Artificial vocality, in simple terms, involves the synthesis of the human voice. As mentioned previously, however, the multitude of theoretical discussions concerning its musical potential tends to gravitate more towards aspects of science and mathematics. Bruno Bossis’ recent research on this topic has attempted to establish such a connection with these two branches of study and music. While he indicates that musical terminology can be used (eg., “timbre”), he also stresses that it also produces problems in terms of explanation (eg., “loss of pitch.”). Bossis suggests that it is more beneficial to combine the science of Acoustics aspects of contemporary Music Theory, such as Integral Serialism, in order to gather more useful information.[1]
Bossis’ article proves to be a somewhat helpful guide to describing artificial vocality in music. It is important to grasp a basic understanding of scientific principles, such as the “Fourier Theorem,” which states that sounds are composed of sine waves.[2] However, Bossis’ discussion is problematic for two specific reasons. First, he is concentrating primarily on contemporary electroacoustic classical music: not pop, as is the focus of this paper. Secondly, popular music (with or without electronics), follows a markedly different criteria in terms of academic study. While Music Theory can serve to bolster analyses of particular songs, the types of analyses often must rely on the musical or visual descriptions to support given points about the voice.[3]
This last idea conflicts sharply with Roland Barthes’s monumental, albeit frequently overused, discussions of the human voice. In his 1977 essay on vocal “grain,” (translated from French to English), Barthes vehemently rejects the utilization of descriptive adjectives because he perceives them as superfluous. Instead, he uses the terms geno-song and pheno-song as a better means of accurately describing vocal music (It should be noted that he borrows heavily from Julianne Kristeva, with her concepts of geno-text and phenol-text). Despite the significance of his article, his description of “grain” is rather ambiguous. What is even more glaringly obvious is that Barthes’s main points are grounded more in his opinion about the human voice than in fact. He devotes the majority of his article to a discussion of the distinct singing style of Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau and Charles Panzera: arguing that Panzera’s singing techniques convey more emotive qualities than the latter.[4]
How would aspects of vocal “grain” relate to artificial vocality, though? Put another way, would it be possible for a synthesized voice to be capable of producing the emotive and interpretive qualities of geno-song and pheno-song? Some would probably disagree. As Kay Dickson suggests, the utilization of artificial vocality has often carried with it negative repercussions within the social context of popular music. Some listeners have perceived the incorporation of technological devices and software progams in vocal music as a creative crutch
or tampering with authenticity: an excuse for certain artists to make more money by fooling audiences.[5]
While it may be tempting to concur with these notions, they are nonetheless biased perceptions of electronic vocal music. With regards to aspects of vocal authenticity in general, the Indian-German composer Sandeep Bhagwati provides a counter-response to this idea.In his essay on vocal music and non-Western cultures, he stesses that, “there is no such thing as an ‘authentic’ voice.”[6] Additionally, as will be discussed shortly, not all performers in pop music have utilized electronics as a substitute for singing. In keeping with my discussion of race and gender in artificial vocality, I will now present three examples of male and female artists from various genres who have bypassed social stereotypes: Stevie Wonder, Imogen Heap and Daft Punk. These discussions will refer specifically to relevant albums which utilize different approaches to vocal technology.
The Electronic Voice of Stevie Wonder in Music of My Mind and Songs in the Key of Life
The music of black American R&B and Soul superstar Stevie Wonder, alias Steven Judkins (b. 1950), consists of a plethora of styles: from Mowtown (“Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’mYours)”[7]), to elements of jazz (“Sir Duke”[8]), Gospel (“Jesus Children of America”[9]) and Latin American timbres (“Don’t You Worry ‘Bout a Thing” [10]). His albums from the 1970s, in particular, represent a very productive period of musical maturity and artistic creativity. Part of this aspect stems from his experimentation with electronic instruments during that decade. With regards to artificial vocality, his songs often incorporate the vocoder and Talk Box. Wonder demonstrated the musical potential of the latter device in his guest-appearance on the children’s educational program, Sesame Street (“1-2-3 Sesame Street”).[11]
This is not to suggest that Wonder was the only person to use a Talk Box: a name that is visually misleading. Nor did this device originate in the 1970s. As Dave Thompkins indicates. Rather comically:
…. The first Talk Boxes weren’t boxes but bags. In 1963, Doug Forbes was working in an electronics shop in Missouri when an old man came in speaking through a synthetic larynx. Forbes thought it was a vibrating tuna can. Wanting to fill his throat with guitar fuzz, Forbes then built a bagpipe prototype, essentially a hot-water bottle draped with “splendid green carpet with gold fringes….[12]
Besides Wonder, other pop artist of the 1970s had harnessed the power of the Talk Box to enhance their music (Tompkins later goes on to discuss British rock guitarist Peter Frampton and his album, Frampton Comes Alive!).[13] In the case of Stevie Wonder and artificial vocality, his incorporation of electronics and artificial vocality became essential for him to maintain relevance as an artist in the 1970s. This meant diversifying his audience.
