The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions.

Choose the best answer to

each
question.
Sociologists working in the Chicago School tradition have focused on how rapid or
dramatic
social change causes increases in crime. Just as Durkheim, Marx, Toennies, and
other
European sociologists thought that the rapid changes produced by industrialization
and
urbanization produced crime and disorder, so too did the Chicago School theorists.
The
location of the University of Chicago provided an excellent opportunity for Park,
Burgess, and
McKenzie to study the social ecology of the city. Shaw and McKay found . . . that
areas of the
city characterized by high levels of social disorganization had higher rates of
crime and
delinquency.
In the 1920s and 1930s Chicago, like many American cities, experienced considerable
immigration. Rapid population growth is a disorganizing influence, but growth
resulting from
in-migration of very different people is particularly disruptive. Chicago’s in-
migrants were both
native-born whites and blacks from rural areas and small towns, and foreign
immigrants. The
heavy industry of cities like Chicago, Detroit, and Pittsburgh drew those seeking
opportunities
and new lives. Farmers and villagers from America’s hinterland, like their European
cousins of
whom Durkheim wrote, moved in large numbers into cities. At the start of the
twentieth
century, Americans were predominately a rural population, but by the century’s mid-
point
most lived in urban areas. The social lives of these migrants, as well as those
already living in
the cities they moved to, were disrupted by the differences between urban and rural
life.
According to social disorganization theory, until the social ecology of the ‘‘new
place’’ can
adapt, this rapid change is a criminogenic influence. But most rural migrants, and
even many
of the foreign immigrants to the city, looked like and eventually spoke the same
language as
the natives of the cities into which they moved. These similarities allowed for
more rapid
social integration for these migrants than was the case for African Americans and
most
foreign immigrants.
In these same decades America experienced what has been called ‘‘the great
migration’’: the
massive movement of African Americans out of the rural South and into northern (and
some
southern) cities. The scale of this migration is one of the most dramatic in human
history.
These migrants, unlike their white counterparts, were not integrated into the
cities they now
called home. In fact, most American cities at the end of the twentieth century were
characterized by high levels of racial residential segregation . . . Failure to
integrate these
migrants, coupled with other forces of social disorganization such as crowding,
poverty, and
illness, caused crime rates to climb in the cities, particularly in the segregated
wards and
neighborhoods where the migrants were forced to live.
Foreign immigrants during this period did not look as dramatically different from
the rest of
the population as blacks did, but the migrants from eastern and southern Europe who
came
to American cities did not speak English, and were frequently Catholic, while the
native born
were mostly Protestant. The combination of rapid population growth with the
diversity of
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Sociologists working in the Chicago School tradition have focused on how rapid or
dramatic
social change causes increases in crime. Just as Durkheim, Marx, Toennies, and
other
European sociologists thought that the rapid changes produced by industrialization
and
urbanization produced crime and disorder, so too did the Chicago School theorists.
The
location of the University of Chicago provided an excellent opportunity for Park,
Burgess, and
McKenzie to study the social ecology of the city. Shaw and McKay found . . . that
areas of the
city characterized by high levels of social disorganization had higher rates of
crime and
delinquency.
In the 1920s and 1930s Chicago, like many American cities, experienced considerable
immigration. Rapid population growth is a disorganizing influence, but growth
resulting from
in-migration of very different people is particularly disruptive. Chicago’s in-
migrants were both
native-born whites and blacks from rural areas and small towns, and foreign
immigrants. The
heavy industry of cities like Chicago, Detroit, and Pittsburgh drew those seeking
opportunities
and new lives. Farmers and villagers from America’s hinterland, like their European
cousins of
whom Durkheim wrote, moved in large numbers into cities. At the start of the
twentieth
century, Americans were predominately a rural population, but by the century’s mid-
point
most lived in urban areas. The social lives of these migrants, as well as those
already living in
the cities they moved to, were disrupted by the differences between urban and rural
life.
