I FELT… That the book I shall write will be neither in English nor in Latin; and this for the one reason…namely, that the language in which it may be given me not only to write, but also to think, will not be Latin, or English, or Italian, or Spanish, but a language in which dumb things speak to me, and in which, it may be, I shall at last have to respond in my grave to an Unknown Judge. (Hugo Von Hofmannsthal. The Letter of Lord Chandos 1902)

I first became interested in the way electronic music instruments (EMIs) are designed and marketed working at a small music store in the town of San Ysidro which is the southernmost city in California bordering Mexico. Our clientele consisted mainly of musicians and students from Mexico and the U.S., and our interactions were predominantly in Spanish. However, when it came down to discussing electronic music equipment, the use of English was unavoidable. Although it is fairly common to switch between English and Spanish in a border region like San Ysidro and Tijuana, one thing that remains consistent is when it comes to EMI’s, Spanish speakers must adapt to English due to a lack of terminology in labels, manuals, and marketing material in their native tongue. In recent years companies in Mexico like Paradox Effects are engaging with English in ways that illustrate what linguistics scholars refer to as translanguaging. While early scholarship regarding the term is rooted in pedagogy, more recent work in critical and applied linguistics has shown how it can be adapted into a practical theory. My aim is to enlist these practical approaches to reading labels–the actual text printed on the surface of the EMI– and marketing materials of two EMIs designed and manufactured in Mexico to illustrate the tensions between English and Spanish that happen at the interface level. Because language does not affect the functionality of an EMI, I bring into conversation scholarly work from the field of science and technology studies (STS) to parse out the role English plays in both mediation and commercialization, as well as its potential stifling effects on what James Mooney and Trevor Pinch refer to as sonic imaginaries.

  Electronic Music Instruments

There exists a lack of consistency with regards to what is considered an EMI. The list may cover anything from a transistor-based guitar pedal to a complex sequencer that uses MIDI and a microprocessor. Controllers do not make a sound, but mediate between a user and music software. Recording devices record and reproduce sound, and are sometimes treated as instruments. From a legal stand-point, U.S. agencies like the FCC regulate equipment under Title 47 of the Code of Federal Regulations and categorize based on specific concerns regarding their components. The task of taxonomizing EMIs is beyond the scope of this paper, and for the purposes of this discussion, I consider an EMI any electronic device designed for the musician or performer. However, it is helpful to consider the aforementioned perspectives alongside some of the ways in which scholarly work has discussed EMI’s from a technological standpoint.

Bert Bongers provides a useful birds-eye view of the evolution in technology surrounding musical instruments from objects (drums, cymbals) to passive mechanical systems (saxophones, violins) to electric (electric guitars) to the present-day instruments that “are combinations of (successive) technologies” (Bongers 2007: 10). EMIs offer new possibilities for music making and expression, improve workflow and accessibility, and by consequence increase the potential for new users to adopt them. A chronological trace of innovation provides scholars ways to study, unearth, or critically engage with the effects of technology on music-making and sound-recording technology, as is the case of tape music, musique concrete, or sampling. The breadth of academic inquiry has grown exponentially with regards to EMIs. Recent scholarly work surrounding emerging music technology is concerned with the impact they have had on performance and improvisation (Butler 2014), the motivations and desired outcomes when designing new instruments (Emerson/ Eggerman 2018), or the influence on the piano keyboard on interface design (Dolan 2012). The focus of this paper is to bring into light an aspect of design that has evolved into fixity: English is the lingua franca of design and marketing of EMIs. It is the aim of this paper to illustrate how language becomes a shaping force in EMI’s and by casting a critical lens on language practices interesting questions surrounding agency, mediation, and imagination emerge.

