While both deserve analysis and provide learnings for musicians, labels, and platforms alike a focus on either of these isn’t going to help grow ‘the pie’ of music revenues.
  2. In Spotify’s latest quarterly results we see ARPU (average revenue per user) dropping again. Mark Mulligan reckons that even with the proposed price increased Spotify’s ARPU will still go down in 2021. More broadly, MBW recently calculated that overall ARPU for all music streaming services dropped 8.8% in 2020. In other words, subscription revenue is dropping due to things such as family plans and marketing combinations (Fortnite Crew with 3 months of Spotify anyone?). Another big reason, however, is the lowering of prices in new markets, including the sachetized India. Instead of lowering overall subscription prices, music streaming services – and others – need to consider sachetizing their products.

From India to Nigeria: lessons in sachetization

The thinking behind sachetization often revolves around creating something that offers people who can’t afford something that very thing in a small dose. As such, the discourse surrounding sachetization veers towards talking about countries where the mechanism is popular as poor economies. While I won’t argue against it, I do think that focus misses out on the opportunities. Two examples will help me illustrate this.

Micro-credit in India

India is a big country with a lot of inhabitants. Many of these people are not formally employed. This does not mean they don’t have an income, but it does mean that the banking and credit system does not recognize their earnings. It’s for this reason that Viral Acharya, professor of economics at NYU-Stern, has argued for the sachetization of finance in India. One example he offered to explain its necessity in the FT article is that of a farmer. Instead of demanding a loan to this farmer to be repaid in regular monthly installments misses the point of them only earning money during the harvest. The example is meant to show that each person has its own cash-flow situation and requires a credit that reflects this specific circumstance.

The Reserve Bank of India has set out regulations to support this. In a talk Acharya delivered at Bombay Tech Fest in 2018 he argued that the public credit registry allows people to build up a reputation and the trust of lenders. Sachetizing credit thus means to create a specific set of circumstances that allows people to enter who would normally sit outside the formal credit market. In a way, it allows people to get a leg up, a first step onto a ladder, or a way to finance what they aspire to.

Nigeria’s sachet economy

There’s a lot to be said by the argument put forward in this tweet. Nairametrics, for example, see sachetization as innovation around poverty. And yet, there’s a lot of people to be reached by offering sachets instead of fullblown products. The examples in Nigeria are plenty and move from FMCGs to fin-tech and entertainment. When it works, it’s because it deletes what Efosa Ojomo calls nonconsumption.

Nonconsumption is the inability of an entity (person or organization) to purchase and use (consume) a product or service required to fulfill an important Job to Be Done. This inability to purchase can arise from the product’s cost, inconvenience and complexity, along with a host of other factors—none of which tend to be limitations for the rich, skilled, and powerful in society.

There’s a different reason to tackle nonconsumption: aspiration. M-KOPA in a Kenyan company that offers smartphones, and other products, by letting people pay in installments. The smartphone is then used by the company to track the financials of the user and, for example, unlock or lock certain URLs or payments. In the end, all of these types of services of sachetization in terms of pay-as-you-go and repay-as-you-can.

The opportunity for music

The whole idea of sachetization is to grow the number of people that can afford your product or service. There are different ways to do this for music businesses and they all don’t involve simply lowering your price for the full offer. Some of these will look like strategies used more widely around the world while others will hark back to old methods.

  • pay-as-you-go in the form of opening a music streaming service and paying only when you use it. For example, per minute, per song, etc.
  • pay-as-you-go in the form of passes. For example for a day, an hour, an album, etc.
  • there’s a lot to learn from gaming (the idea of the pass in the previous bullet point harks back to Bas’ 2016 article about gaming industry lessons). One of them is to work together with payment structures that gamers are used to. Razer Gold is one such option. A popular method for gamers to buy both games and in-game content. It’s not difficult to imagine a streaming service stepping into a partnership and offering limited access to certain playlists in-game.
  • The tactics of sachetization aren’t just for music streaming services. It’s also possible to step in at artist level through, for example, tipping. Centipenny is one example where people can work with micropayments that can go as low as, you guessed it, a penny. Users can top-up their account with small amounts and artists can include a widget, poll, mini paywall, etc. to receive funds.