According to social disorganization theory, until the social ecology of the ‘‘new
place’’ can
adapt, this rapid change is a criminogenic influence. But most rural migrants, and
even many
of the foreign immigrants to the city, looked like and eventually spoke the same
language as
the natives of the cities into which they moved. These similarities allowed for
more rapid
social integration for these migrants than was the case for African Americans and
most
foreign immigrants.
In these same decades America experienced what has been called ‘‘the great
migration’’: the
massive movement of African Americans out of the rural South and into northern (and
some
southern) cities. The scale of this migration is one of the most dramatic in human
history.
These migrants, unlike their white counterparts, were not integrated into the
cities they now
called home. In fact, most American cities at the end of the twentieth century were
characterized by high levels of racial residential segregation . . . Failure to
integrate these
migrants, coupled with other forces of social disorganization such as crowding,
poverty, and
illness, caused crime rates to climb in the cities, particularly in the segregated
wards and
neighborhoods where the migrants were forced to live.
Foreign immigrants during this period did not look as dramatically different from
the rest of
the population as blacks did, but the migrants from eastern and southern Europe who
came
to American cities did not speak English, and were frequently Catholic, while the
native born
were mostly Protestant. The combination of rapid population growth with the
diversity of
those moving into the cities created what the Chicago School sociologists called
social
disorganization.
SubQuestion No : 2
Q.2 The author notes that, “At the start of the twentieth century, Americans were
predominately
a rural population, but by the century’s mid-point most lived in urban areas.”
Which one of
the following statements, if true, does not contradict this statement?
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Sociologists working in the Chicago School tradition have focused on how rapid or
dramatic
social change causes increases in crime. Just as Durkheim, Marx, Toennies, and
other
European sociologists thought that the rapid changes produced by industrialization
and
urbanization produced crime and disorder, so too did the Chicago School theorists.
The
location of the University of Chicago provided an excellent opportunity for Park,
Burgess, and
McKenzie to study the social ecology of the city. Shaw and McKay found . . . that
areas of the
city characterized by high levels of social disorganization had higher rates of
crime and
delinquency.
In the 1920s and 1930s Chicago, like many American cities, experienced considerable
immigration. Rapid population growth is a disorganizing influence, but growth
resulting from
in-migration of very different people is particularly disruptive. Chicago’s in-
migrants were both
native-born whites and blacks from rural areas and small towns, and foreign
immigrants. The
heavy industry of cities like Chicago, Detroit, and Pittsburgh drew those seeking
opportunities
and new lives. Farmers and villagers from America’s hinterland, like their European
cousins of
whom Durkheim wrote, moved in large numbers into cities. At the start of the
twentieth
century, Americans were predominately a rural population, but by the century’s mid-
point
most lived in urban areas. The social lives of these migrants, as well as those
already living in
the cities they moved to, were disrupted by the differences between urban and rural
life.
According to social disorganization theory, until the social ecology of the ‘‘new
place’’ can
adapt, this rapid change is a criminogenic influence. But most rural migrants, and
even many
of the foreign immigrants to the city, looked like and eventually spoke the same
language as
the natives of the cities into which they moved. These similarities allowed for
more rapid
social integration for these migrants than was the case for African Americans and
most
foreign immigrants.
In these same decades America experienced what has been called ‘‘the great
migration’’: the
massive movement of African Americans out of the rural South and into northern (and
some
southern) cities. The scale of this migration is one of the most dramatic in human
history.
These migrants, unlike their white counterparts, were not integrated into the
cities they now
called home. In fact, most American cities at the end of the twentieth century were
characterized by high levels of racial residential segregation . . . Failure to
integrate these
migrants, coupled with other forces of social disorganization such as crowding,
poverty, and
illness, caused crime rates to climb in the cities, particularly in the segregated
wards and
neighborhoods where the migrants were forced to live.
