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What Else Do We Say When We Say "Music Evolves?

World of Music 48(3) (2007) Matt Rahaim Abstract: Whether speaking of musical ancestors, development, adaptation, or survival, music scholars implicitly draw connections between the change in biological and musical forms over time. These connections do not amount to rigorous applications of evolutionary theory. Instead, they function as metaphors used creatively to account for musical change. I see two broad systems of evolution metaphors, which I call progressive and situated evolution. Progressive evolution (informed by metaphors of development and linear motion) sees musical forms gradually improving over time. Situated evolution (informed by metaphors of fitting into place) sees musical forms adapting to dynamic local conditions. Each metaphorical system carries entailments about the future, value, and proper place of music. I argue that evolution metaphors, while sometimes useful, carry political implications that can easily be made explicit. The title of Victor Grauer's recent article, "Echoes of our Forgotten Ancestors" no doubt made many ethnomusicologists grit their teeth. Skimming the article quickly and finding the unfashionable language of human genetics and evolutionary biology would have only heightened their anxiety. Would the "echoes of forgotten ancestors" turn out to be echoes of Social Darwinism? Was this to be a retelling of the story of modern Europe's heroic musical ascent above the rest of the world? Not at all. Grauer, in fact, tells the opposite story. He undermines the evolutionist notion that music naturally progresses over time from simple to complex, using cantometric data to provide counterexamples. Instead, he says, "[musical] complexity was there from the beginning"(36). He suggests that the basic shape of the complex Pygmy/Bushman vocal style that he describes may have endured for millennia without evolution or any other kind of change. But there is another, equally significant, way that Grauers paper is a break from the old school of evolutionist music history: he is clear about the political stakes of his argument. The article is not only about an ancient music survival; it is about a system of values embodied by a certain way of singing. The singing reflects cooperation as opposed to competition; gentleness and mutual support as opposed to aggression and violencea legacy of interactive play, pleasureand joy (44). Furthermore, if Grauer is right, this is a socio-musical legacy held in common by all humanity, from hunter-gatherers to computer

programmers, regardless of race or nation. This picture of human musical history and political potential contrasts dramatically with the competitive, racialist, territorialist picture painted by traditional accounts of musics evolution from primitive origins.1 Whether or not one is persuaded of Grauers specific claims, it is remarkable that his vision of music history would have such deep political ramifications. If his paper is a sign of a new, rigorous consideration of evolutionary models in music scholarship, it is not a return to a time when science is seen as purely objective and politically innocent. Evolution has been assigned various political labels in the past fifty years. When evolution is a tool of anthropological analysis, as the opposite of diffusionism or area studies, it is conservative. It implies Social Darwninism, racism, and radical laissez-faire economic policy. But when evolution is a subject taught in biology classrooms, as the opposite of creationism, it is liberal. It implies secular humanism, multiculturalism, and a state responsibility for children that overrides that of the family. In each case, an evolutionary picture of human history implies something about governance, belonging, and civic life. Evolution has done several jobs in music scholarship as well. Music scholars2 have had recourse to at least two very distinct kinds of "musical evolution" over the last hundred years or so, each with very different implications. The first kind shows music spontaneously developing from simple to complex; the second shows music adapting to temporary, local contexts. Neither one, as I will show later, is a direct application of evolutionary theory. Instead, I see each version of evolution as a coherent, effective metaphorical system invoked to account for musical change. These metaphors structure our understanding of the history of musical practices, and also contain hidden prescriptions.3 For example, what if, like Grauer, we want to describe a non-evolutionary situation. How can we describe the process by which the some aspect of a musical practice has remained the same for centuries? Although nobody has ever lived to hear the continuity of a musical tradition over the course of centuries, we may imagine its continuity through one of many metaphors. To take three common cases, we might speak as though a musical
See e.g. Parry 1930, Sachs 1943 I'm referring here specifically to scholars writing about the evolution of musical forms and practices. There is an entirely different stream of music research that focuses on the evolution of humansfor example the evolution of neural structures of musicking. 3 There is no clearer way to see this than to see how metaphors operate in classroom discussions. I am grateful to my high school biology and undergraduate ethnomusicology students for their fine attention to nuances of figurative language, gesture, and tone of voice. Conversations with these students served as the basis for this paper.
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tradition is an echo (as Grauer does,) a tree, or a stream. Here are some instances4 of these metaphors, in Lakoff and Johnsons (1980) notation:
A MUSICAL TRADITION IS THE STILL-REVERBERATING ECHO OF AN ORIGINAL SOUND