Sachetization of music consumption is more than innovation for the poor. It’s real opportunity to increase the total number of people paying for music directly. Moreover, it does so on their terms instead of on those set by the major platforms.

Live music is all you need, right? A hybrid tale

Changes that had been simmering in the live music industry for years accelerated during the pandemic. It’s hard to find an artist who hasn’t done a livestream nowadays and this has pushed musicians to ask more directly what their fans want and want to pay for. Similarly, games have provided stages for music in lieu of the physical format. At the same time, we see the first glimpses of in-person events and how they might take shape with and without restrictions. Here, I will take stock of where we stand right now through some of my own recent experiences and how I see this play out as a tale of hybrid events in the near future.

Livestreaming and in-game experiences

Some livestreams are more successful than others, this was already the case before the pandemic hit, but certainly reverberated throughout the last year. Cherie Hu got to the essence of what all successful livestreams share: intimacy/proximity, production quality, and frequency/consistency. What we should add to that is to make the livestreaming experience something totally different from what the in-person live experience is. There’s no replicating the energy of audiences in a venue and the touch of bodies in a moshpit or the power of sound hitting you in the gut. At the same time, livestreaming offers an opportunity to create something unique. And this runs from Norah Jones topping the streaming charts with her intimate, one-camera home shows to the concert venue Ancienne Belgique building a carbon copy of their venue in the Unreal Engine and dubbing it Nouvelle Belgique.

Being with the artist

What Norah Jones, and other mainly singer-songwriter style artists, have managed so well with their livestreams is bring their fans really close. Of course, it helps to be an open person who’s happy to let their fans into their homes and interact with them via video and chat. It would be difficult, for example, to see someone like The Knife or others artists who shroud themselves in mystery do the same. For those who can do it authentically, though, the intimate livestream is a winner. Fans love being close up and getting to interact with their favorite musicians directly.

There’s some precedent for this type of live experience inside music venues. From lie down concerts to those famous Snarky Puppyheadphone concerts‘ that allow fans to step into the studio with the band while having a personal live experience. It will be interesting to see if this type of concert will gain further traction post-pandemic. With more artists opting for perhaps smaller settings to offer fans a unique and intimate live experience. Such live events can even sit right into a regular tour schedule. While talking to Angela Huang for WHO KNEW The Smartest People in the Room she mentioned how premium ticketing, and especially VIP ticketing, works best when the experience gets created with the fan in mind.

In-game experiences

It’s also that fan-first mindset that puts artists like Travis Scott and Kaskade into Fortnite‘s Party Royale: their fans also play the game. A logical next step is for real-world venues to create an existence in the metaverse (similar to former Berlin-based club Griessmuehle being rebuilt in Minecraft). Brussels-based Ancienne Belgique took this leap and worked together with VR studio Poolpio and Granola StudiosYabal application to copy their venue inside the virtual world of the Unreal engine. In a way this experiment aims to recreate the ‘real’ concert experience:

  • the artist performs on the actual Ancienne Belgique stage in a motion capture suit and is made visible on the Nouvelle Belgique stage
Inside the Ancienne Belgique during the Zwangere di-GUY-taal livestream
Inside the Nouvelle Belgique
  • Lights were done inside the Nouvelle Belgique venue by the light technicians of the Ancienne Belgique
The lightshow
  • The artist has big screens to see the avatars of the audience allowing for some form of fan-artist interaction. They can also read the chat

Overall, I feel this type of experience is a great addition to live music. It allows, for example, artists to connect with younger audiences who might not otherwise get to go to live gigs yet. It’s also a more fun and interactive way to experience a concert than simply seeing what cameras record happening on stage. This first gig in the Nouvelle Belgique showed glimpses of even more potential. Right at the end the floor opened up and it would be great if my avatar could, for example, fall into the crack and have to respawn.

Fan strategies

How many artists do you support directly right now? Through Patreon, Bandcamp, OnlyFans, etc.? Flipping the value relationship between artist and fan; getting the fan to pay directly to the artist. Again, this wasn’t a new development but one that definitely accelerated through the pandemic. The type of fan strategies related to the subscription models consider how, as an artist, you can add value for your fans in their lives. This goes way beyond the live experience, but the model has strong roots inside the live industry. Going back to the idea of VIP tickets, the question that underpins every decision is: what does the fan want?