Foreign immigrants during this period did not look as dramatically different from
the rest of
the population as blacks did, but the migrants from eastern and southern Europe who
came
to American cities did not speak English, and were frequently Catholic, while the
native born
were mostly Protestant. The combination of rapid population growth with the
diversity of
those moving into the cities created what the Chicago School sociologists called
social
disorganization.
Comprehension:
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Sociologists working in the Chicago School tradition have focused on how rapid or
dramatic
social change causes increases in crime. Just as Durkheim, Marx, Toennies, and
other
European sociologists thought that the rapid changes produced by industrialization
and
urbanization produced crime and disorder, so too did the Chicago School theorists.
The
location of the University of Chicago provided an excellent opportunity for Park,
Burgess, and
McKenzie to study the social ecology of the city. Shaw and McKay found . . . that
areas of the
city characterized by high levels of social disorganization had higher rates of
crime and
delinquency.
In the 1920s and 1930s Chicago, like many American cities, experienced considerable
immigration. Rapid population growth is a disorganizing influence, but growth
resulting from
in-migration of very different people is particularly disruptive. Chicago’s in-
migrants were both
native-born whites and blacks from rural areas and small towns, and foreign
immigrants. The
heavy industry of cities like Chicago, Detroit, and Pittsburgh drew those seeking
opportunities
and new lives. Farmers and villagers from America’s hinterland, like their European
cousins of
whom Durkheim wrote, moved in large numbers into cities. At the start of the
twentieth
century, Americans were predominately a rural population, but by the century’s mid-
point
most lived in urban areas. The social lives of these migrants, as well as those
already living in
the cities they moved to, were disrupted by the differences between urban and rural
life.
According to social disorganization theory, until the social ecology of the ‘‘new
place’’ can
adapt, this rapid change is a criminogenic influence. But most rural migrants, and
even many
of the foreign immigrants to the city, looked like and eventually spoke the same
language as
the natives of the cities into which they moved. These similarities allowed for
more rapid
social integration for these migrants than was the case for African Americans and
most
foreign immigrants.
In these same decades America experienced what has been called ‘‘the great
migration’’: the
massive movement of African Americans out of the rural South and into northern (and
some
southern) cities. The scale of this migration is one of the most dramatic in human
history.
These migrants, unlike their white counterparts, were not integrated into the
cities they now
called home. In fact, most American cities at the end of the twentieth century were
characterized by high levels of racial residential segregation . . . Failure to
integrate these
migrants, coupled with other forces of social disorganization such as crowding,
poverty, and
illness, caused crime rates to climb in the cities, particularly in the segregated
wards and
neighborhoods where the migrants were forced to live.
Foreign immigrants during this period did not look as dramatically different from
the rest of
the population as blacks did, but the migrants from eastern and southern Europe who
came
to American cities did not speak English, and were frequently Catholic, while the
native born
were mostly Protestant. The combination of rapid population growth with the
diversity of
those moving into the cities created what the Chicago School sociologists called
social
disorganization.
SubQuestion No : 4
Q.4 Which one of the following sets of words/phrases best encapsulates the issues
discussed
in the passage?
Ans 1. Chicago School; Native-born Whites; European immigrants; Poverty
2. Rapid population growth; Heavy industry; Segregation; Crime
3. Durkheim; Marx; Toennies; Shaw
4. Chicago School; Social organisation; Migration; Crime
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Interpretations of the Indian past . . . were inevitably influenced by colonial
concerns and
interests, and also by prevalent European ideas about history, civilization and the
Orient.
Orientalist scholars studied the languages and the texts with selected Indian
scholars, but
made little attempt to understand the world-view of those who were teaching them.
The
readings therefore are something of a disjuncture from the traditional ways of
looking at the
Indian past. . . .
