“Sonic branding entails an intervention into the affective sensorium’s mnemonic system. It can be considered a program for modulating the auditory nervous system through contagious vibration.”- Steve Goodman
We’re cosmic, comical and colorful beings who absorb images and sounds. This is what we do. We absorb the images and sounds, let the bevy of images and sounds ricochet around in the honeycombed multiplex of the multihued psyche, and then hopefully we regurgitate something meaningful so our friends can either laugh at us or applaud us (the latter is infinitely more desirable). We can’t help doing this constantly. It is in our nature to broadcast meaning in a sometimes-hollowed-out culture bereft of any lasting form of novelty. If we didn’t do this, the suicide rates would escalate, music would become a rapture-less relic, art would turn into dead weight, and the power of the word would turn into decentralized static. In other words, we must masticate images and sounds so we can survive.
Because our survival depends upon the mass consumption of images and sounds via the incisors and eardrums of rational analysis, it only seems fitting that political strategists, the corporately religious, or the religiously corporate would try to capitalize upon our dilemma—consume all the playthings of nature, or die.
Religion, with all its marketability in relationship to the human soul, has had the monopoly over the image-centered spectrum. Think about the power the cross has had over the centuries as an image of guilt, penance, and salvation. Think about how these words are intrinsically connected to the propagation of the cross as it moves along the rollercoaster of time. The cross has power because its image is an intense magnet for our mutual need to historically survive. If its image fades, our historical self-identity fades. An identity crisis is the last thing history needs, hence the need to propagate a symbol that carries so much weight.
Is in no way the last paragraph a stealth denouncement of the cross or the religions that deify it. I simply used the cross as an example of an icon or symbol that is used by image-centered religions. Unquestionably, people have every right to believe what they want to believe in. I used the cross as a paramount example of an image-centered power-object because I wanted to create a bridge between the image-based spectrum and the sonic-based spectrum. More importantly, if the cross is an image-based power-object that affects and mutates large swaths of the populace, what form does a sonic-based power-object take? What is the frequency of control? What is the octave of obsession?
To help us understand the frequency of control or the octave of obsession, we must turn to the reality of the “earworm,” a word that signifies a type of infectious and wicked viral presence, a type of “broadcasted aural pest”. An earworm shows up in obnoxious jingles and equally-as-obnoxious songs about failed romance or the allure of shiny cars. It is directed at as from haughty positions of corporate dominance, and it burrows into us when we least expect it to. It truly is a pest. It takes control of the subconscious, and frenetically spray paints corporate rhetoric all over the subliminal walls. It could come flying in your direction from the dumb and Neanderthal-esque hook of a Nickelback song you’ve heard a thousand times before, or in that stuffy elevator that plays MIDI progressions all day. It could come from the speakers in a grocery store. It doesn’t matter. We are dealing with what Steve Goodman calls “affective tonality” in his brilliant book, “Sonic Warfare: Sound, Affect, and the Ecology of Fear.” Affective tonality targets a listless audience of complacent consumers, and drives the stake of corporate and ideological dominance into the heart of each person. It is dangerous not because it is flagrantly evil, but because it is so deliciously infectious for us. The vibrations dance with us. The frequencies mingle with our flesh. The earworm becomes one with us.
Another danger that threatens from on high courtesy of the rascals of corporate dominion is one that centers on our sonic fragility. We hear from the range of twenty hertz to about twenty thousand hertz. Anything beyond this range becomes inaudible to us. The infrasonic and the ultrasonic are inhabited by such things as dog whistles, cricket chatter, and super-powerful bass murmurs. We’re sonically fragile because anything that is directed at us from these frequency realms can potentially interact with us incognito. The bastard marriage of what Goodman calls “affective tonality” and the infrasonic and ultrasonic domains engenders the ultimate weapon against the free-will of the consumer. We cannot protect ourselves from the things we can’t aurally detect. We’re susceptible to slavish behavior when the inaudible sonic domains are monitored and controlled by wily corporate cowboys looking to dominate the frontiers of the collective.
So what can be done with the earworm and its meddlesome presence? How can we protect ourselves from ultrasonic and infrasonic controlling frequencies? How do we disentangle ourselves from the octave of obsession broadcasted from the unruly battle-station of corporate capitalism?
I propose we develop our sonic sense to the degree that we can develop our intellects. We must be able to “read the frequencies,” just like we’re able to read between the lines of a text or play. We must view the hearing spectrum as a blessing not to be taken for granted. Eventually we may evolve to the point where we can discern frequencies outside the parameters of the hearing spectrum, but for now we must co-inhabit a space that utilizes only the frequencies discernable to us. This means we must fortify and refine our sonic selves by working within the regimented system of audibility. This will take time and effort, but eventually something novel will form within the collective acropolis of sonic well-being. Then we wont be as susceptible to those pesky earworms. Then Nickelback will be replaced by a non-corporate band that actually has some skill. Then the lifeless nature of the elevator ride will be spiced-up by something meaningful.
Remember, it is in our nature to broadcast meaning in a sometimes-hollowed-out culture bereft of any lasting form of novelty.
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