An argument for live music

In his astonishing yet compelling essay “A Different Drummer,” Michael Platt reviles the advent of amplification and its driving of music out of cozy rooms into enormous halls. Like other 20th century technology, the electrification of music has had unexpected implications for human ways of living.

Platt writes:

The electrification of the traditional folk and country instruments, especially the guitar, ousted folk and country music from the home and similar small settings and led it into halls, clubs, and honky-tonks. Instead of people who know each other playing for each other, now a few strangers could entertain a crowd they did not know, and most of whom did not know each other. This was a big loss in community. Who hears America singing today? Probably a lesser percentage of people sight-read today than ever before. When is the last time you and your friends finished an evening singing? How many communities hold an occasional โ€œtalent showโ€ with good music?

At our last big dance, we found ourselves without amplification, which was a strain on the voices of our caller and our singer. We discovered, too, that the (electric) piano, unaccompanied by any other instrument, was hard to hear. Thus, I do not have a problem with amplification at dances, as long as it is not too loud. What draws me in Platt’s paragraph here is the sense of a lost community.

For every professional musician, there must be a hundred talented amateurs. Every church choir must harbour at least one or two members whose love for music embraces a cherished instrument. Depending on the musical director (or the instrument), the parish may or may not get to enjoy these choristers’ other kind of music-making. How wonderful it is to have the opportunity to do so. I was delighted when a parish secret pianist asked me if he could perform at one of our dance lesson parties. Having a live accompanist, as had my childhood ballet teachers, was an unlooked for privilege.

Our ticketed dances are run on a shoestring budget (a wide shoestring, mind you, as halls in Edinburgh don’t come cheaply), and their only aim is to create and sustain relationships among Catholics who believe and love the faith. That is why I seek out musicians from within our community. On the one hand, yes, we can’t afford professional musicians, but on the other, presenting our own musicians helps create and sustain relationships with them. As we have different kinds of music–classical waltzes, Scots traditional, jazz piano–our musicians take turns both playing and dancing.

There are other arguments for live music at dances, of course. A recording will always sound the same, and however much we love it, it lacks the spontaneity and excitement of a live performance. The rapport between musicians, and between the musicians and the dancers, creates a joyful energy. If all the stars are in alignment, the event becomes unforgettable, something it would have been unthinkable to have missed. (I had the cassette tape, and now have the download, of a swing-jazz concert I attended in the 1990s, but it’s memories from that event, including jokes that went unrecorded, have stuck with me through the years.

But I keep thinking about community, and how wonderful it is to dance to music made by the people we pray beside and also to encourage them in their gifts and to give them (or beg them to take) opportunities to perform.

And yes (in case you’re a professional who is wondering), we do offer honoraria. First, Luke 10:7, and second, I want to be able to look the professional and semi-professional musicians among my friends and family in the eye!

To buy tickets for the Eastertide Dance 2025, please contact me at info@tradcathsocialdancing.co.uk.