In 2003 I moved to Taiwan and went out looking for somewhere to dance. The problem was, everyplace I walked into was blowing out the most horrific Asian techno (which really was a genre at that point), and I would be perpetually frustrated by my attempts. So, I became a DJ… One clear way to ensure that someone would be playing music I’d want to dance to.

In this newly adopted role I began to devote a large amount of time to researching music, and came across the mash-up pioneers of the era, like DJ Z-trip, and 2 Many DJs. I’ve always loved hearing musicians cover each others songs, paying tribute to the creators while embracing the freedom to make the music their own. These mash-up artists approached it with different tools, but it was the same ethic. Producers were doing things like taking instrumental tracks from one song and vocals from another, then marrying them in exciting and surprising new ways. There were these incredible synergistic moments where two pieces I loved previously came together in a way I’d never imagined, and eye-opening creations where things I may not have been so keen on were elevated by their re-contextualization. Take this example of a mash-up of Missy Elliot (who I’d enjoyed for a while) and George Michael (who I’d never had much time for). After listening to them together, I came to feel that maybe there was more to George than I’d given him credit for previously.

Recently, watching Lawrence Lessig’s TED talk “Re-examing the remix” I reflected on his insights on this media phenomenon. Towards the end of the talk Lessig poses the question: “How do we build an ecology of freedom?” by which he means an artistic media culture in which the values of freedom, community, limited regulation and respect for creators are nurtured, and legislation and copyright stringency do not smother creative freedom.

I’ve long since stopped DJing parties, but my personal connections to these questions have been born again in the form of an album released last year by my brother Josh under the pseudonym Kids & Explosions. I’m pretty sure there isn’t an “original” note of music on the album, in the sense that I believe every sound is sampled from previous recordings. My brother and I have very similar taste in music, and putting the album on for the first time made me feel like this was a record that had been made just for me. An album of a thousand samples, 900 of which I could just about identify, re-imagined as a series of gorgeously fun, complex and oddly catchy tunes. First and foremost, I think this album is one of creative musical inspiration, but it is clearly also a tribute to the musicians sampled throughout.

Album art - Kids & Explosions

Hands down, this was my favorite album last year and consequently, I played it a lot. When people first heard the album, right after either professing their love of it, or looking oddly pained, they would often ask me how he got away with using other people’s music.

In this interview on CBC Radio, at about the 3 minute mark, Josh talks for a bit about his remixing the sounds of other musicians, and how he understands that process as fitting into a sort of history of musical production. Basically, he explains that the reason he gets questioned about his use of existing music all the time is not because what he does is unique. His reworking of material is not a rare thing. He believes he is questioned about it primarily because so much of the music he reworks is well known. There’s a long history, he explains, of hip hop musicians, among others, digging through record crates to come up with amazing old Soul samples and the like, but when they’re used, very few people recognize the sources. What he goes on to say is that the reason he uses such well known material is that he wants to make music from music he loves. That’s what makes it meaningful to him.

I think that is probably the key consideration when we think about the ethics of remixing. The enormous majority of remixes come with a deep dose of tribute and affection. To be sure there are satirical remixes out there, but they’re a whole other discussion. Most of the remixes that flood YouTube and other channels are without any doubt deeply respectful of the creators they borrow from.

While searching for an old interview clip for this post, I came across something that made me smile. This remix album of my brother’s has now been remixed, and remixed, and remixed, and remixed. I quickly came across several examples of this including raps over his music and an animated sequence of some Biggie Smalls lyrics, from my brother’s track: There is a Burning Ball of Fire in Outer Space.

Biggie Smalls lyrics, in a Kids & Explosions song, re-mixed as animated typography.

Scrolling down, after watching the animated typography remix, I came across something amazing. What followed on the page was a discussion amongst the poster and commenters about the exact copyright issues that Lawrence Lessig was discussing in his TED talk, clear examples of how muddy the roads of copyright and remixing have become. But something else stood out for me too. The very first post by the typographic animator included a direct tribute to Kids & Explosions, along with a link and a suggestion that viewers purchase the original album. If we needed a crystal clear example of the respect held for creators by remixers, this must be it.

My sense is that remix culture has profoundly deep roots of the type Lessig discusses. It is very much about freedom to use artistic material, a community that shares and inspires, limited regulation or restriction of creativity, and profound respect for the creators at every stage and manifestation of the game. The challenge it faces, I suppose, is that the same fear and response which media producers have applied to the worlds of file-sharing, the direct re-distribution of copy written materials, has also been applied at times to the world of remixes, which are clearly another beast altogether.