music

Repetition Compulsion in Popular Media: Art Imitates (and Implicates) Life?

intermechanismcontributor

by Mai V
University of Chicago MADD 15300: The Loop as Form
Spring 2023

From the catchy tunes of Britney Spears’ Oops!…I Did It Again to the binge-worthy plotline following Walter White in Breaking Bad, perhaps nothing screams “Art Imitates Life” more than the relentless and fascinating portrayal of repetition compulsion in popular media. Laying bare the intricate human struggles of self-destructive loops, modern media has the power to intimately connect with its audience and implicate their lives away from the screen. 

Rooted in Freud’s psychoanalytic theory, repetition compulsion is the individual’s disposition to reenact painful and/or self-destructive behaviors because of past traumas. This process can unfold in various ways: a false sense of self and defensive attitude towards the bad behavior, a yearning for familiarity in past experiences however unpleasant, a desperate attempt to master anxious and helpless feelings, or the mere inability to see beyond flawed behavioral models learned in early life.

Entertainment media eagerly adopts the story of the vicious cycle, especially those with potent narrative powers like songs and television series. 

Britney Spears’ character in chart-topper Oops!…I Did It Again embraces a corrupt self-image, whistling “That is just so typically me” before transitioning to the iconic chorus. The Verve’s 90s hit Bitter Sweet Symphony resounds, “You know I can change… But I’m here in my mold,” echoed by Current Joys in A Different Age with the lyrics, “And I wish I could change, but I’ll probably just stay the same.”

The Verve — Bitter Sweet Symphony

Some of the most popular and critically acclaimed TV series of all time, namely Breaking Bad, The Sopranos, Euphoria, and BoJack Horseman, all observe characters trapped in behavioral loops. In Breaking Bad, high-school teacher Walter White embarks on a journey of increasingly dangerous and immoral actions following his cancer diagnosis, uncovering a deep-rooted egoism that detonates against the powerless fear of death. In The Sopranos, mob boss Tony Soprano acknowledges his violent past and dysfunctional family dynamics as he attempts to salvage his emotional well-being. Euphoria follows Rue, a high school student grappling with drug addiction and mental health issues amidst the turbulence of adolescence and the loss of her father. Also an addiction story, BoJack Horseman chronicles a self-centered yet self-destructive Hollywood celebrity as he confronts the depraved nature of his actions. 

Walter White from Breaking Bad

Beyond mere content in lyrics and character plots, these artistic creations embrace the behavioral loop in their form, the materiality of their very production. In both the songs Oops!…I Did It Again and Bitter Sweet Symphony, the verses seem to vary only as a backdrop to, and in anticipation of, the amplified and repetitive chorus chanting “I did it again” and “I can’t change my mold.” Similarly, the format of seasons and episodes in TV series is ideal for crafting a character-led cyclical narrative. BoJack Horseman, for instance, consistently reserves the few final episodes of each season for a dramatic climax concerning the protagonist’s entanglement in repetition compulsion. The media’s structural repetition oppressively reminds its viewers of the behavioral loop around which everything revolves. 

Does popular media’s success in portraying repetition compulsion mean anything for audiences grappling with similar issues? In Remembering, Repeating, and Working-through, Freud proposes therapy as a possible cure. If the patient can recall and reenact their trauma in a safe and controlled environment, they may gain valuable insights into the roots of their behaviors and eventually correct them. However, Freud asserts the first step of the treatment must be to “bring about a change in the patient’s conscious attitude to his illness” (152). According to Freud, all victims of repetition compulsion may initially resist help. Someone, or something, must show the victims their illness “has solid ground for its existence” and matters for “things of value for [their] future life” (152). 

This is precisely where popular media comes in. Nothing rivals the appeal and accessibility of entertainment products, and the audience’s engagement with these pieces is as crucial as their ingenious production. Whereas the latter is the message, the former is its delivery. Songs are often saved and listened to on repeat, while TV series allow audiences to closely observe the destructive nature of repetition compulsion and the potential for change from a third-person perspective. Although removed from technical terminologies, these media effectively convey the need for a victim to reverse the course through persistent efforts. 