While Wonder’s 1972 album Talking Book has often served as testament to his musical transformation, his Music of My Mind (released earlier that same year) deserves equal recognition. It, too, demonstrates a stark contrast in style and compositional approach when compared with his earlier albums from the 1960s. While working in New York City, Wonder became especially captivated by the electronic albums that were then taking shape. As Mark Ribowsky explains:
… [But] it was one called Zero Time that really caught his ears. This was an experimental work by a pair of sound-engineers … named Robert Margouleff and Malcom Cecil under the cryptic pseudonym Tonto’s Expanding Head Band, all the sounds of which came from what they called “The Original New Timbral Orchestra,” or TONTO, a polyphonic, souped-up Moog III synthesizer…. Looking more like a condo than an instrument, TONTO needed and entire room to house all of its modules, panels, cables, and other gizmos, and programming it required both men to fiddle with knobs, dials, and sliders….[14]
Despite its complicated production process, Music of My Mind nonetheless presents a diverse sound palate. “Love Having You Around,” the first track on the album, is a collaborative effort between Wonder and Syreeta Wright: his first wife. (The song presents a tinge of bitter irony considering that Wonder and Wright had divorced during the production of Music of My Mind.[15]). “Love Having You Around” consists of a steady, funk beat throughout the majority of the song. What makes it fascinating, aside from its unusual length of over seven minutes, is the inclusion of Wonder’s synthesized voice via the Talk Box. The first instance of artificial vocality in the song occurs roughly from 0:12 to 0:20 of the Introduction (with Wonder vocalizing, “Baby, baby, baby….”).[16] From this point on, the overdubbed electronic voice utilizes a “call-and-response” technique of sorts. This is especially noticeable in the verses of the songs, as in the first verse after Wonder finishes the line “… And every day I wanna’ get on my camel and ride.” (0:29-0:38 and 0:48-0:55)[17] Wonder’s synthesized voice also plays a crucial role in building up tension and release towards the end of the end of the song with the repetition of the chorus, “And I say it ‘cause I’d love having you around.” (5:47-6:42).[18] The conclusion of the song intentionally falls apart. A robotic voice (presumably someone else) says to Wonder that he “…Ain’t got the words.” Wonder, then, proceeds to explain the whole context of the song. Oddly enough, the final seconds of “Love Having You Around” end with nonsensical letters and phrases, which sound like names when taken out of context: “Ma get M A (Maggie May?)/ Truss e SU (Trust in Sue?)/ An ellu (???)/ M A too/ S M A.” (7:12-7-24) [19]
Other examples of artificial vocality appear in Stevie Wonder’s GRAMMY-winning album, Songs in the Key of Life (1976)[20]. Originally released as a double LP and 4-song EP (and later reissued as a 2-CD set, the massively-long concept album clearly represents Wonder’s persistence and hard work. The project took him over two years to complete, beginning in 1974 shortly after completing the album, Fulfillingness’ First Finale (1974).[21] Songs explores various themes about humanity: from birth and childhood, to love and death, to spirituality and social dilemmas. The inclusion of the vocoder and Talk Box in Songs often accentuate and reinforce these various ideas that Wonder lays out.
Take, for instance, the song “Ebony Eyes” from the EP section of the album (referred to as the “Something’s Extra Bonus”). According to Zeth Lundy in his research on Songs, this love ballad hearkens back to Wonder’s days in Mowtown. Lundy suggests that Wonder is probably paying tribute to Diana Ross, as the opening line of the song states “She’s a Miss Beautiful Supreme.”[22]
The inclusion of electronic elements, on the other hand, situates “Ebony Eyes” within the context of 1970s technology. For the bulk of Songs, Wonder used “… a $40,000 Yamaha GX-1, the company’s first polyphonic synth, which could bend, shape, and multiply the melodies
played on its three keyboards….”[23] Despite its hefty price tag, it revealed a plethora of creative possibilities for Wonder. The vocoder (or Talk Box) into “Ebon Eyes appears well into the second verse at the repetition of the vocal hook:
…She’s a girl that can’t be beat
Born and raised on ghetto streets
She’s a devastating beauty
A pretty girl with ebony eyes.[24]
At this point in the song (0:58-1:17), Wonder utilizes his synthesized voice to further emphasize the lyrics. This is not an awkward choice, however. Looking back at the lyrics, the futuristic element of the song makes sense. Wonder sings several lines earlier in the same verse (0:50-0:57) “When she smiles it seems the stars all know/Cause one by one they start to light up the sky.”[25]
“Black Man,” on the other hand, provides a more serious example of Wonder’s treatment of artificial vocality in Songs. In this case, it is used for addressing social awareness and nationalism. Wonder composed this eight and-a-half minute song in collaboration with lyricist Gary Byrd[26]: in part, as a reflection on the bicentennial of the United States (1976). The song overall not only calls for listeners to remember the history of the country, but more importantly, they are to comprehend and acknowledge the myriad contributions made by people of various racial backgrounds. Although the song is called “Black Man,” Wonder and Byrd also refer to significant Native Americans (Denis Banks), Hispanic Americans (Cesar Chavez) and Asian Americans (Sing Kee). As Wonder proclaims in the refrain (1:00-1:25):
We pledge allegiance all our lives
To the magic colors
Red, blue, and white
But we all must be given
The liberty that we defend
For with justice not for all men
History will repeat again
It’s time we learned
This World Was Made for All Men.[27]
Some may perceive the last line as gender biased. This is not the case, as Wonder later implies that this everyone played a part in shaping the United States. Given this clarification, where exactly does Wonder’s vocoded voice appear in “Black Man?” The answer can be found in the 6:27 mark of the song. At this point, listeners can hear various teachers testing students on their knowledge of American history. By 6:35 of the song, Wonder sneaks his synthesized voice into the mixture. The song ends, poignantly and intentionally with one last audible question and answer: Who was the woman who led countless slaves to freedom on the Underground Railroad? Harriet Tubman—a black woman!”[28]
[1] Bruno Bossis. “Reflections on the analysis of artificial vocality: representations, tools and prospective.” Organised Sound, Vol. 9 (1) (April 2004), 91-98. http://journals.cambridge.org/abstract_S1355771804000123 (accessed March 29, 2014).