  Interface and Labels

EMI labels, marketing materials, and manuals are meant to show what an instrument was intended to be used for. Many users spend time with images or copies of manuals before they are able to physically own an instrument. The words on the interface will usually point to a function, range, or signal flow of the instrument and describe its “affordances” (Gibson 1977, as cited in Butler 2017). The labels and instruction manuals are then an extension of what is often referred to as the “interface.” In Playing Something that Runs, Mark J. Butler discusses the term interface as a type of EMI largely concerned with mediation between a performer and a technology, but extends the definition stating it “denotes something more than simply the mediating technology; in particular, it refers to the actual site of mediation: the surface of the mixing board and sliders, or the graphical representation on the screen of the computer” (2017). Butler’s definition of interface is useful because it illustrates mediation in a way that includes the visual layout of an EMI not just in terms of functionality or at the “macroperception” level (Verbeek 2017). Butler is concerned with the physical design of the instruments and affordances they provide to performers and improvisers. This, however, implies a familiarity with the instrument after spending time working with it. By looking at the practices of two Mexican EMI companies, I problematize the idea of mediation and performance to include language as part of the schema.

  Translanguaging Practice Theory

The term “translanguaging” has its origins in linguistics work concerned with bilingual education. Li Wei states it was “not originally intended as a theoretical concept, but a descriptive label for a specific language practice” (Wei 2017: 15). A definition of “translanguaging” that is helpful to frame this paper is as “the language practices of bilinguals not as two autonomous language systems as has been traditionally the case, but as one linguistic repertoire with features that have been societally constructed as belonging to two separate languages” (García Wei 2108: 2). In Translanguaging as a Practical Theory, Li presents a way in which the term can be extended into a practical approach to language practices beyond the classroom. Another important feature of Wei’s approach is that it is meant “not to offer predictions or solutions but interpretations that can be used to observe, interpret, and understand other practices and phenomena” (11). I agree with this method because my intention with interpreting the language practices in my case studies is not to speculate on the future practices of Mexican designers or present the pervasiveness of English as a problem, but rather activate a new line of inquiry that pertains to agency and technological innovation.

  Materiality of Language

The spread of English across the world has often been studied as a result of globalization, cultural hegemony, and a homogenization of culture. My aim is not to delve deep into the causes and effects of this phenomenon, but to enlist the word of critical linguistics to illustrate the localized ways in which English is employed by two EMIs designed by Mexican companies who design, build, and market their products in Mexico to the rest of the world. To clarify, my first case study, Paradox Effects and their guitar pedal Fuzz E Cat, is located in Tijuana, Mexico, within the border region; and my second case study is Bocuma Synths, located in Guadalajara, Mexico, 2,200km south of the border. Although it would be a monumental task to describe the different relationships both companies have to English from a geographical and cultural standpoint, it could provide insight into the differences and similarities in their translanguaging practices.

Another important reason why I chose a translanguaging practice theory as a method is because it allows me to cast my peers and interlocutors within a more robust framework of agency. I argue that having a single language to learn, discuss, create, and ontologize sonic phenomena stifles creativity. In Decolonising the Mind, Ngũgĩ Wa Thiong'o argues that “language, any language, has a dual character: it is a means of communication and a carrier of culture” (Thiong’o 1986: 13). This does not mean, however, that companies are unable to reappropriate the English language to make new instruments representative of their vision. The scope of this paper does not explore the relationship language has to sonic phenomena, as it is part of a future dissertation work. By bringing translanguaging into the study of EMIs I illustrate how language plays a central role in interface design and mediation. It is worth mentioning that I employ my own position-as-method as a member of the community that I am researching. Therefore my interpretation is both from within the locality and from a theorized perspective.

  Case Study 1: Paradox Effects

To compete in global markets, many products are labeled in English, not just musical instruments. This ebb and flow of global vs. local practices requires more complexity in our thinking of language practices. Linguistic scholar Alastair Pennycook, an important figure in the study of global Englishes, states that

The multidimensional nature of both dominating modes of globalization - corporatization, capitalization, conceptualization - and of resistant and localizing modes - transcul-turation, translocalization, transformation - lead to very different linguistic and cultural practices than international domination or national localization. It is a far more dynamic space of flows.

According to Pennycook, an effective theorization of linguistic practices along the axes of global vs. local must encompass a definition that allows for more than one form of globalization. One such case is the manner in which Mexico has become a site of outsourcing manufacturing processes for transnational companies.