Green Day’s single She poses the question, “Are you locked up in a world that’s been planned out for you?” and suggests smashing the loop “with the brick of self-control.” Linkin Park’s Breaking the Habit repeats, “I don’t know how I got this way. I’ll never be alright. So I’m breaking the habit. I’m breaking the habit tonight.”, evoking relatability and inspiration to change in victimized listeners.

Similarly, the aforementioned TV series’ thorough depictions of repetition compulsion in the characters’ daily life highlights the illness’s intrusive nature and the devastating consequences of inaction. Audiences cannot help but introspect on their own terms, and numerous individuals have shared how these artworks spurred awareness within them and encouraged them to seek professional help, including Euphoria and BoJack Horseman. 

However, the process of instilling awareness and inspiring change in victims of repetition compulsion is far from straightforward. Freud attests to the concept of resistance, whereby individuals refuse to acknowledge their illness and defy change for various reasons (149). They might be protesting the idea that they need “fixing,” like Walter White and BoJack Horseman did, or they fear not being able to return to familiar situations, as seen with Rue’s refusal to attend rehab. Even when these individuals enter a therapist’s office and recount their behaviors, they may still construct a resistant wall, selectively narrating their stories to avoid accountability and justify their harmful actions, as happened in The Sopranos. Pink Floyd’s classic hit Comfortably Numb depicts a fictional artist, Pink, found overdosing on heroin in his hotel room. The lyrics, “I can’t explain, you would not understand. This is not how I am.” perfectly encapsulate the denial rhetoric commonly used by victims of repetition compulsion.

A therapy scene from The Sopranos

Similar to these fictional characters, real-world audiences who are not ready for change may force these media to conform to their distorted and destructive worldviews. In this way, the media intended for awareness could inadvertently exacerbate their behavioral looping process. The episodic structure and dramatic cinematography of TV series actually enable audiences to selectively view the characters, downplaying consequences while fixating on “success moments,” for example, through online fan-cam edits. As a result, they validate and glamorize harmful behaviors of repetition compulsion, evade confrontation, and remain in their comfort zone.

This duality of TV shows in the individual’s processing of repetition compulsion holds true for the broader digital landscape. On the one hand, mental health awareness is more accessible than ever, with concepts like “trauma,” “healing,” or “triggers,” and even specific manifestations of repetition compulsions, such as “toxic relationships” or “trauma-related drug abuse,” becoming increasingly prevalent across social media platforms. Multiple YouTube self-help videos discuss the need to recognize and break bad habits or toxic patterns (this one is from two months ago and has 1.4B views.) This public blog post is another drop in the sea. On the other hand, however, an increasingly enabling algorithm shows individuals only what they want to see, as exemplified by glamorizing fan-cams of corrupt characters or platforms that promote manipulation of romantic partners (please take the time you need to process that.)

Ultimately, the journey to escape repetition compulsion requires not just awareness, but courage, vulnerability, and readiness from the individual. As we consume these media on repeat, seeking out the next melancholic song and moving from one TV show featuring flawed characters to another, we cannot help but confront the loops in our lives. The illness is not linear, and neither is the healing process. The best we can do is put in consistent efforts, and perhaps with a little help from these “relatable” media, we may at last find hope.

Loops in Video Game Music

intermechanismcontributor

by Aimee S
University of Chicago MADD 15300: The Loop as Form
Spring 2023

When listening to arrangements of early looped and electronic music, the crafted compositions were evidently experimental. Access to new technology allowed for composers to be much more radical and imaginative with their works. As such, diverse instrumentation, varied melodies and harmonies, and generally innovative ways of creating music came forth. Thus, looped music became a catalyst for musical evolution as it pushed the process of composition to its absolute limit.

As time progressed, integration of skills and ideas from looped music intersected with more traditional methods of creating music. Looping certain rhythmic and melodic patterns became a more common practice in modern music, whether it was looping the beat to a song or a certain harmonic progression. However, I find that where I notice the evolution of looped music is in video game music. Why do video game soundtracks rely on loops? It’s because they have to. 