More on gaming

Besides asking what the fan wants, the question is also: where is the fan? How willing, for example, is the average classic rock fan to download a gaming platform and create an avatar? In a report by Twitch and MIDiA the focus sits on the existence of an actual digital fandom. In other words, what music can learn from gaming is that there’s a growing fanbase that will engage online first. Similar to gamers streaming, artists can go beyond subscriptions and towards what would be in-game items. Here, I’m thinking of premium comments, shout-outs, a special look for an avatar, etc. These are all elements that musicians can learn from when they approach their fans in a virtual environment.

Post-pandemic touring: a hybrid offer

We’re seeing some glimpses of live music coming back to us recently. In places like New Zealand this amounts to proper stadium shows without any restrictions. Elsewhere, we see events with rapid testing and other restrictions. In Singapore, for example, the focus is on pre-event testing while fully vaccinated people can skip this. Where I live, in the Netherlands, there’s a combination of experiments with and without restrictions. Attending an actual, in-person concert is still second-to-none in terms of energy as I got to experience as part of the ‘testing for access‘ trial.

Eric Vloeimans’ Gatecrash live at TivoliVredenburg, 19 April 2021

That said, I see the future more as a hybrid live tale. Next to the live gig, there will be livestreams offering intimate and close-up experiences that will keep people at home instead of going out. For some artists and their fans virtual worlds, including the metaverse, will be where they meet and interact. For others, geography will be the biggest factor. Starting a livestream will simply open up a concert to much wider audience. Moreover, those who watch on a screen may have the opportunity to check in backstage before the gig or have the option to choose the camera focused on the drummer or the bass player. All of this will help drive artists to consider the best approach for them and their fans and at the same time open up a whole new way to directly add value in both directions: from artist to fan and vice versa.

Pandemic state of mind: global vs local

‘The end is in sight’, ‘vaccines are here’, ‘let’s have a party’. We are at such a different juncture of the pandemic right now than we were a year ago. At the start of the pandemic governments were hesitant to impose widescale lockdowns because they were so different from what ‘normal’ was at the time. When lockdowns did get instituted the general consensus was that we were all in it together. A driver that hits us up with adrenaline and a can-do spirit. Now, we’re exhausted and we need to tap into our collective determination; which is a very different energy. Right now, we need governments to get us out of the ‘pandemic normal’ and into a life that will lead us into something else altogether. Let’s see where we are at in the pandemic, what’s on the horizon, and where we should focus our energies.

[ed. note: I am not a public health expert, please consult with experts when planning events, travel, etc.]

The state of the pandemic

If you want to know at what level of threat the pandemic is there’s basically two ways of looking at it:

1. the global view

The global view isn’t pretty. Trawling through the data on the WHO Coronavirus (Covid-19) Dashboard doesn’t make for pretty reading. Overall, at a global scale infections are rising for the 7th week in a row. At the same time, the number of vaccines doses administered is at over 733 million at the time of writing. That’s a positive, but there remain many unknowns. In a recent article for The Verge, Monica Chin explored what it will take in terms of vaccinations before we can open up again. Although she gets many different answers from the experts she spoke to one thing seemed clear: we need a 70-80% vaccination rate to achieve something resembling herd immunity. To achieve that at a global scale is very far away and the WHO raised the alarm on what they call a ‘shocking imbalance‘ in the way vaccines are distributed.

2. the local view

In some localities around the world many people have already had their vaccine jabs. Israel still leads the way, the UK does well, Chile and the US too.

But what if you’re in India (second wave ‘tsunami’) or Brazil (the crisis intensifies still)? The picture looks very different. This has been the case for some time now of course. If you live in New Zealand (hello stadium tour), your perception of the pandemic will be very different than if you live in the Philippines (hang in there 300 Covid-19 patients waiting in line at the hospital).

