Parkinson and Bell’s article does a great job framing live coding within a spectrum of liveness, with Deadmau5 on one end, focused on spectacle and precision, and Derek Bailey on the other, showcasing spontaneous and real-time improvisation. I found it really interesting how live coding pulls from both these phenomena but carves out its own identity by treating the laptop as an instrument rather than just a playback device.

What resonated with me most was the idea of visibility and transparency, and how projecting the code live makes the compositional process part of the performance. It’s such a contrast to Deadmau5’s polished, pre-sequenced sets. Live coding feels more vulnerable and dynamic, where the performer navigates unpredictability in real time, almost like letting the laptop “speak.”I also liked the comparison to Bailey’s idea of the “instrumental impulse”, and that deep, expressive interaction with the tool. It reminded me that live coding isn’t just about technical skill, but about exploring and responding to the moment. In the end, the piece made me rethink what “live” performance really means, and how it’s not just about physical gestures, but about decision-making, presence, and risk.

I entertain the idea of live coding being the musical instrument itself, as in you treat codes as the musical tools that generate sound waves, similar to how actual musical instruments do. Compared to Deadmau5’s controlled playback, Derek Bailey emphasizes spontaneity and improvisation. This might be daunting to people who have a habit of practicing really well before they perform, but that doesn’t mean it has to be restricted. Although showing codes on the screen can be thought of as revealing what you are working on in secret to the public, the public never knows live coding performers’ next move regardless. Deadmau5’s focus on spectacle doesn’t have to be applied to all kinds of live-coding performances in general. The spectacle itself can be improvised as well, with how the performers structure their performances, tell the music they want to tell, and convey the message.

This reading gave me a new way to think about what it means for music to be “live.” I never thought much about how different musicians use laptops in performance. The comparison between Deadmau5 and Derek Bailey is really interesting. Deadmau5’s shows are big, flashy, and mostly pre-recorded, while Bailey’s performances are improvised and unpredictable. Live coding seems to sit in the middle. It uses computers, but in a way that’s more like playing an instrument in real time.

I liked how the authors talked about the audience being able to see the code on the screen. It is a cool way of showing that something real is happening, even if it’s not physical like playing guitar. It also made me think about how we value “work” in music, sometimes we want to see someone sweating on stage to believe they are doing something real. Overall, I found this piece a bit long and academic, but the core idea of rethinking what counts as live performance is really stuck with me.

I feel that the concept of live coding heavily engages with the idea of free improvisation, a term that appears frequently in research. The contrast and tension between the perspectives of Deadmau5 and Derek Bailey create fascinating discussions within the live coding community, especially the debate between pre-planned performances and starting entirely from scratch. Because of the trade-off between spontaneity and reliability, the notion of free improvisation becomes essential in capturing the “liveness” of a performance since improvisation can exist in both pre-scripted and freestyle live coding contexts. Hence, the definition of the “liveness” becomes a subjective belief during the performance.

It is also interesting to consider the role of the computer. I think it makes sense to treat the computer as a musical instrument, where, instead of plucking a guitar string, we are typing code to produce sound. However, what’s even more interesting is the idea of the computer as a musician. The logic embedded in code sets the rules by which sound is generated, whether random or pre-defined. Because live coding does not necessarily follow traditional music theory, it allows for a type of free improvisation that breaks away from conventional constraints, enabling the computer to function both as instrument and performer.

I found this reading the most interesting so far because it closely relates to a topic I like reading about in general – the difference between DJs who rely on pre-recorded sets and those who genuinely mix tracks live.

I like Deadmau5 for his honesty about playing pre-recorded sets. He openly admits, “I have no shame in admitting that for my ‘unhooked’ sets I just roll up with a laptop and a midi controller, select tracks, and hit the spacebar.” This transparency contrasts sharply with many DJs today who pretend to mix live when they’re merely pressing play.

An example of this problem is Grimes’ performance at Coachella 2024, where technical issues revealed she likely didn’t prepare her own set and probably didn’t even set up her own flash drive which was used for the set. Issues like BPM mismatches could easily be fixed if a DJ understands basic CDJ functionality. Such incidents undermine DJ culture, raising questions about booking practices at major festivals.