For those who are less familiar with video games, the easiest analogy is that video game music operates similarly to movie soundtracks. Compositions are created to further immerse the player in the environment or situation the characters find themselves in. Essentially, video game music is meant to elevate the player’s experience by creating atmosphere or emphasizing the emotional impact of a scene.

There are a few reasons why loops serve video game music so well.

Simply from a production level, I think it is important to recognize that in video games, music is an almost constant element of the experience. Whether it is a theme for a character, theme for a setting such as a dungeon, or theme for an intense battle, music plays a crucial role in gaming. As I started to consider why loops are used in video game soundtracks, I realized the sheer number of pieces that need to be composed for every game. For example, Final Fantasy IX and Xenoblade Chronicles both feature soundtracks that consist of over 100 unique pieces each ranging around 4-5 hours if all the works are compiled together. If these compositions did not loop, it would significantly delay game production and would likely mean cutting down the number of distinct musical pieces that these games include. 

This is also why within video game music, there are often even sections of a piece that loop. Whether it be a looped background rhythm or drumming beat, or a phrase that is repeated back-to-back, these loops can help create a piece easier for composers who have to compose so many unique sections. Additionally, some pieces will loop a melody, but introduce a new instrument or harmony to transform a piece and make it appear less repetitive.

Further, game developers have no way of knowing how long a player may need or want to remain in an area for, and therefore pieces of music have to loop. For example, two people who are playing the same boss battle may take different amounts of time to complete the encounter. If the music did not loop and just ended at some point for the player who required a longer time, the atmosphere of the scene would disappear and thus the player’s immersion would be jarringly broken.

For players, a benefit to the repetitive nature of looped music is that they can easily recognize and follow a musical piece. After listening to the composition in a repetitive setting, it becomes very familiar. As they run through an area, they can hum along or simply enjoy the music since it is something they can easily recognize. As such, a piece can be something that passively plays in the background as a player is deciding how to win a battle, or it can be something they are actively listening to as they are just trying to get from point a to point b.

However, this emphasizes the difficulty of creating video game music. The music must be stimulating enough to positively attract the attention of a player by illustrating the situation it is played in. Yet, the music cannot be overpowering to the point where it turns attention away from the game. Likewise, a composition cannot be too repetitive to where the listener either gets bored of the piece or can no longer enjoy it. It is a constant tension within the very concept of game music that makes it so complex. 

To conclude this post, I wanted to analyze two examples of pieces that utilize loops in interesting and original ways. Consider The Fallen Arm from Xenoblade Chronicles as our first example. 

After a brief introduction around 0:12, we are introduced to the sorrowful melody of the piece played by an oboe. Then at 0:39, this section loops but has added contrapuntal lines played by strings, giving it a new, more complex feeling despite featuring the same melodic material. At 1:05, we are introduced to a part of the piece that introduces a different melody. This provides a breath of new air as this is new melodic material we have not heard before. At 1:32, the original melody reappears, however, it is now joined by a counter melody played by the strings. This gives the piece a more dense texture, and makes it difficult to recognize the original melody. At 1:59, the melody and the contrapuntal line are looped again right after it is played, which allows the listener to fully identify the combined melodies that are being played together. At 2:25, the main melody appears with a new timbre as it is played by the piano instead of a violin with a slight variation at the end.  This reappearance of the melody leads to instrumental piano postlude that mirrors the harp prelude from the very beginning. Thus, the loop of the entire composition is completed. 

Here, there are really two distinct sections that are played. However, the continuous variations in the instrumentation (from oboe solo, to oboe/ violin dialogue, to strings, to violin solo with piano accompaniment, and finally to piano solo) make the repetitions appear different. Added to changes of instrumentation are contrapuntal melodies and new, richer harmonies that make the piece both easy to follow and still unique and not repetitive. This music plays in an area that holds a nearly-eradicated civilization in a forgotten land. The downcast sound evokes a feeling of pain that the civilization endured. 

A different approach is taken in Final Fantasy X’s Path of Repentance. 