Similarly, there’s the danger of variants that mean the world on a local scale will look to shut down travel from certain other parts of the world. Axios has a Variant Tracker, which looks into the various variants and their prevalence in the US. What these variants mean, how they’ll develop, and what the impact will be on the pandemic is still to be determined. It’s the big uncertainty moving forward and science can only do so much without being able to test, prove and disprove.

Where’s the music?

Of course, we all want to go back to concerts, festivals, live experiences that involve people in close proximity. There are many local experiments that try, and succeed, at proving that it’s possible to host events in a safe manner. In the Netherlands there’s the Fieldlab Experiments. They’ve shown already (like others before them) that it’s possible to host a safe event where audiences behave predictably, spaces have good ventilation, people test before the event, and adhere to social distancing restrictions. Next up are the festivals and testing is the most important as audiences will not behave or move predictably at a festival site.

Testing and vaccines are the big hope of the live music industry. Even without herd immunity, the idea of vaccination passports is here, and most likely here to stay. In some localities the passport is already alive, but this is in notably rich countries. Will we see artists touring on a vaccination passport? And audiences travelling with their proof of vaccination in hand? For sure, this will happen, and privacy is a massive issue [as we wrote before]. One festival which was one of the first to shout they will go ahead with rapid testing is Unum Festival in Albania. They’ve now teamed up with Swallow Events and Yoti to bring their audience a home test. Moreover, the results of this test will be hosted on a blockchain. A verification model that could, potentially, alleviate some security concerns.

Now what?

The answer to this question depends on whether you think global or local. If you’re living in a country that has either done well on actively preventing the spread of the coronavirus in the first place, or in a country that does well with its vaccination program there’s light at the end of the tunnel. If you live in a country where the opposites are true, it’s a very different picture. So what to do?

On the one hand, I want to call out to governments to pinch through ‘status-quo bias‘ and assess local initiatives carefully and at face value. To let go of what has become the ‘pandemic-normal’ and look for a ‘post-pandemic-normal’ that will allow music – and culture in general – to bloom again.

On the other hand, I want to call out to organizers to look beyond themselves and take into account a global picture. Live events in isolation might be possible, but if we’ve learned one thing in the last year it’s that we don’t live in isolation from each other.

The value of piracy: future back thinking

We don’t talk a lot about piracy in the music industry anymore, but it still exists. In 2018, more than a third of music consumers still pirated music. In 2020, INCOPRO, on behalf of the UK’s PRS for Music, showed that piracy in the form of stream-ripping grew by almost 1400% between 2016 and 2019. The question is how to analyse this activity, how to analyse the pirates, and how to determine the effect and impact of piracy on the current state of the music industry.

How piracy has changed

Back in 1999, when everybody I knew used Napster and Kazaa, piracy involved quite elaborate peer-to-peer networks. The music I hosted, for example, would be shared and downloaded by others through those networks and vice versa. Nowadays, the main act of piracy comes through ‘stream-ripping’ which is most common from YouTube streams, but also happens from streaming services such as Spotify or Deezer. In 2019 MusicWatch published researched into ‘stream-ripping’ showcasing growth of the phenomenon. The two main reasons provided are: 1) being able to listen to songs offline; 2) liking a certain song, but not enough to buy it.

Both of those main reasons are exactly why streaming services displaced widespread illegal sharing and downloading of music. They provide ease-of-access and in paid tiers offline listening is available. Moreover, back around 2014, just before recorded music growth kicked back in, MBW wrote how amazing it was that piracy had dropped almost completely, giving the example of Norway as a country with an early high adoption rate of streaming services.

That third reason highlighted on the infographic is actually the more interesting one: random searches for music lead people to apps and websites that allow them to rip streams illegally into MP3 files. This signals a broader issue then a simple narrative of ‘bad pirates.’

The Ethnographic approach

Considering the financial impact of piracy on the recorded music industry it’s no surprise there is a vast body of empirical, academic research into it. A paper from Steven Caldwell Brown from 2016 aimed to make sense of how people engaged with and defined music piracy. This built on the work of many others who had previously shown how illegal downloaders also spent the most money on music. One example comes from a cross-cultural research by Joe Karaganis and Lennart Renkema and published in 2011. In their ‘Copy Culture in the US and Germany‘ they showed that those who spend more on music were also those who downloaded the most illegal music files. There’s a question whether that value that these file-sharing pirates placed on music is now captured by the likes of Spotify. If you previously downloaded illegal music files but also spent $100 on recorded music each month but switched to a Spotify paid account right when they launched it’s only now, after 12 years, that you will have matched your previous yearly spend on music.

