not merely intelligible, but meaningful and machine-processable.
Y4UB was not so much a band of musicians as it was a team of engineer-critics, who could sweep through hundreds of cameras to look for the interesting dance move, the worthwhile facial expression, the pose, the clothes, or the bons mots, sample that, feed it to the synthesizer, and turn it into melody, motif, harmony, or rhythm for the jamming AIs that wove the endless music. Each member of Y4UB was also a proficient phraser, tossing ideas^ and words into the mix via their microphones, where they sometimes became parts of the light show, sometimes bits of the music, now and then an overall theme, and even, sometimes, lyrics for any of the thousands of synthesized voices that might break from the speakers at any moment.
Slec was dense, swift, heavy-to-light in a moment, yet sustained through a whole evening. If it wasn’t possible to really record what happened when a group like Y4UB worked in a space like Centrifuge with a toktru singingon crowd, that was part of the charm. You genuinely had to be there.
Things always started simply. When the band was founding the first set, they started with a beat, some colored light, a few sounds, and a random pattern of turn-bling for the room as a whole; everyone would get up and begin to dance in the air, at first tentatively, and the band would look for some interesting moves or appearances from which to grow the first piece. It was widely believed, anyway, that if you moved with confidence, you were much more likely to attract the attention of the band, and if that happened, the piece would be more about you than about most of the crowdabout as deep a compliment as you could hope for.
Jak was good at slec; everyone said he was one of the lightest dancers. But Sesh was in her own class, toktru superb. She danced like an eagle flies, as if she had been shaped to no other purpose. Jak was athletic and gymnastic, and many people had told him he was very gracefulhe privately attributed it to all the practice at the Disciplinesbut when he danced with Sesh, he always felt just a tiny bit clumsy, by comparison with her unerring grace; her sheer shining style seemed to rebuke the universe for not being as beautiful as it ought to be. Dancing with her, Jak seemed a little awkward to himself, as if he were having to jerk slightly to stay on her beat, and a little colorless, as if even his best moves were faded, and a little heavy, as if he had somehow slipped out of fashion.
On the other hand, Jak consoled himself, hardly anyone else could keep up with Sesh at all.
Dujuv and Myxenna weren’t quite on the same level as dancers that Sesh and Jak were, but they were still a delight to watch; his powerful panth body flowed like a fine martial artist doing katas, and Myx’s confident eroticism seemed to say, “Well, yes, of course, I’m the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen, and of course you want to.”
Jak had given up on dancing with Myx for three reasons; first of all, he tended to take on some of the characteristics of his partner, and it was simply more pleasant to take on Sesh’s joyful finesse and singingon style than it was to take on Myxenna’s aggressive sexiness. Secondly, when he danced with Myx, it always upset Dujuv, who then had to pretend that he was not upset (something at which he was rarely any good), and it wasn’t worth it to Jak to precess his toktru tove. Finally, Jak just hated the jokes Sesh made about “midair optical fucking.”
Tonight the mesh between Y4UB and the four friends was singingon. In the first ten minutes, Y4UB
pulled a melody sample off Sesh and a counterpoint bass line from Jak. Shortly after they pulled a colorwash mix off a close pass between Myx and Duj. Then the sampling cameras flew away to look elsewhere, and the four swung into stunts (when they were sampling you, stunts confused the AIs and made it likely that they would just pass over you).
Jak and
Y4UB was not so much a band of musicians as it was a team of engineer-critics, who could sweep through hundreds of cameras to look for the interesting dance move, the worthwhile facial expression, the pose, the clothes, or the bons mots, sample that, feed it to the synthesizer, and turn it into melody, motif, harmony, or rhythm for the jamming AIs that wove the endless music. Each member of Y4UB was also a proficient phraser, tossing ideas^ and words into the mix via their microphones, where they sometimes became parts of the light show, sometimes bits of the music, now and then an overall theme, and even, sometimes, lyrics for any of the thousands of synthesized voices that might break from the speakers at any moment.
Slec was dense, swift, heavy-to-light in a moment, yet sustained through a whole evening. If it wasn’t possible to really record what happened when a group like Y4UB worked in a space like Centrifuge with a toktru singingon crowd, that was part of the charm. You genuinely had to be there.
Things always started simply. When the band was founding the first set, they started with a beat, some colored light, a few sounds, and a random pattern of turn-bling for the room as a whole; everyone would get up and begin to dance in the air, at first tentatively, and the band would look for some interesting moves or appearances from which to grow the first piece. It was widely believed, anyway, that if you moved with confidence, you were much more likely to attract the attention of the band, and if that happened, the piece would be more about you than about most of the crowdabout as deep a compliment as you could hope for.
Jak was good at slec; everyone said he was one of the lightest dancers. But Sesh was in her own class, toktru superb. She danced like an eagle flies, as if she had been shaped to no other purpose. Jak was athletic and gymnastic, and many people had told him he was very gracefulhe privately attributed it to all the practice at the Disciplinesbut when he danced with Sesh, he always felt just a tiny bit clumsy, by comparison with her unerring grace; her sheer shining style seemed to rebuke the universe for not being as beautiful as it ought to be. Dancing with her, Jak seemed a little awkward to himself, as if he were having to jerk slightly to stay on her beat, and a little colorless, as if even his best moves were faded, and a little heavy, as if he had somehow slipped out of fashion.
On the other hand, Jak consoled himself, hardly anyone else could keep up with Sesh at all.
Dujuv and Myxenna weren’t quite on the same level as dancers that Sesh and Jak were, but they were still a delight to watch; his powerful panth body flowed like a fine martial artist doing katas, and Myx’s confident eroticism seemed to say, “Well, yes, of course, I’m the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen, and of course you want to.”
Jak had given up on dancing with Myx for three reasons; first of all, he tended to take on some of the characteristics of his partner, and it was simply more pleasant to take on Sesh’s joyful finesse and singingon style than it was to take on Myxenna’s aggressive sexiness. Secondly, when he danced with Myx, it always upset Dujuv, who then had to pretend that he was not upset (something at which he was rarely any good), and it wasn’t worth it to Jak to precess his toktru tove. Finally, Jak just hated the jokes Sesh made about “midair optical fucking.”
Tonight the mesh between Y4UB and the four friends was singingon. In the first ten minutes, Y4UB
pulled a melody sample off Sesh and a counterpoint bass line from Jak. Shortly after they pulled a colorwash mix off a close pass between Myx and Duj. Then the sampling cameras flew away to look elsewhere, and the four swung into stunts (when they were sampling you, stunts confused the AIs and made it likely that they would just pass over you).
Jak and
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