The entire piece is played by piano solo and centers on a simple melodic phrase. The very first couple of notes played in the right hand part establish the melodic motive which is looped to create the A section. Essentially, the same pattern of melody and rhythm dominate this section with the pattern being sequenced up or down a whole step. Thus, a loop of a single sequence is used to create the A section in its entirety. At 0:20, the A section loops and is played again. At 0:39, a B section is introduced. While this section introduces a new melodic pattern, this pattern is then again sequenced going up and down by half steps and looped. After this, the A section is played again and the loop is complete.

This piece is much more straight-froward, as it is played only by a piano, features only two sections, and consists of both small scale (sequenced melodic patterns) and large scale (ABA pattern) loops. Yet, the piece does not feel repetitive since it employs pitch sequence in place of actual repetition and large scale pattern by including ternary form. This piece plays as your character is escaping a prison after being wrongfully detained. The repetitive pattern illustrates the confining environment your character finds themselves in, and the sole piano reflects the isolation and sorrow you feel separated from your party.

I encourage you, the next time you are playing a game, to dedicate a little time to appreciating the music that is being played.

Let’s Study Horror Games, ep 9

Ian Bryce Jones

Moving right along! This episode adapts some material from this post, but also includes plenty of new material, as well. Script below the jump.

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A Hodology of Videogames: Proteus

Ian Bryce Jones

proteus_screenshot_01

Ian here—

Welcome to the third of a series of posts I’ll be doing on hodological space in games. “Hodological space” refers to the space that humans inhabit: not a space made up of strict coordinates, but a thicket of preferred paths, affected by factors such as interest, distraction, fatigue, and urgency. It’s a term that originated in the writings of psychologist Kurt Lewin, and which traveled by way of Sartre into the realm of phenomenology.

If, as Jean-Luc Godard once famously said, all you need to make a movie is a girl and a gun, than all you need to make a videogame is an island.

The island-game gave us Myst (Cyan, 1993), and it gave us last year’s The Witness (Thekla, Inc., 2016). It has also already made an appearance in this very series, with Miasmata (IonFX, 2012). But my favorite island game of all time might be Proteus (Ed Key and David Kanaga, 2013). And to really talk about what it gets right, we have to dip into issues of genre. So, buckle up: it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

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Lesson Plan: Film Scores Addendum

Ian Bryce Jones

gravit_screenshot-01-for-second-post

Ian here—

This is just a quick addendum to my music-themed lesson on Alfonso Cuarón’s Gravity (2013) from my Intro to Film course, which I posted earlier. This bit doesn’t have as much to do with synesthesia, which is why I separated it out, but it is something that I incorporated into the same lesson.

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Lesson Plan: Popular Music, Gender Representation, and Media Effects

Ian Bryce Jones

fifth_harmon_video-screenshot
Fifth Harmony feat. Kid Ink, “Worth It” (2015, music video directed by Cameron Duddy)

Ian here—

For three quarters in a row, I used Stanley J. Baran’s Introduction to Mass Communication textbook for my Mass Communication course. However, during that time, I drifted away from assigning Baran’s chapter on media effects. I was very upfront to students about the reasons why: I find it dull, and dry. It provides a thorough historical overview of various theories of media effects, from the Frankfurt School to George Gerbner’s “cultivation analysis,” but it doesn’t provide meaty examples of studies of effects in action. So, instead, I decided to turn my media effects week into a feminism week, and use Susan J. Douglas‘ wonderful observations on popular music and its effect on perceptions of gender roles in her book Where the Girls Are: Growing up Female with the Mass Media. The book’s breezy, first-person style is far removed from the distanced overview of sociological theories found in Baran, and a good model for the types first-person observations and analysis I hope to provoke when teaching this material.

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Lesson Plan: Music Formats, Music Listening Practices

Ian Bryce Jones

music-collection

Ian here—

The following is a lesson plan I used for one day on popular music in my “Introduction to Mass Communication” course at DePaul University. I first incorporated it into my syllabus for the winter 2016 quarter, and refined it some for my spring 2016 section of the class.

The overarching theme I try to give the course when I teach it is the relationship between technologies and our use of those technologies. It’s a two-step dance where the two partners frequently get out of synch, and try to adapt to one another in unexpected ways. This week, we examine how specific music format technologies created certain behaviors of listening … which then went on to shape future technologies, and so on and so forth.

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