We are still hearing echoes of our forgotten ancestors. The music of Amir Khusro is still resounding in our halls. That old hornpipe still rings in the streets of Boston.
A MUSICAL TRADITION IS A TREE WITH ROOTS IN A TIME AND PLACE

The blues is rooted in forms of West African music that are free of both Islamic and European influences. The harmonium threatens to uproot Indian music. Bluegrass has deep roots in Ireland.
A MUSICAL TRADITION IS A STREAM FLOWING FROM PAST TO PRESENT

The songs of his ancestors flow through him. The tradition runs deep in their family. Jazz has been influenced by many smaller tributaries, such as the music of marching bands and church hymns. These metaphors are not mere descriptions of musical continuity, however. They all tend to carry a subtle prescription as well: the tradition ought to be preserved. The kind of change that is possible even under the most optimistic description of confluence or influence still entails a necessary connection with two past streamsor else we are left with a muddy rivulet. If we speak of echoes, what change can there be except for a gradual dying out? And what, after all, happens to a tree if it is uprooted from its native soil? For good or ill, these metaphors are often used in service of folk revivals and nationalism, linking people and place, past and present, generation to generation. And yet, we all continue to use these metaphors every day. I am not suggesting we do without them. This critique of evolution metaphors is not a rallying cry to cleanse our speech of their corrupting presence, allowing some pure, perfect metaphor to claim its rightful place. As I will show, analogies between musical and biological evolution are very sketchy, and require some intellectual squinting, some imagination, and a temporary suspension of disbelief. But this is a sign that we are grappling with difficult problems and using a wide range of poetic tools to render them thinkable. My hope is to highlight some unspoken assumptions and implications that attend evolution metaphors in

All such examples in this paper are paraphrased from written and spoken examples, without citation. I appeal to the readers familiarity with these ways of speaking
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ethnomusicology, so that we may know better what we tacitly say when we talk about evolution. Evolution and Music History Students of music historiography are familiar with evolution primarily through the work of historical musicologists like Hubert Parry as well as comparative musicologists like Curt Sachs. Broadly, this view held that music progresses through increasingly sophisticated stages over time. To take a familiar example: expressive howling, savage music, folk music, melodic art music (including the art musics of Asia), and, finally, the pinnacle of musical evolution: European harmony. This metaphor is commonly used not only as a descriptive device to arrange various kinds of musical form, but also as a prescriptive value ranking of the musics of the world in which the West is the most developed. Other musics are then seen as relatively childlike and primitive. Western classical music is celebrated as sophisticated, inevitable, and victorious, as the homo sapiens among Neanderthal musics. It is a statement about racial superiority as much as a statement about music history. This is not, however, the only possible use for progressive evolution. With some tweaking, the model can be used in the service of various nationalist agendas. For example, Swami Prajnananda, among the most influential of 20th century Indian music historians, adapted this evolutionary model for his histories of Indian music (1963, 1973). Following Sachs, he asserted the evolution of scales from few notes to many, flutes from one hole to many, veenas from a single string to many, etc. These evolution metaphors remain with us in the 21st century. Prajnanandas hypothetical progression from a three-note "Vedic scale through a seven-note Samavedic scale to the scales of modern ragas has become a common sense history among Indian musicians. In Western musicology, as Richard Crocker has observed, the view that polyphony must evolve from melody has been remarkably persistent, even if no longer tenable (Crocker, in preparation.) Ethnomusicologists and popular music scholars, too, still draw upon evolution metaphors in their descriptions of musical change (Jairazbhoy 1995, Eddy 2005.) This is perhaps most obvious when teaching survey classes such as, say, "Music of The Middle East," or even "Music of the World," that attempt to touch on a dozen or more genres in the course of a semester, in which we may feel compelled to give short, testable blurbs about the histories of various practices. As ethnomusicologists, we may be skeptical

