An Introduction to Studio ZFT Remastering Project

Note: Studio ZFT Remastering Project took place in the spring and summer of 2019. Those 45 volumes were reorganized in the summer of 2020. Some more works were added to the collection. The division of three books no longer exists. This article was written immediately after the initial project was finished.

Studio ZFT Remastering Project consists of 415 works of music with a total runtime of 2863 minutes, or 47.7 hours. These works are organized into 45 volumes and 3 books. Book One consists of 18 volumes. The works in this book were mainly written, recorded, and roughly produced during the time period from early 2014 to the summer of 2016. This period may be categorized as an early or experimental period. Before I came to New York as an international student in August 2014, I had only made a few mature works, mainly in the form of traditional rap songs. Examples include “Run This Flow Down” and “Fly High” (Vol.1). Arrival in New York at the age of 21 was undoubtedly the first and most profound pivotal point in my journey in music. I wrote my first rap verse at the age of 13, not long after I heard Eminem and other American pop singers for the first time on the internet. Back in 2006, the internet was truly a piece of pure land filled with alluring treasures. Coincidentally, the time period from 2004 to 2007 was also arguably the most exciting and innovative years in the history of Hip Hop music. Dr. Dre’s new and powerful style of beat-making was a bridge that linked the spirit of Old School Hip Hop to the new generation. Eminem’s unparalleled vocal skills and talent in songwriting opened up entirely unseen possibilities of this art form. The year 2005 witnessed the release of The Game’s debut album The Documentary and the subsequent revival of West Coast Hip Hop. Thanks to the miracle of the internet, I was able to fully embrace and receive total influence from this vital movement in contemporary music, without leaving my hometown, Beijing, China.

I was a top student in Beijing 101 Middle School, an elite school located at the Southwestern corner of Yuanming Palace, a few hundred feet away from the famous and historic Peking University. The campus of my school covered a vast area of over 300 acres, and was only connected to the noisy city outside of the campus by a birch lane. Elements of nature that strangely embodied the spirit of traditional Chinese culture helped nurture my sensitivity in art and thought since an early age. Intelligent and inspirational teachers and peers constantly fueled my curiosity and pursuit of knowledge. This context of my personal development, what Mu Xin would call an artist’s “personal background”, would manifest itself again and again in my later works. For example, the pure and sublime sentiments in “Mount Sinai” (Vol.7) would be totally unthinkable if its author were merely a “Hip Hop producer”.

Indeed, the enormous tension and unsolvable conflicts between the values of Hip Hop culture and the spirit of traditional Chinese culture, which only kept being intensified during my adolescence, have always been the central force that urges me to create. The struggle for a cohesive self-identity, which troubles every teenager, happened to be particularly challenging in my case. Looking back from this moment, I have to admit that I could not be more grateful for the challenge.

Contemplation of broader and more fundamental issues of art and music made me realize the limits of Hip Hop music since the very beginning. Aside from its raw vitality, Hip Hop music as a form of art also struck me with its deliberate ignorance of the musical legacy of the past. The absence of any complexity of harmony or counterpoint in Hip Hop music must be insulting to any listener of Bach. The promotion of violence and ruthlessness in the lyrics of rap songs must seem unbearable to any admirer of Chopin. In fact, such utter separation with the past is an essential symptom of secularism of the modern world. Ignorance and blindness give rise to arrogance and stubbornness. The deepest crises that have come to threaten the very existence of humanity may have stemmed from this fatal formula. On one level, it is us that have abandoned our own past. On another level, it may be our past that has abandoned us.

Returning to my personal story, the immediate result of such questioning was an ambition to invent an entirely new kind of Hip Hop music, a new musical genre able to reconcile the kind of tension and conflicts between the present and the past that I mentioned above. Speaking from the angle of techniques, the central challenge was to invent a new set of vocal skills that would elevate rap into a pure art of the human voice that can be appreciated independently of lyrics. In other words, at the age of 15, I was deeply convinced that the kind of music capable of investigating the most profound questions has to be the kind in direct contact with musicality, without the constraints of other less important elements, such as the lyrics. To put it in a more understandable way, I was faithful that music should be about nothing but the sound itself. Words belong to poetry. As Mu Xin said, the night of coronation of the god of poetry is silent.

My odd ambition to write songs without lyrics will seem less paradoxical when put into the unique context of time and space. I was 15 years old, listening to American rap songs that brag about the underground gang life in Compton and Queens, while, in reality, leading a rather peaceful and bookish life in an elite middle school in a totally different part of the globe. Arguably, the sole element in Hip Hop music that I was truly connected with was its fresh and unique musicality. I wished to purify the materials, and build upon the result of the distillation.

