39 MUSIC AND COMMUNICATION Richard Ashley Introduction That music communicates in some way or other is a commonplace—but what does this mean and how does this process of communication operate? When we speak of com- munication we always work in the shadow of language as the touchstone of human communication—and clearly, however one defines music, it differs greatly from language. To work through this question and to disentangle music as communication from language as communication, this chapter will provide a framework for considering human com- munication broadly, and then locate musical behaviors more specifically within that frame- work. We will need to consider many topics covered in this Companion (sce, inter alia, those by Clarke, Bitan, Fachner, Gjerdingen, Henry & Grahn, Margulis, Timmers, and Zbikowski) from the standpoint of communication, limiting ourselves largely to Western tonal music for tractability’s sake. Framing Human Communication ‘Communication takes place through action; thus, the overall stance of this Companion—that music is best understood as varieties of human action (Snuall, 1998)—opens the door to seeing music as communicative in a distinctively human way (Blacking, 1973; but see also Gingras, this volume). Many species of animals communicate, for example using vocal calls or visual displays. Yet, communication between humans is of a different order from the com- miunicative actions found in other species, even our closest primate relatives. What about human communication is special? ‘The definition of communication I will use here is action intended to bring about alignment or coordination of states between individuals. This definition may benefit from some unpacking through examples. Alignment of states can mean understanding the same set of facts, for example by me telling you “My daughter's birthday was yesterday”; after I have done this, you and I share a common knowledge state and our views of the world, at least with respect to my daughter's birthday, are aligned. Alternately, I can communicate my mood to you by sighing, having a morose facial expression, and slumping my shoulders; here you may not know precisely what Iam feeling or why, but you are able to observe my appearance and 479Richard Ashley nuke inferences about my affective state; your view of my emotions, if not your own feeling state, is becoming aligned with my mood. Or, I can indicate that you should move to some location, whether I indicate this through words or some visual means, such as pointing or gesturing. When you in fact move to that location, your behavior aligns your spatial and movement states with my intentions. In some situations, as for example basketball players seeking to score points, where one player moving in a certain manner toward a location on the court communicates to a teammate where and how he should move, the process need not be face to face and highly channeled In all these situations, it is recognition that some actions are intended to be communicative that allows communication to in fact take place. Understanding the intentions of a communicat- ing partner is the essential clement of human communication, An eminent researcher in human and primate communication writes: “The proposal is thus that human cooperative communication—whether using ‘natural’ gestures or ‘arbitrary’ conventions—is one instance, albeit a special instance, of uniquely human cooperative activity relying on shared inten tionality” (Tomasello, 2008, p. 7). There is a venerable history of thought centering on the centrality of intention, cooperation, and coordination to human communication; a brief discussion follows. Communication, Cooperation, and Coordination ‘Tomasello’s statement, above, foregrounds cooperation as the touchstone of human commu- nicative activity, Humans communicate to enable cooperation with one another, and do so effectively. What does “cooperation” mean in this context? It means to act jointly in the service of achieving mutual goals. Communication is thus inherently a multiagent activity carried out in real time, with incomplete knowledge of the situation, Part of the challenge of communi- cation is to get communicative partners to adequately share knowledge states, or “common ground” (Clark, 1996). If common ground is sufficient, communication and coordination can take place with minimal interactions, For example, if two persons are told they shall be rewarded if they pick the same square from a board with three blue squares and one red square, the odds are they will, even without discussing the matter, pick the red square, as it is most different and therefore salient. The structure of the visual environment, available to both players, provides the needed assistance and common ground for communicative coop eration to occur. Many current approaches to communication-as-cooperation stem from the work of H. Paul Grice (collected in Grice, 1989). An carly topic for Grice was meaning. Grice distinguished between natural meaning, for example “those spots mean she has measles” or “those clouds mean that it will rain,’ and non-natural meaning, for example “I mean that you'll be cold dressed like that.” In natural meaning, we notice or infer states of affairs in the world but do not ascribe communicative intent to some agent, whereas such communica~ tive intent is the crux of non-natural meaning; most normal communicative actions seck to make themselves, and their intention to communicate, clearly known, or ostensive (Sperber & ‘Wilson, 1985). A later topic, for which Grice is best known, is the Cooperative Principle and the niaxins of communicative behavior that accompany it. The Cooperative Principle states that one should “Make your contribution such as is required, at the stage at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose or direction of the talk exchange in which you are engaged.” The natural setting for this advice is spoken dialog between two or more people, but Grice allows for nonverbal situations as well, such as cooking or repairing a car, where one’s contribution 480Music and Communication can be handing a partner an appropriate implement or tool, without speaking. Appropriate actions—communicative in nature—are taken at the right time and in the right manner to further common goals. Methods of communication may be ad hoc, as with hand gestures accompanying speech which are unrehearsed and carry no culturally conventional set meanings (Kendon, 2004), or they may utilize highly conventionalized means, including languages. The ways in which actions and signals are conventionalized by humans to further cooperation have long been noted, as for example by Hume (1739) ‘When this commion sense of interest is mutually expressd, and is known to both, it produces a suitable resolution and behaviour. And this may properly enough be call’d a convention or agreement betwixt us, tho’ without the interposition of a promise; since the actions of each of us have a reference to those of the other, and are perform’ upon the supposition, that something is to be perform’d on the other part. 'Fwo men, who pull the oars of a boat, do it by an agreement or convention, tho’ they have never given promises to each other: More modern treatments of this topic have developed these notions considerably (c.g. Lewis, 1969), including conditions that enable and enhance human interaction. Levin son outlines his view of the “human interaction engine,” and what makes it work: responses are to actions or intentions, not to behaviors. . . a sintulation of the other's simulation of oneself is also involved . . . language does not actually code the crucial actions being performed—these are nearly always inferred, or indirectly con- veyed . .. interaction is characterized by action chains and sequences . .. is character ized by expectation of close timing .. . is governed not by rule but by expectation, (Levinson, 2006, pp. 45-46) Levinson is not discussing music in his chapter, but the connections with music are obvi- ous: the primacy of intending and recognizing intention, the non-necessity of language compared to processes of inference, and the dynamic nature of actions, sequences, and expectations. Music, Language, and Communication With human communication thus framed as the promotion of cooperation and coordina- tion between people in interaction, both language and music fall neatly into place as poten tially communicative. There are significant overlaps between music and language, including the neural systems that subserve them, their use of deliberate and contrastive pitch trajecto- ries, and the use of timing to communicate structural divisions in sound sequences (Patel, 2008; Besson, Barbaroux, & Dittenger, this volume). Musical structure, like language, is complicated in its sequencing and organization, but there are also nontrivial differences between the two. The most striking difference between language and music is the absence, in music, of propositional or semantic content—that aspect of meaning in language that lets us make state- ments about states of affairs, and evaluate the truth of such statements, In language we speak of this as reference—the use of language to indicate or point to states of affairs, The ability of | 481Richard Ashley a speaker to precisely orient the knowledge states of other persons and thus influence, direct, and delimit the actions predicated on such knowledge states, is a highly evolved function of human languages. It is through language that our intentions may be most clearly and unam- biguously expressed. Music’s lack of semantic content gives rise to what Cross has notably called music’s “foating intentionality” (Cross, 2005), and this lack of semantic content has always been a problem for some wishing to understand music as communication; here, however, semantic aspects of language are understood as a means to an end, rather than the end itself (cf. Austin, 1962; Searle, 1969; Sperber & Wilson, 1985; Clark, 1996). Whatever “sense” there is in music, then, it is not denotative but connotative, and is ambiguous rather than precise. It is this ambiguity that allows music to be flexible in how listeners interpret it, and in that way is more like the allusive and evocative language of poetry