about using evolution as a model. Most of us can marshall theoretical resources to critique glib claims to roots, origins, and evolution. But as teachers, we often find ourselves in situations that require us to say something in shorthand about their origins, and have few models at hand apart from evolution. Thus, even with the best of intentions, we hear ourselves saying that khyal evolved from dhrupad, or that ars nova counterpoint evolved from organum, or bebop from swing. However, there is something peculiar about the uses of the word evolution. It is certainly not the same kind of process that evolutionary biologists now talk about. The pigeons of Notre Dame, for example, did not evolve noticably while counterpoint was changing so dramatically between the 13th and 15th centuries. More importantly, "younger" species of pigeon are not necessarily any better than their older cousins. The evolution of musical genres generally happens very quickly, has some murky relationship with human agency, and, most significantly, it carries with it an implication of progress. Progress (or directedness) is the primary criterion that I use to distinguish two kinds of evolution in music history. The notion that life forms are on a one-way track to improvement has for the most part been abandoned by contemporary biology. But it still forms the basis of what most music scholars think of as evolution. Non-progressive evolution is what I will later call situated evolution. The evolution of music from simple to complex is what I will call progressive evolution. Progressive Evolution Progressive evolution involves the mixing of metaphors of two distinct biological processes. The first kind of process is now called "development" by biologists. This includes, for example, the growth of a redwood tree from a seed, the metamorphosis of a caterpillar into a moth, and the growth of a human child into an adult. The other process is usually simply called "evolution" by biologists (though I will later call it situated evolution to distinguish it from progressive evolution.) This includes, for example, the gradual differentiation, over millions of years, of scaled reptiles from thin-skinned frogs, the adaptive radiation of mammals to fill niches left open by reptile extinctions, and the speciation of several species of finch to fill various ecological niches on various islands. It refers to gradual changes in a population, over time, to maximize fitness for a way of making a living in an ecological nichethat is, a way of eating, staying warm, reproducing, etc.

Development takes place (depending on the creature) over a span of days, years, or decades. Evolution takes place over a span of thousands or millions of years. But typically, music historians in search of metaphors for musical change are dealing with a span somewhere between these ranges: say, hundreds of years. These traditions outlive human beings, but are faster than the evolution of species by several orders of magnitude. The mixing of metaphors, then, can be partially explained by the absence of an intuitive organic metaphor that takes place within the span of centuries. The evolution of species, moreover, can be incredibly boring. Nothing else used to put my biology students to sleep faster. Evolution as we know it violates every rule of good stories. It is slow, boring, and counterintuitive. Most of evolutionary history consists of long, dreary millenia of ecological equilibrium during which virtually nothing changes.5 Even during the periods of rapid, catastrophic speciation, evolutionary action takes place in a most un-Hollywoodish time frame. Nearly all of it consists of the inconsequential reshuffling of traits from one generation to the next or failed, fatal mutations. While everyone has seen a child grow into an adult, almost no one has ever seen the evolution of even a single species.6 Worst of all, while the development of an individual wasp has a beginning (fertilization), a middle (development), and an end (death), the evolution of Order Hymenoptera has no clear beginning or end. Development, on the other hand, makes a great story. The daily changes in an orchid bud reveal an unfolding of nested structures that has a plot, a telos, and an inner logic. Complexity emerges spontaneously from simplicity. It is easy to feel an affinity with developing creatures, seeing in them the same processes at work in our children, and, indeed, in ourselves. These are beautiful, intuitive processes; even my drowsiest biology students would crane their necks to watch the daily growth of our pet wasp larvae. And so, from the point of view of entertainment value, it is understandable that music historians (like other social scientistssee Nelson 2006) who use metaphors of progressive evolution of music end up borrowing so many metaphors from development. A variegated, sparkling mixture of evolution and development makes a much better story than pure, grinding, Darwinian natural selection. Isolated historical data about various species of music are far more interesting if organized into a developmental drama, as snapshots of a
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i.e. punctuated equilibrium With the possible exception of antibiotic-resistant bacteria.

single developing organism. An origin moment of conception or birth gives the story a clear beginning. And a developmental end (i.e. telos) gives the story direction: complexity develops from simplicity, or abstract form from embodied expression, or, when convenient, the full bloom of youth degenerates inexorably into infirmity and death (cf. Solie 1980). Entertainment value aside, though, metaphors of progressive evolution have had strong political implications. To say that one's favorite music is highly evolved is to say that it is natural, inevitable, and superior to all others. Musical evolution can be presented as a model for national progress, as Swami Prajnanada did: The history of Indian music shouldbe an authentic record of progress and development of music of the Indian people (1960, 6). Progressive evolution (unlike the more conservative metaphor of tradition-as-roots, for example) produces a frame that is optimistic about the future. The next generation, after all, will evolve farther than this one.