I think if you’re mainly a producer and you’re performing your own music, pre-recorded sets can actually make sense – your main skillset is production, not necessarily live DJing. For Deadmau5 or artists like Fisher, that’s okay because it’s their music their showcasing. But if a DJ who’s just playing other people’s tracks does a pre-recorded set, it’s a huge turn-off for me.

Bailey’s views on improvisation highlight the opposite approach. For Bailey, improvisation involves real-time creativity and spontaneous interaction with the instrument. He argues that instruments offer endless sonic possibilities, with improvisation embracing unexpected sounds or “accidents.” This contrasts with the predetermined nature of pre-recorded sets.

It seems like the article is claiming that electronic music scene lacks spontaneity. However, I don’t think this claim is entirely accurate. Artists like the_last_dj on Instagram, who composes techno live, exemplify a practice similar to live coding, where performance and composition occur simultaneously. DJs like Carl Cox and Richie Hawtin sometimes use synthesizers or modular setups in their sets, which lets them create music live and respond to the crowd in real-time. Another example could be Meute, the German marching band that does techno and house covers with actual live instruments. That kind of stuff keeps performances fresh and genuinely spontaneous similar to live coding. Although it is not as common or even seen at major music festivals, it does exist.

CDJs and laptops themselves can serve as improvisational tools if DJs use them to actively read the crowd, selecting and mixing tracks spontaneously. Even if individual tracks aren’t improvised, the DJ’s ability to adapt and respond in real-time can create an authenticnd engaging experience.

I think performance authenticity and audience interaction matter most. Whether through live coding, spontaneous mixing, or live instrumentation, incorporating an element of spontaneity significantly enhances the performance.

The first Deadmau5 song I heard was strobe, and it was quite a while after the song’s release. What really captivated me about the song was the flow of the composition and almost intricate story that the song was trying to convey that is hard to find in mainstream EDM. Looking at the current landscape of edm performance it’s quite evident that artists who are talented in making good drops and build-ups in a sonic sense really dominate the scene (eg: Sara Landry or Oguz in the dark techno genre). These artists also play almost identical sets at different venues. And as the reading suggests the logistical advantage of a predefined set at a large venue is an attractive upside. 

I feel that while DJs create an atmosphere that attracts audiences with pre planned sets. They can use things like strong track selection and manipulation of the tracks to really make a compositional performance. Almost like when an opera singer, who would be singing the same song every interaction but different aspects of the performance would express the singer’s identity better. For example some mainstream Djs like Patrick Mason incorporate extreme dance moves (for a DJ at least) to bring a different dimension to performance that most likely is prerecorded. 

I feel that live coding due to its unique position as a field that is not yet mainstream, but has a rich culture and community position itself in the middle of “free” improvised as seen with Derek Bailey and mainstream Djs who just press play. 

Live coding provides the performer with a larger range of tools through the computer to manipulate what might be a pre-prepared work. A performer can come with basically a vibe or a raw idiomatic motive (for example like “ I want to make every here at the club to feel euphoric today because I remembered a nice memory from my childhood”) that they want share with the audience and then write a few lines of code or even change the current preparation so drastically with a few modifications to steer the expression of the performance, 

One point I found particularly compelling is the idea that artificial nature can evoke emotional responses similar to those triggered by real nature, especially when designed thoughtfully. The text discusses how even simulated environments—like those in theme parks or controlled greenhouses—can evoke feelings of wonder, peace, or introspection, blurring the line between authenticity and imitation. This struck a chord with me because it challenges the often rigid dichotomy we hold between “real” and “fake” nature. For instance, I visited the greenhouses at world expo in Shanghai and found myself genuinely moved by the scale, the attention to detail, and the atmospheric design of the Cloud Forest greenhouse. The text itself is very open the emotional legitimacy of artificial experiences, which I appreciated. It doesn’t dismiss artificiality as hollow or deceptive but rather explores how intention, design, and sensory engagement can make even synthetic environments meaningful.

However, its also important to recognize that the reading also raises deeper questions about sustainability and our evolving relationship with nature: If artificial nature can provide emotional satisfaction, will society start to invest more in simulations and less in preserving real ecosystems? Or could well-designed artificial nature actually help foster a deeper appreciation and urgency to protect what’s left of the natural world?