Cross-disciplinary: On the Parallels between Music and Writing

"Why That Note?"

By Matt Treacy
QuailBellMagazine.com

“Why that note?”  This is a phrase I remember from a book I read many years ago. Scanning the shelves one afternoon, I came across a biography of the Irish rock band U2. In this book, I would learn about a man I’ve never met, a man who would become my guiding sound as an artist.

For many years now my artistic sense of self has been guided by the influence of the guitarist for U2, colloquially known by friends, fans and family as “Edge.” The Edge is my greatest art hero.  This man taught me that there are no boundaries whatsoever between the musician and the writer, between songwriting and developing story. “Why that note?” These words have stuck with me ever since. “Why that note” is a question I ask myself every time I pick up an instrument or a pen. “Why that note” has shaped my craft from the moment I was able to fully understand what it implies.

In 1969, Larry Mullen Jr. formed the band U2 with his schoolmates Adam Clayton, David Evans (The Edge) and Paul Hewson (Bono). The four friends were born and raised in the North side of Dublin, Ireland, a particularly industrial part of the country. This rundown setting would become the basis for their first three studio albums, while images of drug and alcohol abuse, political unrest, and social uprising have since been the subject of Bono’s lyric. But more than the words, it’s always been the electric raindrop sound of The Edge’s mesmerizing guitar style that keeps my attention. To my ear, it’s the sound of one man trying to speak for many, using the most common of instruments.

Even non-fans know that rippling, bell-chime sound of The Edge. His guitar parts are, in the most literal sense of the word, parts. It is rare to come across a guitarist with so little ego. Never looking for solos and always keeping the other four band members in his purview, Edge writes his part into the existing sound of the band, the way a composer layers yet another instrument into the orchestration of a great symphony. Most of the time when I listen to U2, I can hardly tell that Edge is even playing. With a sound that is usually everywhere at once, it can be hard to pin down.

And so, it was the experience of these songs on the radio that first introduced me to that strange sound of an echoing guitar, repeating notes and musical phrases almost too fast to hear. The first time I heard “Where the Streets Have No Name” I was sure I was listening to two guitarists, perfectly in synch and mirroring each other. To discover that such an incredible noise- a noise like the sound of five hundred bells bouncing off canyon walls—was being created electronically (and later digitally) by one human being, was one hell of a revelation.

Not long after my love affair with The Edge began, I came across that phrase in a biography written by a reporter following the band on the road…“why that note?” Basically, Edge was trying to summarize that window of time in the early 1970s where artistic ideas became infused with the pell-mell clatter of Punk Rock. It was the moment he and U2 realized what would have to be different about their generation’s music…artistry.  “It was becoming a different time,” he says. “We suddenly had to ask ourselves, ‘why that note?’”

I read that whole book. Those words became something that I had to read again and again just to wrap my mind around it. For me, it was a paradigm shift. It hit my world from a different angle. Here I was, so sure that music was simple: write some lyrics and you’ve got poetry. Put music to those lyrics and you’ve got a song. Fit the whole thing into a scene and you’ve got a musical…simple. But Edge had got me thinking about something new and revolutionary to my sheltered little world, an idea that implied great sacrifice. You have to make every decision.  That’s the only rule of Edge’s theory. When you come to a point where you have to make an artistic decision, make it. Don’t ever skip anything. Don’t ever gloss over anything. Everything must be scrutinized, and everything must be decided. Ever since I fully grasped this concept from an Irish guitarist, I’ve never allowed myself to be stumped by that question. Now, it’s a question I ask myself every time I pick up my instrument. “Why that note?” With one question, The Edge narrowed my focus forever.

Throughout my whole life teachers and writers and musicians and actors and directors have asked me the same kind of question…“Why sit there?” “Why that instrument?” But I believe their thinking is too shallow. On day one of rehearsal someone will always ask me, “What about all these grand ideas of mine?!”  But I like to start small, building from the ground up. Now, whenever I write anything at all I remember Edge’s wisdom, and make the next decision.

#Music #TheEdge #U2 #WhyThatNote #Reflection #Musician