Figure 1: An imaginative visual conflation of evolution and development (Romanes 1892).

But what appears to be a description of progressive evolution can also become a prescription for a particular trajectory of development. To speak of trajectories, directedness, or even progress (in its most concrete sense) invokes another metaphorical frame, in which an object moves along a linear path. This is most dangerous when the trajectory is arrangedas it often isso that its architect is furthest along.7 For the wealthy, the notion of linear human progress by means of survival of the fittest can justify the abandonment of social welfare programs. Colonialists and imperialists may fancy themselves as forces for human evolution by destroying what are seen to be less evolved lifeways, forcing the game of catch-up on those seen to be lagging behind. Taken to its extreme, certain formulations of progressive evolution can provideand has provideda justification for genocide that appears to have the mandate of science. Situated Evolution It is somewhat relieving, then, to know that the strongest forms of these models have fallen out of favor in evolutionary science. As Stephen Jay Gould, the most outspoken critic of progress in evolution, puts it: To Darwin, improved meant only "better designed for immediate, local environment." Situated environments change consistently: they get colder or hotter, wetter or drier, more grassy or more forested. Evolution by natural selection is no more than a tracking of these changing environments by differential preservation of organisms better designed to live in them: hair on a mammoth is not progressive in any cosmic sense (Gould 1976, 93.) This version of evolution, which I am calling situated evolution, emphasizes the fitness of an organism with its local environment rather than its position on an absolute line of development. Rather than saying that a cheetah is simply more evolved than a fish, we would say that a cheetah is fit for carnivorous life on the savannah (as opposed to, say, underwater life.) Just as metaphors of progressive evolution draw on familiar processes of development and linear motion, situated evolution borrows from the familiar physical

Thus suiting it perfectly for the time-honored research program of (in the words of Biostatistician Paul Edlefsen) "Why Am I So Great?"

experience of fitting (adapting) something into place (niche.)8 Ecological niches (unlike niches in a wall or the stable poles of "simple" and "complex") are always changing. Not only is the climate and chemical makeup of the natural world in constant flux, but organisms serve as mutual niches for each other. Situated evolution paints a picture of an interwoven, interdependent ecology in which each species is always adaptingbut never perfectly adaptedto a web of interrelationships. This stands radically in contrast to a vision of evolution in which an inner principle or invisible hand is the driving force of change. There have been several studies that have attempted to treat musical forms in social context as species in ecological niches. A few examples are Joep Bors evolutionary model of ragas (Bor 1975) Wim Van der Meers social evolutionary history of Indian music (Van Der Meer 1975,) and Julie Cummings study of the subgenres of 15th century motets, in which various subgenres are seen as breeds of chickens. But these explicit applications of situated evolution are not the only place that these metaphors are found. Ethnomusicologys focus on the role of local contexts in shaping musical practice draws heavily on situated evolution, particularly metaphors of adaptation. This system, with its emphasis on various and widely differing niches, entails a fundamentally relativistic (and usually functionalist) frame. That is to say, changes in organisms are seen as functional adaptations to niches, not development toward complexity or goodness. Judgments about good and bad musics become irrelevant, as the best (most fit) music would already be the music that thrives the most. The avoidance of pronouncements about absolute progress, however, does not make situated evolution politically innocent. On the contrary, Goulds insistence on evolutions non-progressiveness has a place in a broader philosophical stance that includes a leftist political inclination (Wright 1999, Sterelny 2001, Newman 2003.) Situated evolution, as applied to the histories of musical practices, can be understood as a kind of cultural and aesthetic relativism9. Far from being simple facts in a vacuum, metaphors of niche and adapatation are often used to write against notions of unilateral progress and development (both of which are concepts which ethnomusicology has worked to complicate.)

