What an odd thing it is to see a whole species—billions of individuals—playing with tuning in to insignificant tonal examples, possessed and distracted for quite a bit of their opportunity by what they call aiomp3 Music. This, at any rate, was something about people that confused the very cerebral outsider creatures, the Overlords, in Arthur C. Clarke’s novel Childhood’s End. Interest conveys them down to the Earth’s surface to go to a show; they listen considerately and quietly, and toward the end, salute the author on his ‘extraordinary resourcefulness’— while as yet finding the whole business incomprehensible. They can’t think what goes ahead in individuals when they make or tune in to music, since nothing goes ahead inside them. They, themselves, as a species, need music.
Clarke likes to encapsulate inquiries in tales, and the Overlords’ bewilderment makes one ponder, for sure, what it is about music that gives it such impossible to miss control over us, a power tasty and valuable generally, yet in addition fit for wild and now and again dangerous constrain.
We may envision the Overlords ruminating further, back in their spaceships. This alleged “music,” they would need to surrender, is somehow useful to people. However it has no ideas, and makes no recommendations; it needs pictures, images, the stuff of dialect. It has no energy of portrayal. It has no connection to the world. These, for sure, are the very issues Schopenhauer brings up in The World as Will and Representation—and Schopenhauer himself was enthusiastically melodic. Music, for him, was an epitome of immaculate ‘will’— however this is not a thought that goes down well in a neuroscientific age.