than it is like finely honed prose A second way in which music and language differ is in the status of grammar or syntax. Syntax is essential for the precise sense-muaking aspects of language to work properly. Such seemingly simple matters as knowing which noun is the subject and which is the object in a sentence are of critical importance, and a syntactic error can render an utterance either wrong or unintelligible. In the case of Western tonal music, it is much less clear what syntax or gram- mar may entail, and to what degree it matters. The reader is encouraged to compare the varied ways in which the three chapters of this Companion (by Shanahan, Gjerdingen, and Temperley & De Clerg) dealing with the structure of tonal music describe musical syntax, which when put in dialog with one another raise a number of important questions. Are musical structures to be understood as primarily predicated on rules about chord progressions? If so, what do we make of the differences between the progressions found in “classical” music and those found in rock? Is syntax in music conventionally fixed, or is it more fluid and probabilistic? Whatever musical syntax and grammar may be, it is clear that they are less determinate and less determinative than in language; a wrong note or chord may be glossed over or forgotten quickly as the music proceeds on its way, but a wrong word may render a sentence unintel~ ligible in a manner which damages all comprehension of the following discourse. Musical Structure and Communication Music may lack precise meaning and determinate syntax, but like language it allows people to find and make use of common ground. The position taken here is that this is the primary purpose of musical structure: to allow all of the participants in a musical environment the ability to perceive or discover ways they have of aligning and coordinating with one another, and to act upon those possibilities. If musical structure communicates, we confront a para- digmatic case of musical communication: a composer (or improviser), who, like a speaker in language, communicates to a listener (Cone, 1974). ‘The composer provides musical struc tures to the listener, and wishes the listener to make use of, to follow along with, and so to comprehend these structures, in all likelihood intuitively rather than analytically, Let us consider some aspects of musical structure that facilitate these kinds of alignments and coor dination between the minds of composer and listener. Melodic Structures Western music's structure makes use of both general principles and style-specific materi- als and processes, both of which contribute to a listener's ability to understand the music. 482Music and Communication For example, basic melodic tendencies facilitate perception and allow listeners to predict continuations, tuning into a melody: A melodic move up by step from a first note to a sec ond one inaplies that the third note will be higher than its predecessor, and will be a small dlistance—perhaps a step—away from it. Contrastingly, a large leap up from the first to the second note implies that the third note will be lower than the second, thus filling in the regis- tral gap created by the leap. Such melodic tendencies (Narmour, 1990; Shanahan, this vol- ume) can be found in many styles of music and listeners become acquainted with them from carly in life. They may be ultimately grounded in a balance-point between the possibilities and limits of the vocal system, where some sound sequences are simply easier or harder to produce than others, and the need to create the acoustic contrasts on which patterns in both speech and music are predicated. These basic melodic tendencies are everywhere present to the infant and the child, in the same way as the natural phenomena Grice uses in discussing non-natural meaning. All composers and listeners have mutual access to them and can use them in their musical sense-making. Eventually they become highly overlearned and serve as the foundation for listeners’ ability to comprehend novel melodies, and their expectations of the norms of melodic structure. Beyond these basic or primal structural principles, lis~ teners experienced in specific styles will become well-versed in the patterns used in those styles, whether the formulaic cadences of Western art music or the syncopated, angular rhythms of a jazz composition by Thelonius Monk. The gradual learning of such stylistic conventions—like the acquisition of a language and its conventional forms—allows them to also be used in the construction of common ground (Gjerdingen, this volume) Sequential Structures Musical structure is more complicated than note-to-note melodic successions. Tonality pro- vides for a sense of departure from, and return to, points of stability and patterns of tension and release. ‘The possibilities so afforded by tonality, in interaction with rhythmic structure, allow composers to build hierarchic structures of considerable complexity. These structures potentially provide listeners with the means by which they may keep themselves abreast of where they are in the music’s hierarchical