Long before Darwin's technical use of these terms, a niche was an indentation in the wall for placing a statue, and adaptation (from Latin ad-aptare, to "fit to") meant a mutual fitting together of thingse.g. an RCA adaptor. 9 I.e. aesthetic and moral judgments about music are only valid relative to specific, local contexts.
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Perhaps most importantly for ethnomusicologists, metaphors of both situated and progressive evolution turn attention away from the agency of individuals. Just as evolution serves as the opposite of creationism in education debates, the evolution of music can serve as the opposite of creationism in musicology. That is, it removes human authors from history, replacing the power of the individual genius with a natural, inevitable process. Evolution not only allows us to tell a story about music without people in it: the magic of the story may induce us to forget for a moment that people make music at all. The Two Evolutions We are faced, then, with two very different kinds of evolution: [METAPHOR OF PROGRESSIVE EVOLUTION:] FORMS OF MUSIC ARE SPECIES THAT EVOLVE/DEVELOP TOWARD COMPLEXITY (EVOLUTION IS DEVELOPMENT) (EVOLUTION IS MOTION ALONG A LINE) Over time, the simple work songs of slaves developed into their most sophisticated descendent, Modern Jazz. Over the years, a small repertoire of simple melodies evolved into a complex art music. The 3-note gamut of Vedic chant is the ancestor of Rag Bairagi. Anthony Braxtons large ensemble pieces, which developed naturally out of his earlier quartet work, moved creative music forward into the next stage of evolution. [METAPHOR OF SITUATED EVOLUTION:] FORMS OF MUSIC ARE SPECIES THAT EVOLVE/ADAPT TO FIT THEIR CONTEXT (EVOLUTION IS FITTING INTO A NICHE) Migrations to Chicago forced rural blues to adapt to amplification and club settings. The fall of regional courts required thumri to fit itself into a new niche among the urban middle class. Competition for gigs has caused most of the old barrio-style salsa bands to be replaced by bands that play stickysweet, romantic salsa. Neither of these metaphors is a direct applications of evolutionary biology. Indeed, both metaphorical systems assume a long-outdated Lamarckian inheritance of acquired traits. For example, let's say that a verse is added to a song, and passed on to the next generation of singers. What would be the analogous event in biology? A classic (probably apocryphal) parallel example of Lamarckian inheritance is the giraffe who stretches her neck after a lifetime of reaching for high leaves and thus produces offspring with longer necks. Organisms (unlike musical forms) don't pass on acquired traits (e.g. tattoos, extra verses,

amputations, moustaches) to their children.10 There are other differences between music and organisms. Economist Richard Nelson has enumerated four basic differences between cultural evolution and biological evolution: first, the role of human intellectual agency in generating variety and selecting traits; second, that survival or reproduction is seldom at stake in cultural selection; third, that culture has collective properties not reducible to a pile of individual traits; and fourth, the relationship between individual and culture is different from the relationship between gene and organism (Nelson 2006). When speaking about music in particular, I would suggest other crucial differences as well. A frame that sees musical genres as species (which, in evolutionary terms, shouldnt be able to interbreed) would be unable to account for the vast records of musical acculturation and transculturation. More importantly, the relationship between species and organism is different from the relationship between genre and performance. Species and genre have some features in commonthey are generalized forms with fuzzy lines whose existence is guessed at through their individual instantiations. But a performance (e.g. singing "happy birthday") and an organism (e.g a desert toad) are different in several important ways. A performance does not come into being or die the way that an organism does. It neither eats nor is eaten. Perhaps most importantly, a performance does not reproduce.11 For all of these reasons, Bruno Nettl is justified in saying that most ethnomusicological applications of evolution reflect a misunderstanding of current evolutionary theory (2006, 67.) However, the fact of a difference between social and biological "evolution" is not in itself a reason to reject all evolution metaphors. Indeed, there is no reason to think of musical evolution as a mere imitation of biological evolution. Evolutionary theory has served as both biological and social theory since before Darwin: Malthuss population studies focused on the problems of distributing food to a growing human population. Darwin himself understood the dangerous social implications of evolution, and grappled extensively with cultural evolution, race, and social welfare (Darwin 1871, 1877). To dismiss a model of musical evolution as morally unacceptable because its
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Although a few recent developments in genetics indicate that there are certain, limited circumstances in which genotypes can change in the course of an organism's lifetime, none of these amount to simple Lamarckian inheritance. 11 An obvious objection here is that learning a song by ear is a case of a performance reproducing itself. But if I learn "Happy Birthday" by hearing it at birthday parties, I may hum it idly at the bus stop, or sing it in jest upon delivering a pile of corn for my friend to shuck. The abstractable, generic form of the song, not the singular, context-imbedded performance, is reproducing.