However, at that time, I did not go as far as to write songs without lyrics. All of my dedication was in perfecting my vocal techniques and songwriting skills. The only actual goal that I was painfully struggling for was to make a Chinese rap song that sounds as good as an English one, which is much more complicated and difficult than it appears. To construct a solid and effective “flow”, which is a slang in Hip Hop music that refers to the musicality of the lyrics, with the Chinese language is radically different from how someone would achieve similar effects using English. There is no need to go into detail of the differences in tonal features between the two languages. From a retrospective point of view, what I was attempting to accomplish was no less than creating a brand new language.

I succeeded. I did not include any work from that period in the remastering project, because none of them could be considered “mature” under serious examination. However, the solid technical foundation that I laid out block by block during those few years paved the way for numerous brilliant masterpieces created shortly after I came to New York. Examples of those later works include “Life Is Like a Song”, “Mirage”, and “Hip Hop 4 Life” (Vol.1). They range from songs written entirely in Chinese, to ones written in a complex mixture of both English and Chinese. In either case, the musicality of the lyrics is perfected to the extent that it flawlessly and movingly blends into the instrumental tracks, resulting in pure and universal beauty accessible to any audience, even if they are illiterate in either Chinese or English.

In fact, I want to emphasize that, without this deliberate appreciation of pure musicality, many sophisticated and touching works of music can appear to be deceivingly shallow. For example, the seemingly childish English in “Hip Hop 4 Life” may conceal the deeply illuminating spiritual qualities of the music itself.

Relying on the vocal techniques and in-depth understanding of musicality, I also realized the vision of “rap songs without lyrics” in the series “Hip Hop Symphony” (Vol.5) created in early 2015. In these oddly compelling pieces, I was eventually freed from any constraint of language or rhythm, arriving at the purest abstraction of the essence of the musicality of Hip Hop. I also have to point out that these successes could not have been achieved without the influence of John Zorn. His way of playing the saxophone was a primary source of inspiration for the abstract vocal techniques that I demonstrate in “Hip Hop Symphony”. However, it will be misleading to think of these innovations in Hip Hop music in mere technical terms. My endeavor to break away from the traditional framework of Hip Hop music was always aimed to enable the expression of certain sentiments or spiritual qualities that the existing structure seemed to prohibit. This intention is the thread that runs through the first 8 volumes of Book One, and the key element that makes these 8 albums particularly exciting.

At the center of this rebellious intention was my endless pursuit of my true spiritual self-identity. It was above all this fundamental pursuit that demanded me to leave my hometown, to utterly shatter any existing system that represses the expression of my true self, and to bravely embrace total freedom and loneliness without ever feeling homesick. Indeed, a work of art deserves to be considered as such only if the spiritual struggle of the author is nakedly present. To quote Mu Xin again, art is an artist’s life-long self-education.

It may have been either the accumulation of the increasing tension of my internal struggle at a critical age, or that my knowledge and sensitivity of music had reached a breaking point. In either case, about the summer of 2016, I started being indulged in the dangerous magic of keyboard improv. All I did was randomly pick a sound on my laptop, add a digital distortion to it, and improv on the keyboard. Often times, an entire album would be done without a second take. Through exploration and experimentation, I gained the confidence and ease required to create the 20-minute long improv pieces in Vol.12. “The Case of Wagner” is my favorite of them all. Listening to this magnificent music, one can easily recall the compelling image of mountains and streams in Wang Meng’s Dwelling in the Qingbian Mountains and the tradition of landscape paintings that it represents. The only difference is that the mountains and streams in the music seem to fall and collapse much more utterly and fatally than those in the painting.

The hand of the painter is never at rest, neither is his mind. Such deliberate raging of the spirit in fact manifests the irreproachable peace existing at the center of the storming chaos. In other words, what is even more compelling than the raging spirit itself is the perfect control, under which the performance of immense spiritual drama is conceived and executed. It is true that in the midst of such intense sensory disturbance, one feels oddly at home.

Several series of instrumental compositions starting from “Gopala” and “Tides” (Vol.14) may seem to be in striking contrasts with the keyboard improv series that came before them. However, with closer examination, it is not difficult to detect the same investigation of pure musicality in these various forms of arrangement. At first glance, compositions such as “Bring It Back” and “Govinda Gopala” appear to be unbelievably childish and straightforward. However, this deceiving simplicity would quickly and steadily evolve into a rich matrix of emotional and intellectual complexity as the pieces unfold like a hand scroll. One can be easily carried away in the blissful stream of repetition into higher and more innocent planes of consciousness, while finding himself growing more and more sensitive to the subtlety of the music’s shifting sound and image.

