Since there was Phil Spector there must surely have been his opposite, a man who did not layer a wall of sound but instead its opposite, the progenitor of a towering and insurmountable wall of silence, non-layer upon non-layer of the densest quiet imaginable. His production work didn't make him famous but neither did he maniacally shoot a woman in the face on a paranoid bender. Indeed,this hypothetical person probably would have actually made a decent partner or spouse, had he ever gotten to know anyone closely.
Objectors would point out that a wall of silence by definition requires solitude, and I would accept this argument with the mild objection that somewhere in the world there surely is a mime whose destiny it is to love the anti-Spector with all her or his heart, to understand him fully and within that silence to establish an implied overlap of frequency ranges far beyond the scope of human hearing, far beyond the scope of sound itself, a resonant wave field or subnet on which thought and spirit mix freely, a communion of understanding and implication ahead of and around normal speech.
What is the anti-Spector's modus operandi? Simply the removal of noisemaking devices from the grasping range of passersby, beyond the reach of toddlers, drunks, sports fans, hunters, referees, construction workers, experimental guitarists, oboeists, vice principals, cheerleaders, prognosticators and agitators, harpies, candidates for town council, religious proselytizers, stepfathers, argumentative potential divorcees, etc.
It was never your right to scream at her that way, it was never your god-damned right.
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