{"id":12143,"date":"2025-01-02T12:02:55","date_gmt":"2025-01-02T18:02:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/uwm.edu\/c21\/?p=12143"},"modified":"2025-01-02T12:18:54","modified_gmt":"2025-01-02T18:18:54","slug":"slow-digest-music","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/uwm.edu\/c21\/slow-digest-music\/","title":{"rendered":"Slow Digest: Music"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

This week\u2019s edition of <\/em>Slow Digest was written by C21 Graduate Fellow Russell Star-Lack.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

This week, Slow Digest<\/em> examines the concept of \u201cslow\u201d in a more literal sense than most applications of slow knowing. The operative theme for the sources below is slow music. Musicians often receive praise and recognition for their ability to sing, rap, or play their instruments at blisteringly fast tempos. But many musicians will tell you that often, it is much more challenging to play slow than fast. Slow tempos require a unique level of intentionality and feel in order to reach an audience. Having played music since elementary school and learned my fair share of ballads, I can tell you that this is no easy feat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Adam Neely, “What is the slowest music humanly possible?”<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Is there such a thing in music as \u201ctoo slow?\u201d What is the slowest tempo one can play? Adam Neely, a Berkeley-trained jazz bassist poses this question in the above video essay, pulling from music theory, psychology, and art criticism to come up with an answer. I won\u2019t spoil his answer, but I do want to highlight his observation that the idea of \u201cslow\u201d has to exist in relation to \u201cfast\u201d and is distinct from complete stasis.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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