Orientalism [which we can understand broadly as Western perceptions of the Orient]
fuelled
the fantasy and the freedom sought by European Romanticism, particularly in its
opposition
to the more disciplined Neo-Classicism. The cultures of Asia were seen as bringing
a new
Romantic paradigm. Another Renaissance was anticipated through an acquaintance with
the
Orient, and this, it was thought, would be different from the earlier Greek
Renaissance. It was
believed that this Oriental Renaissance would liberate European thought and
literature from
the increasing focus on discipline and rationality that had followed from the
earlier
Enlightenment. . . . [The Romantic English poets, Wordsworth and Coleridge,] were
apprehensive of the changes introduced by industrialization and turned to nature
and to
fantasies of the Orient.
However, this enthusiasm gradually changed, to conform with the emphasis later in
the
nineteenth century on the innate superiority of European civilization. Oriental
civilizations
were now seen as having once been great but currently in decline. The various
phases of
Orientalism tended to mould European understanding of the Indian past into a
particular
pattern. . . . There was an attempt to formulate Indian culture as uniform, such
formulations
being derived from texts that were given priority. The so-called ‘discovery’ of
India was largely
through selected literature in Sanskrit. This interpretation tended to emphasize
non-historical
aspects of Indian culture, for example the idea of an unchanging continuity of
society and
religion over 3,000 years; and it was believed that the Indian pattern of life was
so concerned
with metaphysics and the subtleties of religious belief that little attention was
given to the
more tangible aspects.
German Romanticism endorsed this image of India, and it became the mystic land for
many
Europeans, where even the most ordinary actions were imbued with a complex
symbolism.
This was the genesis of the idea of the spiritual east, and also, incidentally, the
refuge of
European intellectuals seeking to distance themselves from the changing patterns of
their
own societies. A dichotomy in values was maintained, Indian values being described
as
‘spiritual’ and European values as ‘materialistic’, with little attempt to
juxtapose these values
with the reality of Indian society. This theme has been even more firmly endorsed
by a section
of Indian opinion during the last hundred years.
It was a consolation to the Indian intelligentsia for its perceived inability to
counter the
technical superiority of the west, a superiority viewed as having enabled Europe to
colonize
Asia and other parts of the world. At the height of anti-colonial nationalism it
acted as a salve
for having been made a colony of Britain.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Interpretations of the Indian past . . . were inevitably influenced by colonial
concerns and
interests, and also by prevalent European ideas about history, civilization and the
Orient.
Orientalist scholars studied the languages and the texts with selected Indian
scholars, but
made little attempt to understand the world-view of those who were teaching them.
The
readings therefore are something of a disjuncture from the traditional ways of
looking at the
Indian past. . . .
Orientalism [which we can understand broadly as Western perceptions of the Orient]
fuelled
the fantasy and the freedom sought by European Romanticism, particularly in its
opposition
to the more disciplined Neo-Classicism. The cultures of Asia were seen as bringing
a new
Romantic paradigm. Another Renaissance was anticipated through an acquaintance with
the
Orient, and this, it was thought, would be different from the earlier Greek
Renaissance. It was
believed that this Oriental Renaissance would liberate European thought and
literature from
the increasing focus on discipline and rationality that had followed from the
earlier
Enlightenment. . . . [The Romantic English poets, Wordsworth and Coleridge,] were
apprehensive of the changes introduced by industrialization and turned to nature
and to
fantasies of the Orient.
However, this enthusiasm gradually changed, to conform with the emphasis later in
the
nineteenth century on the innate superiority of European civilization. Oriental
civilizations
were now seen as having once been great but currently in decline. The various
phases of
Orientalism tended to mould European understanding of the Indian past into a
particular
pattern. . . . There was an attempt to formulate Indian culture as uniform, such
formulations
being derived from texts that were given priority. The so-called ‘discovery’ of
India was largely
through selected literature in Sanskrit. This interpretation tended to emphasize
non-historical
aspects of Indian culture, for example the idea of an unchanging continuity of
society and
religion over 3,000 years; and it was believed that the Indian pattern of life was
so concerned
with metaphysics and the subtleties of religious belief that little attention was
given to the
more tangible aspects.
German Romanticism endorsed this image of India, and it became the mystic land for
many
Europeans, where even the most ordinary actions were imbued with a complex
symbolism.