organization. However, as surveyed in my other chapter in this Companion, listeners are quite constrained in their cognitive abilities to follow the development of such larger structures, leading some to propose that all musical listen ing is local in scope. These limitations are ameliorated, however, by listeners’ abilities to use features like cadential formulas and other stylistically conventionalized patterns indicating formal functions such as beginnings, middles, or ends of musical sections. A listener may not know how she got to a closing point, but she knows she’s there, with the help of such musical conventions, Contrapuntal Structures One immediately apparent difference between speech and music lies in their typical density or texture—to use musical terms, speech is monophonic and music is polyphonic, Atten- tion is a scarce cognitive resource, and communication through speech typically maximizes attention by the mechanism of turn taking, where only one participant speaks at a time; exceptions to this are rare (interruption, talking over someone, and the like, which are con- traventions of polite verbal behaviors). The timing of turn taking provides evidence of the role of expectation in dialog, as one speaker typically begins after his interlocutor concludes, 483Richard Ashley with hardly a gap (Sacks, Schegloff, & Jefferson, 1974). In music, where simultaneity of voices or lines is the typical rather than the exceptional case, the problem of hearing mul- tiple voices is not avoided through monophony but rather is solved through differentiating voices by rhythm, spacing in the frequency domnain, providing each voice with a predictable melodic path, and sometimes other factors such as different timbres (sce chapters by Gjerdin- gen, Shanahan, and McAdams & Goodchild, this volume) Such compositional techniques make it possible for a listener's attention to weave through multivoice textures—but what sense do these textures make? One approach is to view such textures as a kind of play, or interplay, between musical events conceived of as either active agents themselves or as quasi-linguistic units functioning in ways parallel to the usage of thetorical units in language (McCreless, 2002). ‘The interpretation of individual parts or lines as active agents in the musical texture is in part contextual. In a simple case, listeners take music-as-sound as evidence of ostensive display by participants in a musical “conver~ sation.” In many musical contexts, different lines in the texture are performed by different musicians; this has its Western origins in the grand tradition of vocal polyphony. Even when technologies (such as keyboard or plucked string instruments) permit a single per produce multiple lines simultaneously, the mapping of one line (voice) to one performer (voice) remains strong, String quartet members speak of their ensemble interaction as a “conversation,” despite the fact that much of what they do is given in the musical score, with their role focused on the how of the musical utterance (Blum, 1996). A yet mioze straightforward parallel to linguistic conversation is found in jazz improvisation, where the interactions between players bring together practiced behaviors and spontaneous responses to one another (Berliner, 1994; Monson, 1997; Vuust & Kringelback, this volume). From the relatively clear case of jazz musicians responding to one another’s flourishes and feints, to the “virtual performers” one may hear in the diverse contrapuntal lines of a Bach key board movement, listeners respond to the energy and vitality of musical lines interacting as if they were the result of intentionally guided ensemble music making. The patterns we hear in a musical style have their roots in embodied acts of music making over the centuries, even if the music we hear is far removed from the physical presence and action of performers (cf. Brovig-Hanssen & Danielsen, this volume). former to ‘Musical Structure and Emotion It is in the domain of emotion that a case for musical communication may most perhaps eas- ily be made, which has been done by many scholars in in many ways. Timmers (this volume) provides an excellent introduction; here we engage only some important aspects of music and emotion. We begin by recognizing that listeners routinely report that music represents, expresses, or communicates emotions, sometimes resulting in very powerful experiences (Dissanayake, 2009; Gabrielsson, 2011), and we seek the reasons for this first of all in aspects of musical structuze—the “what” of a musical signal. The communicator here is understood to be the composer, who is intending to send an emotionally communicative message to the listener via the music. When a composer makes certain choices, the emotional “cast” of the music begins to be framed quickly. Mode (major vs. minor) and tempo (faster vs. slower) are two of the most influential aspects of a work's structure determining its attributed or expe rienced affect; the role of such compositional choices on the perceived or felt affect of music has been discussed in depth since the Afjektenlehe of the 1700s. Ceteris paribus, minor