While I’m neither a regular listener of Afrobeats nor a musician, the moment I hear it I want to move my body. For me, it’s not the melody, but it’s the steady, undeniable pulse that feels so alive. The reading provided an explanation for this on how Afro-diasporic music is built on multiple interlocking rhythmic patterns that make it inseparable from dance. Microtiming further explains how musicians place notes slightly early or late relative to the strict pulse, delivers the musicians feel to the listerners. This subtle human variance is what turns the static rhythm into a groove. Therefore one can conclude that the human presence itself makes the music feel alive.

This led me to a fascinating question as we shift in class to creating our own beats. We’re building beats not by striking a drum, but by coding. Once the pattern is programmed, it’s static unless we go back and edit it. So, can a beat made this way ever truly feel alive? Can we even create something as subtle and human as microtiming from a keyboard? The reading’s conclusion points toward an exciting answer. Artists aren’t just trying to perfectly imitate human timing with machines. Instead, they are forging a new continuum between body and technology. Expression no longer comes only from a musician’s hands on an instrument, but from the creative dialogue between human intention and digital process. I believe this is where my experience with live coding would fit in. Performing with my own programmed beats, I realize that making them feel alive doesn’t rely on sound alone. The interaction becomes key: by showing the lines of code that create the rhythm, the audience witnesses the architecture of the groove. This transparency can turn a static pattern into a dynamic, embodied experience.