by Christopher David DeLaurenti. Christopher is a sound artist, improvisor, and phonographer based in Virginia. His sound work encompasses field recordings, electroacoustic and acousmatic music, text-sound scores, free-improvised low-tech electronics, and compositions for acoustic instruments. His latest work No Sound Is Stolen: Fair Use Music 1983-2013 was just released today, Wednesday February 26^th, 2013.

Although I’ve used snippets and substantial segments of other people’s music in my own work for decades, I have always avoided terms like plunderphonics, sampling, mashups, and sound collage.

Sonically, the names sometimes fit, but I felt instinctively that I needed another term: Fair Use Music.

It took me over 20 years to decide what to call this stuff. Discovering John Oswald’s four track EP, Plunderphonics, at the King County Library in 1994 spurred me to finish Three Camels for Orchestra. Yet calling what I do plunderphonics doesn’t feel right, despite my affection for the term and love of Oswald’s music. In my heart, I know I’m not stealing anything.

I hate the word sampling; the connotation of superficial, fly-by listening belies the profound challenge – and seduction – of sampling: To make what someone else has recorded yours. Sampling also denotes repeatedly triggering the same sound from a keyboard, pad, or predefined loop, something I would never, ever do. I love it when others do it well (namely The Bran Flakes, People Like Us, Escape Mechanism, Negativland, Steev Hise, Wobbly, Evolution Control Committee, Paul Dolden, and others) but it’s not for me. I prefer to hew and hone fragments (with debts owed to the amazing Noah Creshevsky and John Wall with a kinship to the Randomized Control Trials of Martin Bland) as in Three Camels or subject a song to convolution and other DSP and end up with “Sylvian’s Wood.”

I almost adopted “sound collage.”  Visual artists offer ample and inspiring precedents. Max Ernst’s Woman with 100 Heads is a masterpiece of precise construction. Hannah Hoch and Romare Bearden are giants of the 20th century art. Alas, collage still suggests disparate fragments rather than a single entity – casual rather than causal order. The comparison has limits: Some of my edits are (to my ears) invisible, others blunt and obvious. Visual collages seldom capture the continuum from evident assemblage to seamless entity.

Several years ago I settled on Fair Use Music, which denotes how I use others’ music both legally and aesthetically. Copyright has gone too far and lasted too long. Elastic and ever-changing copyright terms (14+14 years in 1790, now 95/120 years or life+70 years as of 1998) remind us that such rights remain arbitrary with no inherent basis in artistic creation. Laws merely a century or two old and superannuated by interminable extensions should not impede anyone’s experience of – or eagerness to transform – music.

When I create, I hope to reveal how I listen. Since you stand a greater chance of already having heard a commercial (more or less) popular recording, my fair use music illustrates how I listen more transparently than anything else I make.

There is no money in making this music; every time I sit in front of a tape deck or laptop, I, like most artists, metaphorically open a wallet or purse and set dollar bills aflame. Burn baby, burn! I make my work in defiance of capitalism at an irretrievable fiscal loss. But if everything was priced fairly, everything would cost nothing – just like the music below.

- Adapted from the liner notes to the album No Sound Is Stolen: Fair Use Music 1983-2013 which has been released today, Wednesday February 26^th, 2013.