[2] Robert Worby, “Chapter Six: Cacophony,” in Music, Electonic Media and Culture, ed.Simon Emmerson (Aldershot, UK: Ashgate, 2000). 139.
[3] Stan Hawkins and John Richardson., “Remodeling Britney Spears: Matters of Intoxication and Motivation” Popular Music and Society, Vol. 5 (3), 2007: 605-629.
[4] Roland Barthes, “The Grain of the Voice,” in Image, Music, Text, Trans. Stephen Heath (New York: Hill and Wang,1977). 179-189; Julia Kristeva, “Revolution in Poetic Language,” in The Kristeva Reader, Ed. In Moi (New York: Columbia University Press, 1986), 120-123.
[5] Kay Dickson, “ ‘Believe’? Vocoders, digitalized female identity and camp.” Popular Music, Vol. 20 (3), Gender and Sexuality, (Oct. 2001), pp. 333-347. http://www.jstor.org/stable/853625 (accessed March 15, 2014).
[6] Sandeep Bhagwhati, “Imagining the Other’s Voice: On Composing Across Vocal Traditions.” In Vocal Music and Contemporary Identities: Unlimited Voices in East Asia and the West, edited by Chistian Utz and Frederick Lau (London and New York: Routledge, 2013), 76-98.
[7] Stevie Wonder, Number 1s, Mowtown Records, 2007, CD. Tr. 4
[8] Stevie Wonder, Songs in the Key of Life, UMG Recordings, Inc., 1976, 2000, 2 CDs. CD. 1Tr. 5.
[9] Stevie Wonder, Innervisions, UMG Recordings, Inc., 1973, CD. Tr. 6
[10] Ibid., CD. Tr. 8.
[11] Various Artists, Sesame Street: Songs from the Street, Vol. 2, Sesame Workshop, 2010, CD. Tr.11.
[12] Dave Tompkins. “Chapter Six: The Sacred Thunder Croak,” How to Wreck a Nice Beach: The Vocoder from World War II to Hip-Hop: The Machine Speaks. (Chicago: StopSmiling Books, 2010), 128.
[13] Ibid., 131-132.
[14] Mark Ribowsky. “11: The Direction of Destiny,” in Signed, Sealed, and Delivered: The Soulful Journey of Stevie Wonder. (Hoboken: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 2010), 198-199.
[15] Ibid., 204.
[16] Stevie Wonder, Music of My Mind, UMG Recordings, Inc., 1972, 2000, CD. Tr. 1.
[17] Ibid.
[18] Ibid.
[19] Ibid.
[20] GRAMMY History: 19th Annual GRAMMY Awards, http://www.grammy.com/awards/19th-annual-grammy-awards (accessed April 30, 2014).
[21] Zeth Lundy, “I. Birth,” in 33 1/3: Songs in the Key of Life (New York: Continuum, 2007), 12.
[22] Mark Ribowsky. “14:’We’re Almost Finished,’” in Signed, Sealed, and Delivered: The Soulful Journey of Stevie Wonder. (Hoboken: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 2010), 261.
[23] Stevie Wonder, Songs in the Key of Life. UMG Recording, Inc., 2 CDs, 1976, 2000. CD 2, Tr. 9.
[24] Ibid.
[25] Ibid.
[26] Mark Ribowsky. “14:’We’re Almost Finished,’” in Signed, Sealed, and Delivered: The Soulful Journey of Stevie Wonder. (Hoboken: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 2010), 263.
[27] Stevie Wonder, Songs in the Key of Life. UMG Recording, Inc., 2 CDs, 1976, 2000. CD 2, Tr. 3.
[27] Ibid.
[28] Ibid.