This was the genesis of the idea of the spiritual east, and also, incidentally, the
refuge of
European intellectuals seeking to distance themselves from the changing patterns of
their
own societies. A dichotomy in values was maintained, Indian values being described
as
‘spiritual’ and European values as ‘materialistic’, with little attempt to
juxtapose these values
with the reality of Indian society. This theme has been even more firmly endorsed
by a section
of Indian opinion during the last hundred years.
It was a consolation to the Indian intelligentsia for its perceived inability to
counter the
technical superiority of the west, a superiority viewed as having enabled Europe to
colonize
Asia and other parts of the world. At the height of anti-colonial nationalism it
acted as a salve
for having been made a colony of Britain.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Interpretations of the Indian past . . . were inevitably influenced by colonial
concerns and
interests, and also by prevalent European ideas about history, civilization and the
Orient.
Orientalist scholars studied the languages and the texts with selected Indian
scholars, but
made little attempt to understand the world-view of those who were teaching them.
The
readings therefore are something of a disjuncture from the traditional ways of
looking at the
Indian past. . . .
Orientalism [which we can understand broadly as Western perceptions of the Orient]
fuelled
the fantasy and the freedom sought by European Romanticism, particularly in its
opposition
to the more disciplined Neo-Classicism. The cultures of Asia were seen as bringing
a new
Romantic paradigm. Another Renaissance was anticipated through an acquaintance with
the
Orient, and this, it was thought, would be different from the earlier Greek
Renaissance. It was
believed that this Oriental Renaissance would liberate European thought and
literature from
the increasing focus on discipline and rationality that had followed from the
earlier
Enlightenment. . . . [The Romantic English poets, Wordsworth and Coleridge,] were
apprehensive of the changes introduced by industrialization and turned to nature
and to
fantasies of the Orient.
However, this enthusiasm gradually changed, to conform with the emphasis later in
the
nineteenth century on the innate superiority of European civilization. Oriental
civilizations
were now seen as having once been great but currently in decline. The various
phases of
Orientalism tended to mould European understanding of the Indian past into a
particular
pattern. . . . There was an attempt to formulate Indian culture as uniform, such
formulations
being derived from texts that were given priority. The so-called ‘discovery’ of
India was largely
through selected literature in Sanskrit. This interpretation tended to emphasize
non-historical
aspects of Indian culture, for example the idea of an unchanging continuity of
society and
religion over 3,000 years; and it was believed that the Indian pattern of life was
so concerned
with metaphysics and the subtleties of religious belief that little attention was
given to the
more tangible aspects.
German Romanticism endorsed this image of India, and it became the mystic land for
many
Europeans, where even the most ordinary actions were imbued with a complex
symbolism.
This was the genesis of the idea of the spiritual east, and also, incidentally, the
refuge of
European intellectuals seeking to distance themselves from the changing patterns of
their
own societies. A dichotomy in values was maintained, Indian values being described
as
‘spiritual’ and European values as ‘materialistic’, with little attempt to
juxtapose these values
with the reality of Indian society. This theme has been even more firmly endorsed
by a section
of Indian opinion during the last hundred years.
It was a consolation to the Indian intelligentsia for its perceived inability to
counter the
technical superiority of the west, a superiority viewed as having enabled Europe to
colonize
Asia and other parts of the world. At the height of anti-colonial nationalism it
acted as a salve
for having been made a colony of Britain.
SubQuestion No : 7
Q.7 It can be inferred from the passage that to gain a more accurate view of a
nation’s history
and culture, scholars should do all of the following EXCEPT
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Interpretations of the Indian past . . . were inevitably influenced by colonial
concerns and
interests, and also by prevalent European ideas about history, civilization and the
Orient.
Orientalist scholars studied the languages and the texts with selected Indian
scholars, but
made little attempt to understand the world-view of those who were teaching them.
