The Musical Transmodernity (First Dialogue)

Tito: After all this time, don’t you think studying music is like trying to catch a river with your hands? The harder you try to grasp it, the more it slips through your fingers.

Jesús: True. The deeper I delve into music, the more aware I am of my own ignorance. But that shouldn’t discourage us. Knowledge is an endless path, and every step brings us a little closer to understanding its essence.

Tito: Its essence? Come on! Music is nothing more than a set of organized tones. All that mysticism about an “essence” is just something we invented to feel special, to justify the importance we give it.

Jesús: You may be partly right, but we can’t deny the impact music has on our lives. It’s a language that goes beyond words and connects with the deepest part of our being.

Tito: Doesn’t all this deserve to be studied and understood in another way? For instance, what is playing, what is singing, what is composing?

Jesús: That’s a colossal question!

Tito: I think it’s actually quite simple.

Jesús: Then I’ll give you a simple answer. I believe it’s a way of offering our Being to the world with unconditional love, expecting nothing in return—like a mother’s love for her newborn child. You don’t have to worry about anything else. Still, you might be right: before we keep playing solos, we may need to understand better what we’re doing, demystify the concepts we were taught, and see music as it is, without ornaments or idealizations—just letting yourself appear, letting your being blossom, manifesting your truth.

Tito: And where do we start?

Jesús: Let’s begin with the most basic thing—the Tone—and from there let our inner voices talk about every aspect that intrigues and unsettles us.

Tito: Then let’s keep the dialogue going! As I was saying: why keep on playing and composing? Each time you do it, don’t you feel you’re following a script that’s already written, endlessly repeating preset formulas instead of saying something new?

Jesús: No, because every experience is unique and unrepeatable. As Heraclitus said, you can’t bathe twice in the same river. The water is always changing, so even if it looks like the same river, it isn’t. The same happens with Music. Think of it as swimming pleasurably in the immensity of the sea or along Heraclitus’ riverbank surrounded by fish, feeling unconditional love for that environment, and accepting that some won’t want to swim with you—either because your presence bothers them. But be careful: before we wade into the beach or the pool, we need to know exactly where we’re going so we can understand and enjoy it fully. Maybe it’s time to demystify it, to free it from the preconceived ideas we were taught, to stop thinking it’s just “more of the same.”

Tito: And where would you begin?

Jesús: I don’t know. Everyone has an opinion, but few have true discernment, regardless of whether they have something valuable to say. The value of deep reflection has been lost. I myself feel I lack real discernment.

Tito: And where do we look for it?

Jesús: We could start by creating our own Sequence of Tones, though many will say it already exists—that it’s just an extension or transformation of some scale or other. But that shouldn’t worry you, because you arrived at it naturally, from your own instrumental experience ever since the day you forgot the sheet music at that restaurant in Bremen where you played background music for dinners.

Tito: Almost thirty years ago! What memories.

Jesús: I feel great nostalgia for that time too. It’s true that the democratization of opinion has bred a lot of superficiality, but it has also let more people approach music, share their experiences and viewpoints, and that enriches the dialogue.

Tito: Dialogue—or noise? Social networks have turned music criticism into empty spectacle, where form matters more than content. And here we are, questioning even our own ideas.

Jesús: Questioning is necessary. It’s what lets us grow and better understand what we do. Maybe that’s why I decided to step away from the stage for a while as a soloist. I needed distance to see things more clearly, to question the very meaning of making music.

Tito: And here we are, writing a blog instead of playing solos in public, like we’ve done all our lives. Isn’t it ironic?

Jesús: Maybe, but I think this blog is necessary—not to impose truths but to ask questions that help us free music from dogmas and grasp its real complexity.

Tito: Then let’s demystify! Let’s talk about the myths of talent, about how technology and artificial intelligence are changing everything, let’s question the purity of genres—

Jesús: Easy… We can also talk about what makes music so powerful—its ability to move us, to unite us, to reflect our humanity. Because in the end, to demystify is not to destroy but to understand better. nd the Sequence of Tones, to which we’ll give its proper name, will be our daily routine for singing, playing, and composing.