mode and/or slower tempo are indicative of negative valence, as opposed to positive valence with 484Music and Communication major mode and/or faster tempo. Such responses can be found even when the processing of other aspects of musical structure is compromised, for example by brain damage (Peretz, Gagnon, & Bouchard, 1998). However, mode and tempo are broad-brush aspects of music indeed, and a wealth of musical details are enclosed within such parametric wrappers. These may include important, perceptually salient musical intervals that have either “innate” or culturally-conventional communicative connotations (Cooke, 1959; Curtis & Bharucha, 2010). On a somewhat larger scale are musical motifs or gestures which serve as either frequent but not invariable associations or signs in the semiotic/Peirceian sense, pointing to some clear referent which would be known to a listener (Hatten, 1994; Mirka & Agawu, 2008). Scholars of Western art music sometimes call these stylistically lexicalized materials “topics,” which include the “heroic” and the “pastoral” (Mirka, 2016), but music for film and television contains rich inventories as well (Tagg, 1979); such signs or topics suggest, but are not limited to, emo- tional connotations which go beyond simple valenced responses, This is certainly the case for music which might invoke the pastoral or heroic—complex notions, culturally and emotionall ‘The other great role of musical structure in creating emotion lies in the interplay between structure's implications and a listener's expectations (Meyer, 1956). Interaction, including communicative interaction, involves expectation (as in the quote above from Levinson) Musical structure sets up certain implications for what events should come next, and when they should occur, as in the simple melodic example presented earlier in the chapter, The way a composer (or performer) plays with such implications and their realizations engages the listener in many ways, including psychophysiologically through the reward systems of the brain. This topic is dealt with by other chapters of this Companion (see those by Granot, ‘Timmers, and Margulis) and has been refined greatly in the years since Meyer's pioneering essay (cf, Huron, 2006). The reader is directed to these sources for further treatment; here we note only that the listener recognizes the composer's intent to create emotion through structuring the music’s twists and turns, struggles and resolutions. Musical Performance and Communication ‘The other paradigmatically communicative situation in music is that of the performer (speaker) playing for an audience (listeners). We will consider musical performance as com- municating about musical structure and musical emotion, beginning with structure. One role of performers is to communicate information about musical structure to listeners. Music is structured rather than random; without some implicit or explicit understanding of that structure, listeners may be disinterested, frustrated, or “lost” (Margulis, this volume). For listeners to be aligned with the process of the music, they must be able to follow its structure and flow. Performers facilitate this process by their actions, which serve to clarify the music’s structure for the listener. What this means is that performers are constantly inflecting and modulating the salience of details in the music musical surface through changes in the loud~ ness, duration, and timbre of musical events. Even though some of these variations are simply the result of random factors, like the “noise” or variability in any sequence of human actions (Henry & Grahn, this volume), performers are able to be intentional about their actions with regard to musical structure in ways that clarify that structure (Palmer, 1997). ‘An obvious way in which performers clarify musical structure is by playing the more important line in a texture more loudly; even young musicians, such as those in school bands, 485Richard Ashley are instructed in this. On a more sophisticated level, one effective and well-researched tech- nique used by performers to clarify musical structure for the listener is through timing: altering the nominal, notated, or “mathematically precise” rhythm of the music (Martens & Benadon, this volume). Systematic, as well as random, variation in rhythmic interpretation is one of the best-attested aspects of expressive performance, not only at the note-to-note level but also at higher levels of structure, In hierarchically structured works like of those of the Western art music tradition, this evidences itself in a performer's slowing of the tempo as the end of a section of the music is approaching. The degree of slowing may vary with the hierarchic importance of the ending, with more slowing being one way, although neither definitive nor obligatory, of indicating the ends of larger, more structurally important tine spans, Changes in duration at smaller timescales also help to indicate meter, where different positions in the metric cycle are lengthened or shortened systematically, communicating the cycle as well as the tactus or pulse, And, in jazz, where