It’s not just music

Outside of the music industry, piracy also played its role. Again, streaming services, such as Netflix or Amazon Prime Video, provided an ease-of-access and affordable way to access lots of content bringing piracy numbers down. However, the competitive model in video is much stronger than in music. There’s more focus on originals, differentiation of content, and exclusive deals. Take, for example, Batman Begins & The Dark Knight and imagine that happening to a major artist’s records.

The difficult thing is that with our audio streaming services we expect everything to be available. If that’s not the case, there’s a fear listeners will start downloading again. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing when those who pirate are also those who consume the most. Recent research by Omdia shows that even now pirates are just ‘content hungry.’

So why do these pirates pirate? Because they have reached a maximum they can spend on various streaming services per month or because they cannot find a specific title through legal services. In the video world, both of these reasons are fair enough. In music, they don’t hold up. Basically all music is available on each major streaming service. With a subscription to one of these you get access to all of that music.

The future back thinking we need

The problem with piracy isn’t a problem with pirates. In the music industry, those who traditionally pirate the most music files are those who, in terms of spend, value music the most. What we see in the video business is a big phase of unbundling: multiple subscription-video-on-demand services, cable TV operators, free-ad-supported-streaming TV, etc. In the music business, we have an era of the bundle: buy-one-get-all-music-ever. Those artists who lean into the creator and passion economies try to differentiate their income streams and escape the bundle. This differentiation is necessary because for the vast majority of artists the bundled streaming service system doesn’t offer a good valuation of their art. Due to the increased competition surrounding video, creators are better valued. Perhaps, then, piracy is a necessary evil in a system that better values the art created?

Lil Nas X, Wendy Carlos & the attention economy

Lil Nas X made a meme out of replying to all who responded with cries of satanism to his latest music video. This is part of the performance piece Montero which puts Lil Nas X in a history of intertwining life, music, and tech into one unassailable immersive identity. Music as art has a way of attaching itself to certain personalities through the form of new technologies. How that works and why ‘queer’, in a very broad definition, is often in the mix for those personalities as they seek to rise through the noise and grab our attention is what I explore here.

Queer, being queer, queerness, otherness

When Lil Nas X released Old Town Road it was a watershed moment for TikTok, a watershed moment for country music, a watershed moment for beats marketplaces. In the end it was also a watershed moment for Lil Nas X himself as he came out as gay from a position of fame and thus from a position of some power to take control of his narrative.

Part of what made Old Town Road a success was the controversy it created within the country scene. The artist Lil Nas X rode that wave to perfection and he seems to have meticulously planned out his new controversy.

According to Aja Romano, writing for Vox, Lil Nas X showcased Montero and, of course, the satan shoes to prove the point that to be queer, to be gay, still means to be seen as an evil in many circles. In fact, it’s queer and queerness have always meant many different things. The historian Matt Houlbrook explains in his book Queer London – about male queer experiences in the mid-20th Century city – how

“in its simplest sense, queer signified men’s difference from what was considered “normal” … Yet is could also encompass differences in behavior and appearance. Queer, in this sense, could be a mode of self-understanding, a set of cultural practices, and a way of being. Its meanings were, moreover, never self-evident, stable, or singular.”

Houlbrook, ‘Queer London: Perils and Pleasures in the Sexual Metropolis (2005), p. 6-7

In other words, being queer always means you are defined against something else. In extremis Lil Nas X shows in Montero and the accompanying video what it means to define yourself as queer in the face of Christianity.