Efrén Castro, one of the co-founders of Paradox Effects, studied Electronic Engineering at Universidad Autónoma de Baja California. His growing interests in effect pedals began to clash with the school’s focus on the job market. The effects of globalization extend to universities' curricula due to the growing demand for engineers in maquiladoras. In theory, a career in electronic engineering offers a range of possibilities for the graduate, but in practice most roads lead to working for a transnational company in one of their factories. During his time at UABC, Castro, who is also a musician, learned about electronic circuits. He began to tinker with a circuit that is commonly adopted in DIY circles, the fuzz pedal.

In a box sitting in my studio I keep guitar pedals that I obtained when my main instrument was the electric guitar and bass. It doesn’t get much use lately because I shifted my musical practice to synthesizers, but I keep it as part of my collection because it is one the first effect pedals designed, manufactured, and marketed in Tijuana, Mexico by Paradox Effects. The Fuzz-e Cat, as it is called, is “a roaring oscillatory feline, a highly sensitive Fuzz that creates many textures with few controls” (Paradox Effects 2017: para. 1). Although the marketing materials are all in English, the faceplate looks like an electrified cartoon cat with two knobs for eyes which is labeled in Spanish and English. As shown in Figure 1, the left knob is labeled “Volúmen” and the right one “Fuzz” (figure 1).

Figure 1. Fuzz-E Cat effect pedal. Fuzz-E Cat front panel From https://paradoxeffects.com/products/fuzz-e-cat [digital image]
Sound 1. Paradox Effects Fuzz E Cat 100% Oscillation.

In the same manner that the pedal’s zoomorphic design layout only contributes to the aesthetic quality of the pedal, I argue that the use of the word “Volúmen” is a symbolic gesture signaling the nationality and identity of the company. However, at the time of release, Paradox marketed their pedals in English. Having a somewhat strong social media presence, the company posts videos on YouTube, Instagram, and Tik-Tok in Spanish, some of them with English subtitles.

Paradox markets the Fuzz-e Cat as “a silicon based effect, our amorphous take on the Fuzz Face topology” (Paradox Effects 2017: para. 1). The Fuzz Face mentioned in their blurb is a highly regarded effect pedal designed in 1966 by Arbiter Electronics Ltd. and made famous by artists like Jimmy Hendrix. Its circuitry has been reimagined by many effect pedal designers from across the globe due to the ease with which it can be built and modified. But by en-gaging with the Fuzz Face circuit in their product line, Paradox is performing a translocal practice. In other words, by signaling the topology of the famous Fuzz Face as the inspiration for the Fuzz-e Cat, Paradox is staking its claim in a global exchange of ideas surrounding pedal design that extends beyond their locality. The term amor-phous may then extend not only to the arrangement of components in the circuit, but also the combination of languages on the label. By looking at Paradox’s own take on the Fuzz Face circuit we engage in “cross-cultural stud-ies of the use of electronic music technology and instru-ments” (Bakan et al. 1990).

Here, language and material are imbricated. Symbolic language becomes concrete the moment circuit boards are printed and enclosures are painted. While critical linguistics accounts for the usage of English in localities, many times spoken, codified, and appropriated, the practice I am interested in is materialized in metal, paint, printed, and online text. During this process of materiali-zation is when I consider English to become part of the interface of the instrument. Peter Paul Verbeek, a sci-ence and technology studies scholar, employs the term material hermeneutics as a framework for studying rela-tionships between humans and technological objects. Verbeek derives this term from the ideas of Don Ihde, specifically hermeneutic relations. Hermeneutic relations describe how humans and technological artifacts engage with each other. Material Hermeneutics allows for a more robust schema or network in the Latourian sense, to dif-ferentiate more inclusive elements of technological me-diation as actants. I consider this study to be in line with Actor-Network Theory as I unpack and reconfigure ideas commonly taken as given in the study of EMIs. The con-cept of interface or the concept of accessibility require reassessment the moment the pervasiveness of English comes into play.

Returning to the use of the term amorphous, a word used to describe something shapeless or with no clearly defined boundaries, I interpret this as a necessary descriptive act that allows ambivalence for an act that has little precedent in the global market of effect pedals: marketing from a country whose national identity does not read as technologically proficient.

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