The
readings therefore are something of a disjuncture from the traditional ways of
looking at the
Indian past. . . .
Orientalism [which we can understand broadly as Western perceptions of the Orient]
fuelled
the fantasy and the freedom sought by European Romanticism, particularly in its
opposition
to the more disciplined Neo-Classicism. The cultures of Asia were seen as bringing
a new
Romantic paradigm. Another Renaissance was anticipated through an acquaintance with
the
Orient, and this, it was thought, would be different from the earlier Greek
Renaissance. It was
believed that this Oriental Renaissance would liberate European thought and
literature from
the increasing focus on discipline and rationality that had followed from the
earlier
Enlightenment. . . . [The Romantic English poets, Wordsworth and Coleridge,] were
apprehensive of the changes introduced by industrialization and turned to nature
and to
fantasies of the Orient.
However, this enthusiasm gradually changed, to conform with the emphasis later in
the
nineteenth century on the innate superiority of European civilization. Oriental
civilizations
were now seen as having once been great but currently in decline. The various
phases of
Orientalism tended to mould European understanding of the Indian past into a
particular
pattern. . . . There was an attempt to formulate Indian culture as uniform, such
formulations
being derived from texts that were given priority. The so-called ‘discovery’ of
India was largely
through selected literature in Sanskrit. This interpretation tended to emphasize
non-historical
aspects of Indian culture, for example the idea of an unchanging continuity of
society and
religion over 3,000 years; and it was believed that the Indian pattern of life was
so concerned
with metaphysics and the subtleties of religious belief that little attention was
given to the
more tangible aspects.
German Romanticism endorsed this image of India, and it became the mystic land for
many
Europeans, where even the most ordinary actions were imbued with a complex
symbolism.
This was the genesis of the idea of the spiritual east, and also, incidentally, the
refuge of
European intellectuals seeking to distance themselves from the changing patterns of
their
own societies. A dichotomy in values was maintained, Indian values being described
as
‘spiritual’ and European values as ‘materialistic’, with little attempt to
juxtapose these values
with the reality of Indian society. This theme has been even more firmly endorsed
by a section
of Indian opinion during the last hundred years.
It was a consolation to the Indian intelligentsia for its perceived inability to
counter the
technical superiority of the west, a superiority viewed as having enabled Europe to
colonize
Asia and other parts of the world. At the height of anti-colonial nationalism it
acted as a salve
for having been made a colony of Britain.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
As software improves, the people using it become less likely to sharpen their own
know-how.
Applications that offer lots of prompts and tips are often to blame; simpler, less
solicitous
programs push people harder to think, act and learn.
Ten years ago, information scientists at Utrecht University in the Netherlands had
a group of
people carry out complicated analytical and planning tasks using either rudimentary
software
that provided no assistance or sophisticated software that offered a great deal of
aid. The
researchers found that the people using the simple software developed better
strategies,
made fewer mistakes and developed a deeper aptitude for the work. The people using
the
more advanced software, meanwhile, would often “aimlessly click around” when
confronted
with a tricky problem. The supposedly helpful software actually short-circuited
their thinking
and learning.
[According to] philosopher Hubert Dreyfus . . . . our skills get sharper only
through practice,
when we use them regularly to overcome different sorts of difficult challenges. The
goal of
modern software, by contrast, is to ease our way through such challenges. Arduous,
painstaking work is exactly what programmers are most eager to automate—after all,
that is
where the immediate efficiency gains tend to lie. In other words, a fundamental
tension
ripples between the interests of the people doing the automation and the interests
of the
people doing the work.
Nevertheless, automation’s scope continues to widen. With the rise of electronic
health
records, physicians increasingly rely on software templates to guide them through
patient
exams. The programs incorporate valuable checklists and alerts, but they also make
medicine
more routinized and formulaic—and distance doctors from their patients. . . .
Harvard Medical
School professor Beth Lown, in a 2012 journal article . . . warned that when
doctors become
“screen-driven,” following a computer’s prompts rather than “the patient’s
narrative thread,”
their thinking can become constricted. In the worst cases, they may miss important
diagnostic signals. . . .
