Bungee Jumping With Technology: Go Too Far & Then Bounce Back

When we try a new technology, the technology changes us. This pattern apparently goes back to the invention of agriculture, which led us to start living in cities (to store & trade crops), to invent writing (for tracking transactions) and... become accountants.

Using technology always carries the risk that the technology will make you more like it -- think of how much subdivisions, highways and cubicle farms mirror the structure of industrial processes. But if, after diving into the technology, you can pull back, you may find that you can become more human.

I've been reminded of this phenomenon lately through using Antares Auto-Tune. I frequently record song demos in Nashville, where Auto-Tune is routinely used to fix minor pitch problems. Although over-use of Auto-Tune bothers me aesthetically, I figure that on some projects, especially demos, there's no point making the singer redo a passage if the performance was otherwise good. The risk with Auto-Tune is that as we become used to perfect tuning, we'll adjust everything to robotic perfection and forget about the nuance that made people like Frank Sinatra and Ray Charles so great.

Here's an example of that risk: Recently I happened to hear a Paul Simon song on the radio -- I think it was from Graceland. A slightly suspect note went by and I found myself thinking "Wonder why they didn't fix that?"

What?

Paul Simon is brilliant. Graceland is amazing. Why am I thinking about fixing it instead of just enjoying it? This is brain pollution.

So that's an example of going too far with technology -- and starting to turn into a machine. But, if we pull back a bit...

Because of Auto-Tune, my ears are better than they used to be. They used to be not too bad, but they're better now, because of the time I've spent making fine adjustments to notes that started out as close to perfect in the first place (Nashville demo singers are awesome). So if, instead of choosing to fix the life out of everything I record, I just accept Auto-Tune's gift of helping me hear better (and maybe use it to fix things where it makes sense to fix them), my musical life is richer.

I've noticed, post Auto-Tune, that my appreciation of a bent note is deeper. So on the one hand it scares me to think what might have happened if Auto-Tune had existed when Ray Charles was recording "Georgia On My Mind". But on the other hand, in watching and listening to the DVD of Ray recently, I really think my pleasure was that much greater because of the extra bit of discernment Auto-Tune gave me.

Just got to measure out that bungee cord, and snap back at the last moment.

Have you narrowly avoided turning into a robot lately? Please share.