foundational metaphors are scientifically unacceptable is to grant moral authority to the scientific method. This is not only confusing; it deflects our attention from evaluating the moral and political implications of individual evolutionary models. After all, no amount of scientific rigor could make genocide morally acceptable. Scientists do not, and perhaps never will, agree about the details of evolutionary processes. A debate continues over whether and in what sense evolution may be progressive (see Gould 1997, Sterelny 2001, Wright 2000). There also are ways of explicitly viewing evolution and development as distinct and yet analogous processes (see Richardson 2002, Gebser 1985, Wilber 1995). Though these vary largely in their rigor and need to be evaluated individually, the very idea of such an analogy between distinct processes is no more a misunderstanding than speaking metaphorically of musical roots or influences. Many common and perfectly clear usages of the word "evolution" (e.g. "the evolution of Joni Mitchell's songwriting style," "the evolution of Tim's writing skills," "the evolution of nuclear warheads") imply directed progress, and we know exactly what the speaker means. Nonetheless, evolution and development are distinct processes. Linking them by analogy, though possible, requires specificity. Left unqualified, to say that one music is more evolved than another implies that it is simply better. As far back as 1892, Thomas Huxley pointed out the problems of carelessly applying this analogy: We commonly use 'fittest' in a good sense, with the understood connotation of 'best'; and 'best' we are apt to take in its ethical sense. But the 'fittest' which survives in the struggle for existence may be, and often is, the ethically worst(1903 [1892], 220). The sense in which nuclear warheads have gotten "better," for example, is that they are now able to kill more people. The language of biology has great rhetorical power as an emblem of timeless objectivity and universality. And yet the two very different notions of evolution that I have sketched here are products of specific times. Progressive evolution, in the early 20th century, emphasized modern values of progress: times arrow pointed toward a better tomorrow. Situated evolution, roughly post-World War II, and especially since Goulds work in the 1970s, emphasizes relativism, a vast diversity of lineages, and an emphasis on context. The replacement of progressive evolution by situated might be seen as a stage in the progressive evolution of human knowledge. In keeping with the relativistic spirit of our times, however, it might instead be described as an evolutionary adaptation to our intellectual climate. In fifty years, no doubt, things will look different again.

In support of his evolutionary project, Swami Prajnananda quotes Cecil Grey: In no art, science, or other department of human activity has the doctrine of evolution been so enthusiastically welcomed, so eagerly adopted, and so wholeheartedly endorsed, as in music (1960, 6). In retrospect, we may read this as praise or criticism. But in order to speak meaningfully about changes in music over the course of centuries or millenniastretches of time that no human being has ever experienced personallywe must speak metaphorically. Whether we speak of roots, development, or adaptation, the entailments of our chosen metaphors will structure how we see and hear music.

References Bor, Joep 1975

"Raga, Species, and Evolution." Journal of the Sangit Natak Academy 35:17-48.

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Darwin, Francis. 1887 Life and Letters of Charles Darwin. London: John Murray. Eddy, Chuck 2005 The Accidental Evolution of Rock 'n' Roll: A Misguided Tour Through Popular Music. Westview Press. Gebser, J. 1985. The Ever-Present Origin. Athens: Ohio Univ. Press. Gould, Stephen Jay 1997 "Evolution: The Pleasures of Pluralism." New York Review of Books 44(11.) 1976 "Darwin's Untimely Burial," Natural History 85: 24-30. Grauer, Victor 2006 "Echoes of Our Forgotten Ancestors" World of Music 48(2): 5-59. !Haeckel,! !E!. 1874 Anthropogenie oder Entwickelungsgeschichte des Menschen. Engelmann, Leipzig. Huxley, Thomas Henry 1903 Life and letters of Thomas Henry Huxley, Vol 2. London: Macmillan and Co Jairazbhoy, Nazir. 1995 The Rags of North Indian Music. Bombay: Popular Prakashan Pvt. Ltd. Lakoff, George, and Mark Johnson 1980 Metaphors We Live By. Chicago: University of Chicago Press Nelson, Richard

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Solie, Ruth. 1980 "The Living Work: Organicism and Musical Analysis." 19th-Century Music 4 (2) 147-56. Van Der Meer, Wim 1975 "Cultural Evolution: A case study of Indian Music." Journal of the Sangit Natak Academy 35:49-65. Wilber, Ken 1995 Sex, Ecology, Spirituality: The Spirit of Evolution. Shambhala: Boston and London. Wright, Robert 2000 Nonzero: The Logic of Human Destiny. Little and Brown

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