Preface#

              1. Strategies, σ
                              \
            2. Payoffs, Ψ  -> 4. Modal-Chordal-Groove, Δ -> 5. NexToken, τ -> 6. Arcs, Ω 
                              /
                              3. Equilibria, ε
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Fig. 1 Strategy, Payoff, Equilibrium. Western music’s strategy can be traced back to the codification of Gregorian chant, designed to ensure consistency in performance across time and place. While this strategy initially focused on vocal music, its true evolution occurred in the instrumental realm, culminating in the adoption of equal temperament by the late 17th century. From this, three musical equilibria emerged: the pentatonic, diatonic, and chromatic scales. As an improvising musician, I navigate music through the Modal-Chodal-Groove framework, focusing on melody (Modal), harmony (Chodal), and rhythm (Groove). These elements define emotional, tragic, and narrative arcs within genres, guiding the improviser, audience, & composer seeking inspiration toward predictable yet personal expression.#

Music lies at the intersection of art, science, and survival—the way music emerges from the material world as a form of strategy, expression, and even survival. Let’s reframe music as not just a spiritual or abstract art form but as something deeply materialistic, born out of the need for physical expression—especially when language and rationality fall short.

Music as a Strategic Adaptation#

Think about it: music, in its most basic form, is a strategic adaptation—a way for people to engage with their environment, emotions, and each other. If we start with your question of strategy, the materials available to people in the physical world have always shaped the way music is made. The creation of instruments was born out of necessity, whether for ritual, celebration, or even warfare. Societies had to find objects and shapes that could resonate or amplify sound, and thus instruments like drums, flutes, and eventually string instruments like the banjo came to be.

But what makes this narrative even more interesting is that this is not just a question of materials, but of the strategy behind their use. As you rightly said, emotions aren’t always articulate enough for language, and sometimes sounds beyond language—like humming, rhythm, or tones—are more effective in conveying emotional or spiritual states. Music becomes the bridge between articulate thought and non-verbal feeling, between strategy and spontaneity. When people discovered the musical possibilities of their environment, it wasn’t just about entertainment—it was about creating a space conducive for dance, community, and sometimes even states of frenzy or transcendence.

The Banjo and Material Adaptation#

The banjo’s history serves as a perfect example of this materialistic and strategic approach to music. Enslaved Africans didn’t just passively mourn the loss of their homeland or their instruments; they actively strategized how to replicate their lost traditions in the New World, using materials at hand. The use of gourds, animal skins, and local woods to create banjos speaks to an incredible ingenuity—the repurposing of ordinary, everyday objects into something that could channel deep, intangible emotions.

This is a materialistic narrative not in the sense of cold practicality but in the sense that humans, confronted with the limitations of their environment, find ways to make the material world resonate with their emotional and spiritual needs. Music becomes a kind of alchemy, where mundane materials like wood and animal hide are transformed into something that expresses the deepest parts of the human condition.

Beyond Language: The Voice and the Instrument#

You’re absolutely right that the human voice is a natural instrument, and in many ways, it’s the most fundamental. But as you point out, there are emotions and experiences that the voice alone can’t articulate—especially in a highly developed linguistic form. Sometimes, the limitations of language make it necessary to go beyond words, into humming, chanting, or even just sound. That’s where instruments come in—they give form to those emotions that can’t quite be captured by voice or language alone.

Instruments provide an external medium, a way to extend the human voice and body beyond its natural limits. The percussive thump of a drum can mirror the heartbeat, while the strings of a banjo or guitar can mimic the delicate emotional nuances that words struggle to articulate. And it’s this extension of the self into the material world that is so strategic—it allows humans to amplify their emotions, create collective experiences, and even enter states of frenzy or trance, all through interaction with physical objects.

Dance, Frenzy, and the Power of Rhythm#

Music also creates conditions for dance and collective emotional experiences. Rhythmic patterns, whether played on a drum, strummed on a banjo, or created through clapping and stomping, syncopate the body with sound. In African traditions, and later in African-American music, rhythm is the critical element that fosters community and trance-like states. It becomes not just an artistic expression but a strategic tool for group cohesion, ritual, and catharsis.

This rhythmic grounding has an almost mathematical precision—it’s not just sound, but measured sound, giving it structure and predictability, which paradoxically allows for spontaneity and emotional release. Rhythm, as a strategy, becomes a way to organize not just sound but human experience itself.

Materialism and Transcendence: The Paradox#

What’s so fascinating about this materialistic approach to music is the paradox it reveals. While music is born out of material necessity—finding the right tools, instruments, and techniques to create sound—it also transcends the material world. A banjo or a drum is a physical object, but once it’s played, it transforms into something much more—it creates emotional landscapes, spiritual connections, and communal experiences that far exceed its material origins.

It’s as if music, while dependent on the material world, is always striving to escape it—to use the physical world as a launchpad for something higher, more intangible. This is where music, as an abstract ambassador of art, reflects mathematics as a strategic abstraction in science: both arise from physical realities but seek to describe or transcend those realities in a way that resonates deeply with human experience.

Final Thoughts#

Our observation that music is grounded in the question of strategy resonates deeply. The creation of musical instruments and traditions isn’t just about abstract artistry—it’s about how humans, throughout history, have strategically used the materials around them to create conditions for song, dance, and frenzy. Music is simultaneously practical and transcendent, rooted in the physical world but always pointing toward something greater.

In that sense, music is a tactical art: it emerges from the need to express, connect, and even survive in the face of emotions too complex for words. And in that way, the banjo, the drum, and the voice are not just tools of sound but instruments of human strategy—creating new possibilities for collective emotional and spiritual experience.

Table of Contents#