a melody is played with rhyth- mic freedom over a steady beat, rhythmic variations serve to clarify motivie structure, by transforming the rhythm of recurring motives in the same way, enhancing their categori- cal similarities to one another, and also by marking phrase and section endings. Through these variations in performance, the soloist is helping the listener keep track of the music’s underlying structure while enjoying the flux and flow of the musical surface (Ashley, 2002). ‘The bodily movements of performers can also provide information to an audience in the form of expressive or ancillary movements, those which are not essential for the production of sounds (see Bishop & Goebl, this volume). Both local details, such as dissonant nonhar~ monic tones, and larger structural features, such as phrase endings, can be and often are communicated in the visual modality through bodily movements, providing a multimodal, multichannel communicative stream to the listener parallel in some ways to that seen with speech and gesture (Kendon, 2004). And, of course, visual cues from a performers body give information not only about structure, but also about affect; processes of empathy and cmotional contagion always take place when we can interpret someone's face or body as reflective of an affective state (Juslin & Vistfjill, 2008). Music and Interpersonal Coordination ‘To conclude this survey of musical communication, we note another everyday way in which music is deemed communicative: its ability to let people feel that they are “in touch” with cach other. Entrainment—aligning the movement of one’s body with an external pulse (see Henry and Grahn, this volume)—is one of the most obvious and interesting ways in which music enables interpersonal coordination, as individuals line up their motor systems with one another, through dance, bobbing heads, participating in a drum circle, or other activi- ties, whether overt or inner. Although some nonhuman species can entrain to music, this ability is not widespread in the animal kingdom (Gringas, this volume), and evidently has a genetic basis. Some scholars have seen connections between mutual entrainment—the shythmic alignment and interplay of two or more human bodies—to what has come to be called communicative musicality (Dissanayake, 2009). ‘This framework has its roots in theories of the psychological and emotional connections between mothers and their infants, where various actions—vocalizations, movements of the limbs, breathing—are all intertwined and temporally connected with one another. The human capacity for entyainment—aligning with the rhythmic aspects of an external stimulus—thus is scen at the earliest stages of life The evolutionary advantages of a mother feeling so connected to her infant as they interact, 486Music and Communication by movement or by vocalizations, as with infant-directed speech, are obvious in our species, where the young are unable to care for themselves for so much of their lives One need not be moving along with music in the company of others in order to feel connected and aligned with them. In their studies of adolescents’ use of music for self regulation, Saarikallio and Erkkili (2007) define a number of regulatory strategies which emerged from the comments of their informants. Among these was “solace,” where a young person, listening alone to music would fe you feel that I have experienced so much the same as him [the singer], then they kind of fit into my life, too, and then like comfort in some way” (Saarikallio & Erkkilé 2007, p. 100)—even though the composers or performers were personally unknown to the lis tener, and were nowhere in sight. Such is the power of music to create a sense of inter personal alignment and connection, despite distance in space and time and incomplete knowledge of the other person, More broadly, the potential for music to facilitate a sense of unity among people has been proposed as important for the development of our species as a whole (Mithen, 2005) and continues to fascinate researchers interested in social cohesion (Koelsch, & Stegemann, 2012) understood and comforted: “... when Conclusions and Further Directions In the earlier decades of research in music cognition, investigators primarily focused on per~ ception of carefully controlled stimuli with little communicative potential. More recently, the use of more ecologically realistic materials has opened the door for studies of musical com- munication, This chapter has identified a number of primary aspects of such communication which have been focal, particularly the communication of musical structure and of emotion. ‘We have learned much from these studies, and yet the interactive aspect of musical commu- nication has been but litle examined, Broadly speaking, the cognitive sciences are beginning to address cognition beyond the soundproof booth in the laboratory, where people respond to one another and are co-participants in culture, including musical culture (Lamont, this volume). To more fully understand music as communication, research paradigms are needed which conceive of communication less as one-way channeling of information from com- posers or performers to listeners and miore as active, foraging behaviors by listeners (Clarke, this volume). The reader who explores the chapters of this Companion with that thought in mind will find a multitude of possibilities suggested for such investigations, including music alone and with others, “own” ys. “other” musical cultures, and the multiplicity of under standings and meanings even one listener can find in only one piece of music Core Reading Blacking, J. (1973) How musical is man? Seattle, WA: University of Washington Press Grice, H. P. (1989). Studies in the way of words. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press Juslin, P, & Vastfjll, D. (2008). Emotional responses to music: The need to consider underlying mechanisms. Behavioral and Brain Science, 31, 559-621 Kendon, A. (2004), Gesture: Visible action as utterance. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press Levinson, S. C. (2006). On the human “interaction engine” In: N. J. Enfield, & S. C. Levinson (Eds), Roots of human sociality: Culture, cognition and interaction (pp. 9-69). Oxford: Berg Small, C. (1998). Musicking: The meanings of performing and listening, Middletown, CT: Wesleyan Uni- versity Press ‘Tomasello, M. (2008). Origins of human communication. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. 487Richard Ashley Further References R. (2002). Dofn't] change a hair for me: The art of jazz rubato. Music Perception, 19 (3) 32. Austin, J.L. (1962). How fo do things with words. Oxford: Oxford University Press Berliner, P. (1994). Thinking in jazz: The infinite art of improvisation. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press Blum, D. (1986) The art of quartet playing: The Guarneri Quartet in conversation. New York, NY: Alfred Knopf. Clark, H. (1996). Using language. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press Cone, E. (1974) The composer's voice. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press Cooke, D. (1959). The language of music. Oxford: Oxford University Press Curtis, M.E,, & Bharucha, J.J. (2010). The minor third communicates sadness in speech, mirroring its use in music. Emotion 10, 335-348, Cross,I. (2005). Music and meaning, ambiguity and emotion. In D, Miell, D, Hargreaves, & R. Macdonald (Eds). Musical communication (pp. 27-34). Oxford: Oxford University Press Dissanayake, E. (2009) Root, leaf, blossom, or bole: Concerning the origin and adaptive function of music. In $, Malloch, & C. Trevarthen (Eds.), Communicative musicality (pp. 17-30). Oxford: ‘Oxford University Press Gabriclsson, A. (2011) Strong experiences with music. Oxford: Oxford University Press Hatten, R. (1994). Musical meaning in Beethoven: Markedness, correlation, and interpretation, Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press Hume, D. (1739). A treatise of human nature. London: John Noon. Huron, D. (2006), Sweet anticipation: Music and the psychology of expectation. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Koelsch, S., & Stegemann, T. (2012). ‘The brain and positive biological effects in healthy and clini- cal populations. In R. McDonald, G. Kreutz, & L, Mitchell (Eds.), Music, health, and wellbeing (436456). Oxford: Oxford University Press Lewis, D. (1969). Convention. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press McCreless, P. (2002). Music and rhetoric. In ‘T. Christensen (Ed.), Cambridge history of Western music theory (pp. 845-879). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press Meyer, L. (1956). Emotion and meaning in music. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press Mirka, D. (Ed) (2016). Oxford handbook of topic theory. Oxford: Oxford University Press Mika, D., & Agawu, K. (Eds) (2008), Communication in eighteenth-century music. Cambridge: Cam- bridge University Press. Mithen, S. (2005). The singing Neanderthals: Origins of music, language, mind, and body. London: Weiden- feld and Nicolson, Monson, I. (1997). Saying something: Jaz= improvisation and interaction, Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press Narmour, E. (1990) The analysis and cognition of basic melodic structures, Chicago, IL: University of Chi- cago Press. Palmer, C. (1997). Music Performance. Annual Review of Psychology, 48, 115-138 Patel, A. (2008). Music, language, and the brain. Oxford: Oxford Unversity Press Peretz, I., Gagnon, L., & Bouchard, B. (1998). Music and emotion: perceptual determinants, imme- diacy and isolation after brain damage. Cognition, 68, 111-141 Saarikallio, S., & Erkkili, J. (2007). The role of music in adolescents’ mood regulation. Psychology of Music, 35(1), 88-109, Sacks, H., Schegloff, E., & Jefferson, G. (1974). A simplest systematics for the organization of turn taking for conversation, Language 50, 696-735, Searle, J. (1969). Speech acts: An essay in the philosophy of language. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press Sperber, D,, & Wilson, D. (1985). Relevance: Communication and cognition. Oxford: Blackwell. Tagg, P. (1979). Kojak: 50 Seconds of television music, Goteborg, Sweden: University of Goteborg, 311 488