Not for the first time, a fresh discovery had me reflecting on the nature of "odd music." I perceive our tendency to interpret the term as referring to unorthodox exercises of the musical medium, whether that be creative production or subversive arrangement. "Odd" may be defined as anything unexpected from the "norm;" while an incredibly subjective standard, such is the general understanding of the term that anything more concrete would likely become impractical. "Music" might be more controversial, in the event that its confines were to be questioned. I (unsurprisingly) have a very high view of music, understanding it to be the artform of sound. Art is the exercise of creativity, an expression of the Imago Dei; its various forms reflect different aspects of Creation, and I perceive therein a unique means of experiential communication. The intent of the artist is instilled in his art, a purpose for others to discern as their reception of the effort. Music is particularly proficient at evoking emotion, indicating its foremost utility. Based on these presuppositions, my estimation of a music piece involves inferring the intent behind it, sometimes by context of publication or direct explanation of the musician, but often with a degree of intuition when such information is unavailable.
The specific discovery that launched this train of consideration was Rolin Mains's "Gigue," from his album A Time to Dance. Despite having clear direction, the style of progression portrays itself in haphazard fashion, bouncing about merrily in melody yet retaining a tone of gravity in accompaniment. Ostensibly it's a modern baroque experiment, and I admit to enjoying it very much, but I still came away wondering somewhat at the intended emotional response.
Sometimes conflicted tone is actually the point. Hector Berlioz's "Symphonie fantastique" is a romantic-era composition reportedly meant to depict the drug-trip of a romantically frustrated artist. The composer was himself infatuated with an actress who had hitherto spurned his advances, and the experience inspired him to arrange this symphony. If the listener failed to pay close attention, they'd likely overlook the performance's fluctuating progression, and might not understand its purpose even if they did.
Finally, I came across an instrumental performance of Yann Tiersen's "Rue des cascades." Impressed with the piece, I sought out additional context and found the true composition with its vocal component, and was subsequently confused by the lyrics. When it comes to songs (as opposed to instrumentals), I'm more inclined to restrict my interpretation attempts to the immediate presentation; in this case, I'm left with very little to work with. The tone inclines me to take Cascade Street as metaphorical, but whether it represents a period of life or a state of mind is beyond my ability to infer.
To me, relatively ambiguous arrangements are more fitting of the "odd" designation than pretentiously provocative performances testing the definition of "music." That being said, I'm still regularly surprised and impressed by the things others present, even as they occasionally challenge my preconceptions. So long as intent is sufficiently established, the topic can theoretically serve its purpose without firmly defined explanations, inviting others to share based upon their own perceptions within generally shared confines.