In certain ways, these simple and joyful instrumental compositions echo with works of earlier composers such as Mozart and Chopin. On the other hand, it is apparent that these suites, especially “Tides”, borrow greatly from Kirtan, a genre of spiritual chanting which originated in India. On a deeper level, these works are also both meditative and intensely expressive at the same time. Does it not remind us of the full spectrum of contrasting facets of musical experience in the previous keyboard improv series?

Some of my favorites from this period also include “The Enchanted One”, “God & Goddess” (Vol.14), “Me & You”, and “Victorious Light” (Vol.15). All of these works were made during the summer of 2016. At that time, I was a dedicated practitioner of Yoga and meditation at Integral Yoga Institute. I also stayed at Yogaville, the institute’s headquarter in Central Virginia for two weeks. Interestingly, I did not know at that time that the founder of the institute was also Alice Coltrane’s spiritual guru. Unfortunately, compared to my works in the summer of 2016, her “yoga-inspired” music seems shallow and non-spiritual at all. After all, the secular temperament of an entertainer is not suitable for any serious spiritual pursuit. Also, while she remained enchanted by Indian spiritual practice in her later life, I started parting with Indian spirituality near the end of the summer.

Instrumental compositions such as “Craving Universe” and “Steppin' Towards the Wonderland” (Vol.16) already foresee my internal demand for a new path and paradigm as an artist. The last two volumes in Book One, which were created in the late summer of 2016, reflect this somewhat desperate request. This short period is characterized by an early exploration of dubstep, especially the genre’s signature brutal bass sounds, although, apparently, my mission was not to follow any popular trend.

I also moved to Sunset Park, Brooklyn in August 2016. Until then, I had lived in Newport, Jersey City for two years. It appeared necessary and natural to me to change my environment as I was seeking a radically different path in art and spirituality. I can still recall the fresh feelings that I experienced when I woke up in the early afternoon and burning sunlight shone through the cracks of the wooden window blinds. “Just the Way It Is” (Vol.18), a long and dazzling keyboard improv work and the last track of Book One, captures that moment of revelation. Indeed, I felt truly hopeful and full of life. That moment also marked the ending of a chapter in my life intensely driven by a passion for artistic exploration and a determined request for spiritual knowledge.

Book Two contains 12 volumes. The works in these albums were created during my stay in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, from the summer of 2016 to the summer of 2017. This period saw my increased interest in instrumental compositions and improv, and significantly decreased interest in vocal works and songs. Generally speaking, what these 12 volumes of works depict is further exploration of familiar ideas and motifs. My most important accomplishment during this period is the works from the 3 albums entitled “Breakthrough Trilogy”. This trilogy is an elaborate demonstration of the birth and maturation of a brand new musical language, which is capable of incorporating improv into Electronic Dance Music production. This magnificent invention indeed bridges the gap between the past and the present. The improv aspect of these works not only originates in traditional Jazz, but also embodies the essence of Classical music. Their straightforward A-B-A structure dates back to early compositional forms in Classical music, such as the sonata and concerto. The clarity and brightness of the keyboard improv in these works separate them from the aesthetics of Jazz, while paying homage to early masters such as Vivaldi, Bach, Hayden, Mozart, and Beethoven. In their smaller and more intimate compositions, the melody also often achieves blissful clarity and direct emotional impact.

My invention is much more profound than merely a modernized version of the old masters. In fact, utilizing the boundless possibilities of digital sounds, I was able to open up rich and vast spheres of feelings and ideas that no one living in previous eras could have ever imagined. I may even say that my “Breakthrough Trilogy” seems to be a purified and elevated expression of the musical tradition that it proudly summarizes.

Bridging the gap between the past and the present of the history of music is no small issue. It is an open secret that, although the music of our time seems to produce more excitement and pleasure, there is no real substance or joy in today’s musical culture. While thousands of untalented musicians each pursuing their 15 minutes of fame, there is neither any significant invention or real master of his craft. The root of the crisis is that the spirit and the very language of contemporary music have lost contact with the aesthetics and musical language of the previous eras. Metaphorically speaking, the culture of our time is just like a very thin layer of oil resting on top of a deep pond. Nutrition and vitality lie asleep on the bottom, while the nature of our own existence has prevented us from overcoming the enormous distance.