Gamifying the narrative

Besides the graphic imagery in the music video – and Time has a great explainer of the iconography – there’s another striking part: it looks like a videogame most of the time. Looking through the religious symbolism it’s clear that the video tries to appeal to a certain online experience. As if Lil Nas X constructs his own queerness within the spaces he knows: memes, TikTok virality, Fortnite. More than just absorbing Christian typologies the video also absorbs very current cultural trends. Just look at Lil Nas X’s own concert in Roblox not even six months ago, which had 33 million views across two days and four performances. Many in his fanbase expect the visual experience they get in Montero. It becomes difficult to see the artist Lil Nas X outside of his online personas, aided by him playing all the various characters in the video. He’s as much the virtual avatar as he is the real-life performer. Part of why he has to position himself this way is exactly because he sits outside of the norm. Attaching his identity to the technologies that allow him to express himself strengthens our perception of him as a performance artist.

From queer to trans: Wendy Carlos as a vocoder

Back in 1964 the vocoder was mostly known for warping voices to transmit secret war messages. But it was Wendy Carlos who, through the soundtrack of A Clockwork Orange, brought the vocoder into our pop sensibilities (e.g. Outkast‘s Synthesizer or Ginuwine‘s Pony). Of course, she did the same for the synthesizer through her collaborations with Moog. During most of her life though, Wendy struggled to perform different versions of herself. Just as queer is a set of cultural practices as much as a way of being so is trans. For many years of Wendy’s life, however, this was not accepted on either of those levels in any level of mainstream life.

It’s almost too easy to see Carlos’ warping of the human voice through the vocoder as a way of expressing her own warping identity. Or, as Sasha Geffen puts it in her book Glitter Up The Dark:

“by developing the synthesizer as an instrument capable of creating new forms for the voice, Carlos preempted the work she would do by coming out as a trans woman.”

Geffen, ‘Glitter Up The Dark: How Pop Music Broke the Binary (2020), p. 87

More interestingly, I think, is how she personified herself through her music and the technologies that made it possible.

Attentive listening or a flow of atmosphere

Not all the music Wendy Carlos made was ‘disruptive’ in that sense. See, for example, Sonic Seasonings, an album of what we would now call ambient music. The radical exploration here is in timbre, but also in how to listen. In her own words:

“the idea was to find a music that didn’t require lengthy concentrated listening. We thought that if you enlarged each gesture and slowed the pace, you could stand back and still have the same perspective … It was more than ambient noises in the other room, surf near a beach house when you’re trying to sleep. Something in-between attentive composition and a flow of atmosphere.”

Wendy Carlos interview for NewMusicBox, 2007

Wendy Carlos can thus be seen as a trans woman who explored and struggled with her music much as she explored and struggled with her own identities. Through the synthesizer, she was able to process the technology that allowed her to create the sounds she wanted to hear. These days, she is the personification of the synth, but she not just questioned musical identities, but also listening identities.

The attention economy requires performance art

Carlos’ Sonic Seasonings was a reaction against what she perceived as a music that was becoming ever more intricate and precise. It jolted listeners as it allowed them to listen, but perhaps not just listen; to also allow the listener the opportunity to do something else. “The way you find the limit is by going past it,” Carlos said in that same 2007 interview with NewMusicBox. We are currently experiencing the limits of the attention economy.

MIDiA recently warned of the impending ‘attention recession‘ but before we get there we find ourselves confronted by non-stop Clubhouse and Twitter Spaces sessions, endless livestreams, a deluge of user-generated content across so many platforms, etc. and so on. What Hanna Kahlert – the author of that MIDiA blog – also puts forward is that fandom is the differentiating factor in surviving the attention recession. There’s no better way to grab your fans’ attention then embodying your music.

Wendy Carlos found fame by electrifying classical music, scaring people with synthesized voices and by challenging listeners to slow down. While her identity resonates strongly through her music and the technologies she helped develop and popularised, she was unable – for a long time – to express her own identity directly. This is different for Lil Nas X, whose subversive queerness confronts us with how our societies still others those who are different. By embracing the full spectacle of a set of cultural practices designed to suppress anything that’s queer, he grabs everyone’s attention in a way that’s reminiscent of Madonna more than Wendy Carlos. And yet, the embodiment of the queer and the trans connects Lil Nas and Carlos as it forces people to engage. Within our society, within the attention economy, it is almost necessary to force this type of engagement to pull people out of what they’re immersed in.