In a recent paper published in the journal Diagnosis, three medical researchers . .
. examined
the misdiagnosis of Thomas Eric Duncan, the first person to die of Ebola in the
U.S., at Texas
Health Presbyterian Hospital Dallas. They argue that the digital templates used by
the
hospital’s clinicians to record patient information probably helped to induce a
kind of tunnel
vision. “These highly constrained tools,” the researchers write, “are optimized for
data capture
but at the expense of sacrificing their utility for appropriate triage and
diagnosis, leading
users to miss the forest for the trees.” Medical software, they write, is no
“replacement for
basic history-taking, examination skills, and critical thinking.” . . .
There is an alternative. In “human-centered automation,” the talents of people take
precedence. . . . In this model, software plays an essential but secondary role. It
takes over
routine functions that a human operator has already mastered, issues alerts when
unexpected situations arise, provides fresh information that expands the operator’s
perspective and counters the biases that often distort human thinking. The
technology
becomes the expert’s partner, not the expert’s replacement.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
As software improves, the people using it become less likely to sharpen their own
know-how.
Applications that offer lots of prompts and tips are often to blame; simpler, less
solicitous
programs push people harder to think, act and learn.
Ten years ago, information scientists at Utrecht University in the Netherlands had
a group of
people carry out complicated analytical and planning tasks using either rudimentary
software
that provided no assistance or sophisticated software that offered a great deal of
aid. The
researchers found that the people using the simple software developed better
strategies,
made fewer mistakes and developed a deeper aptitude for the work. The people using
the
more advanced software, meanwhile, would often “aimlessly click around” when
confronted
with a tricky problem. The supposedly helpful software actually short-circuited
their thinking
and learning.
[According to] philosopher Hubert Dreyfus . . . . our skills get sharper only
through practice,
when we use them regularly to overcome different sorts of difficult challenges. The
goal of
modern software, by contrast, is to ease our way through such challenges. Arduous,
painstaking work is exactly what programmers are most eager to automate—after all,
that is
where the immediate efficiency gains tend to lie. In other words, a fundamental
tension
ripples between the interests of the people doing the automation and the interests
of the
people doing the work.
Nevertheless, automation’s scope continues to widen. With the rise of electronic
health
records, physicians increasingly rely on software templates to guide them through
patient
exams. The programs incorporate valuable checklists and alerts, but they also make
medicine
more routinized and formulaic—and distance doctors from their patients. . . .
Harvard Medical
School professor Beth Lown, in a 2012 journal article . . . warned that when
doctors become
“screen-driven,” following a computer’s prompts rather than “the patient’s
narrative thread,”
their thinking can become constricted. In the worst cases, they may miss important
diagnostic signals. . . .
In a recent paper published in the journal Diagnosis, three medical researchers . .
. examined
the misdiagnosis of Thomas Eric Duncan, the first person to die of Ebola in the
U.S., at Texas
Health Presbyterian Hospital Dallas. They argue that the digital templates used by
the
hospital’s clinicians to record patient information probably helped to induce a
kind of tunnel
vision. “These highly constrained tools,” the researchers write, “are optimized for
data capture
but at the expense of sacrificing their utility for appropriate triage and
diagnosis, leading
users to miss the forest for the trees.” Medical software, they write, is no
“replacement for
basic history-taking, examination skills, and critical thinking.” . . .
There is an alternative. In “human-centered automation,” the talents of people take
precedence. . . . In this model, software plays an essential but secondary role. It
takes over
routine functions that a human operator has already mastered, issues alerts when
unexpected situations arise, provides fresh information that expands the operator’s
perspective and counters the biases that often distort human thinking. The
technology
becomes the expert’s partner, not the expert’s replacement.

The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
As software improves, the people using it become less likely to sharpen their own
know-how.