To reconnect with the past is radically different from merely “imitating” or “representing” the past. In order to reestablish such connection, we are actually required to deconstruct and transform the nature of our own existence in the first place. It is this self-transformation that can enable us to truly get close to and borrow from the past. When I created the works from “Breakthrough Trilogy”, I indeed saw very clearly a path to tackle the fundamental flaws of electronic music, and succeeded in that investigation. Long story short, the framework of electronic music seems to prohibit the complexity and depth of different musical structures that gave rise to the music of the past, namely, counterpoint and harmony. In fact, it is exactly due to the excessive sensory impact that electronic music aims to evoke that counterpoint and harmony have to be reduced to their most superficial forms, in order to “make room” for the direct excitement and pleasure of the sound. On one hand, it is this seductive directness that defines the expressive power of electronic music. On the other hand, it is also the same fatal directness that has entrapped today’s musical culture in frivolity and emptiness, and degraded music into a form of harmful spiritual drug and hypnosis. Therefore, instead of blindly chasing the mirage of “progress”, the only reasonable and plausible strategy is a certain kind of “retreat”. Only by retreating from its ignorant obsession with excessive and direct impact on the senses can contemporary music discover its potential connection with pure musicality. Simply put, good music does not equal pleasurable sound.

Returning to the magnificent “Breakthrough Trilogy”, the finest pieces from the series include “Smoke Some More”, “O.M.G.”, “Polaris” (Vol.24), “Eastside Lovers”, “Make It Rain” (Vol.25), “Midnight Hookah”, and “Flip That B**** Over” (Vol.26). I also want to point out that the retreat from obsession with direct sensory impact does not imply that these works do not have penetrating impact on the nerves. Quite the contrary, in these works, the directness and immediacy of the sound and provocation of feelings only appear to be much more effective, convincing, and with much more substance. At the same time, subtlety and careful consideration are reintroduced into the rendering of musical notes, after their long absence throughout the 20th century. Indeed, the world has long been unfamiliar with the kind of music where every single compositional decision is a vehicle for genuine intention and vivid feelings. In light of this fact, my achievement with “Breakthrough Trilogy” is indeed a much-needed and long-anticipated breakthrough in the history of music.

“Invisible Reality”, the last series of keyboard improv in Book One, may be seen as a prototype of “Breakthrough Trilogy”. “Strange New Music”, the last volume of Book Two, is perhaps a bold and wild exaggeration of the new language. My favorite masterpieces sit in the middle with majestic grace, whose originality and technical perfection seem to prohibit any attempt to recreate the wonder.

Book Three opens with a series of precious outdoor recordings that I did during my stay in Yogaville in the summer of 2015. I went there twice. The first time was with my mom, who flew to New York to visit me. After she went back to China, I went back to Yogaville by myself. It is not easy to put my memory of Yogaville into words. However, this series of outdoor recordings entitled “Lost Moments in Yogaville” indeed immortalized that memory in the form of music. Rudra, a friend of mine from the New York yoga institute who was twice as old as myself, was also in Yogaville as the leader of a yoga retreat program for kids. One day, when the sun was setting, Rudra held a kirtan party for the kids on the top of the mountain. My mom and I were among guests invited to the party. We climbed the mountain following the long trail in the woods, and arrived just on time. The experience of that singing party was undoubtedly among my most unforgettable memories of Yogaville. It was not really a “kirtan” party. On the playlist were mainly classic American pop songs and well-known children’s songs. The kids in the program were not a professional choir. However, the warm feelings being shared through singing, the inclusive atmosphere, and the bright sunset behind us made the event truly special. Fortunately, I brought a portable recorder with me, with which I captured numerous lovely fragments of the party. After I went back to New York, I thought about sending these recordings to Rudra, both a helpful friend and a knowledgable teacher who I admired. However, just like many other things in life that were supposed to happen but did not, I somehow hesitated and thought that I should wait for a proper opportunity. It never came. A year later, after I completed my yoga teacher training at the New York ashram, we parted ways. Unexpected goodbyes as such and the very fact that the moments of the summer of 2015 in Yogaville were “lost” make these recordings even more special and timelessly precious. I think, at the end of the day, I am grateful for everything that comes to me and eventually fades away.

What else do I need to say? Should I continue my elaboration on abstract music theory? Or detailed analysis of techniques and concepts? Will they draw you closer to what I really want you to see? In fact, I believe that the sole key to the mystery of music exists nowhere else but our heart. Different people may give it different names: love, beauty, honesty, etc. However, as the slogan of Integral Yoga goes: Truth is One, Paths are Many. The various adventures in my life have always revealed to me wisdom and light from opposing directions. Wandering in the ever-changing world of infinite unexplored possibilities, I find myself only becoming more faithful and grateful along the journey.

Tianshi
Summer 2019