Rhythm
Science
by Paul D. Miller (aka Dj Spooky that
Subliminal Kid)
The MIT Press, Cambridge, MA, 2004
136 pp. Paper, $17.95, includes audio
CD
ISBN: 0-262-63287-X.
Reviewed by Michael R. (Mike) Mosher
Saginaw Valley State University
mosher@svsu.edu
Paul D. Miller is also known as. Dj Spooky
That Subliminal Kid. Besides practicing
as a DJ, Miller edits the online publication,
www.21cmagazine.com, and has produced
the CDs, Riddim Warfare and Optometry.
He has masterminded a multimedia festival
spectacle called Dj Spooky's "Rebirth
of a Nation" for 2004 performances
in New York, Paris, Vienna, and Spoleto.
In the book, Rhythm Science, Miller
has written an often rich, sometimes quirky,
meditation on the art historical antecedents
of the mixing that he performs in a club,
house party, or rave as a DJ. He pays
special attention to the African-American
antecedents of these literary and artistic
methods, as evident (though too often
unacknowledged) as the resulting effects
of African and Oceanic sculpture upon
the European Cubists and Surrealists.
At its best, in the tradition of Mary
Douglas' Mongrel Manhattan, in
Rhythm Science Miller has synthesized
divergent information on the interaction
of white and black creativity and expressed
it in a fresh way. The book is fragmentary,
at times very insightful, sometimes autobiographical,
but sometimes very sketchy, its impact
uneven. One laments its lack of footnotes,
for when Miller quotes Amiri Baraka, Adrian
Piper, or Paul Kammerer, the reader hopes
to hunt down the specific source to read
more. Perhaps the author expects us to
Google as necessary. Rhythm Science
contains an accompanying CD that, besides
proving that Miller/Spooky is an audio
artist whose work embodies his theoretical
stance, is a fine resource in its own
right. Well-chosen musical beds give settings
to readings by James Joyce, Tristan Tzara,
Gertrude Stein, Brion Gysin, and that
unmistakably wheatfield-flat voice of
Midwesterner, William S. Burroughs.
Another Mediawork Pamphlet from The MIT
Press, the design of the book is supposed
to be a selling point. The hole in the
center of each page serves a purpose as
the back cover nears, for there a button
secures the accompanying CD. The chocolate-brown
ink for the text is slyly appropriate,
for the author, after all, hails from
"Chocolate City", as Washington D.C. was
called by George Clinton (discussed in
the book) to recognize its African-American
majority. The Gatorade green ink of the
illustrations makes a snappy visual counterpoint
that includes geometric forms, magnified
or repeated pull quotes, iconic silhouettes
like the Playboy magazine logo, and inevitable
spraycan graffiti allusions. Yet these
illustrations are haphazard, sometimes
dangerously so. Miller's standout chapter
"Multiplex Consciousness" develops a thoughtful
argument citing W.E.B. DuBois on black
Americans' "double consciousness" contrasted
with writings by jazzman Charlie Mingus
and "Black Atlantic" theorist Paul Gilroy.
It was particularly jarring to then turn
the page to see a graphic of an ape drinking
from a wine bottle. What's up with that???
Did book designers Coma, with offices
in both Amsterdam and New York, actually
read the book's texts before commencing
design, or do they only speak Dutch? Brenda
Laurel's Utopian Entrepreneur,
in the same Mediawork Pamphlet series,
was ill-served by intrusive design that
actually threatened her text's legibility
in places. Here, the choice of the nasty-feeling
paper, Curious Touch Soft Milk (available
at http://www.curiouscollection.com, for
the perverse), puts this book in the company
of that Situationist text bound in sandpaper
in order to damage other books on the
shelf. Like Meret Oppenheim's fur-lined
teacup, the book thus becomes more a precious
surrealist object to be talked about than
enjoyed in a reader's hands, and erudite
author Paul D. Miller sure doesn't deserve
that. This reviewer would like to see
Rhythm Science in plenty of art
students' backpacks, read and reread,
well-thumbed and discussed, and its CD
often spun.