Thinking about last night, it's the noise in music that's the music. If you're playing makamat, you've got history on your side, you've got sequences, grace-notes, referencings, dynamics, everything that makes the music; what you don't have is automation. Or think of Casals' cello bow sounds, sax/flute breathing in; it's everywhere. It's the body among other things. The noise isn't noise per se; it's shaped, it's what creates the fractal, chaotic, and accumulative aspects of improvisation (forget the reference here, bit blurry at the moment). All of these things are connected, interwoven with culture, with cultures, and the interweaving is what made me quit for example 'playing the blues' early on; there's a kind of inertia in me that believes it's impossible to go there, wherever there might be, in a kind of fullness I'd find necessary to even make the initial steps.