Applications that offer lots of prompts and tips are often to blame; simpler, less
solicitous
programs push people harder to think, act and learn.
Ten years ago, information scientists at Utrecht University in the Netherlands had
a group of
people carry out complicated analytical and planning tasks using either rudimentary
software
that provided no assistance or sophisticated software that offered a great deal of
aid. The
researchers found that the people using the simple software developed better
strategies,
made fewer mistakes and developed a deeper aptitude for the work. The people using
the
more advanced software, meanwhile, would often “aimlessly click around” when
confronted
with a tricky problem. The supposedly helpful software actually short-circuited
their thinking
and learning.
[According to] philosopher Hubert Dreyfus . . . . our skills get sharper only
through practice,
when we use them regularly to overcome different sorts of difficult challenges. The
goal of
modern software, by contrast, is to ease our way through such challenges. Arduous,
painstaking work is exactly what programmers are most eager to automate—after all,
that is
where the immediate efficiency gains tend to lie. In other words, a fundamental
tension
ripples between the interests of the people doing the automation and the interests
of the
people doing the work.
Nevertheless, automation’s scope continues to widen. With the rise of electronic
health
records, physicians increasingly rely on software templates to guide them through
patient
exams. The programs incorporate valuable checklists and alerts, but they also make
medicine
more routinized and formulaic—and distance doctors from their patients. . . .
Harvard Medical
School professor Beth Lown, in a 2012 journal article . . . warned that when
doctors become
“screen-driven,” following a computer’s prompts rather than “the patient’s
narrative thread,”
their thinking can become constricted. In the worst cases, they may miss important
diagnostic signals. . . .
In a recent paper published in the journal Diagnosis, three medical researchers . .
. examined
the misdiagnosis of Thomas Eric Duncan, the first person to die of Ebola in the
U.S., at Texas
Health Presbyterian Hospital Dallas. They argue that the digital templates used by
the
hospital’s clinicians to record patient information probably helped to induce a
kind of tunnel
vision. “These highly constrained tools,” the researchers write, “are optimized for
data capture
but at the expense of sacrificing their utility for appropriate triage and
diagnosis, leading
users to miss the forest for the trees.” Medical software, they write, is no
“replacement for
basic history-taking, examination skills, and critical thinking.” . . .
There is an alternative. In “human-centered automation,” the talents of people take
precedence. . . . In this model, software plays an essential but secondary role. It
takes over
routine functions that a human operator has already mastered, issues alerts when
unexpected situations arise, provides fresh information that expands the operator’s
perspective and counters the biases that often distort human thinking. The
technology
becomes the expert’s partner, not the expert’s replacement.
Comprehension:
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
As software improves, the people using it become less likely to sharpen their own
know-how.
Applications that offer lots of prompts and tips are often to blame; simpler, less
solicitous
programs push people harder to think, act and learn.
Ten years ago, information scientists at Utrecht University in the Netherlands had
a group of
people carry out complicated analytical and planning tasks using either rudimentary
software
that provided no assistance or sophisticated software that offered a great deal of
aid. The
researchers found that the people using the simple software developed better
strategies,
made fewer mistakes and developed a deeper aptitude for the work. The people using
the
more advanced software, meanwhile, would often “aimlessly click around” when
confronted
with a tricky problem. The supposedly helpful software actually short-circuited
their thinking
and learning.
[According to] philosopher Hubert Dreyfus . . . . our skills get sharper only
through practice,
when we use them regularly to overcome different sorts of difficult challenges. The
goal of
modern software, by contrast, is to ease our way through such challenges. Arduous,
painstaking work is exactly what programmers are most eager to automate—after all,
that is
where the immediate efficiency gains tend to lie. In other words, a fundamental
tension
ripples between the interests of the people doing the automation and the interests
of the
people doing the work.
Nevertheless, automation’s scope continues to widen. With the rise of electronic
health
records, physicians increasingly rely on software templates to guide them through
patient
exams. The programs incorporate valuable checklists and alerts, but they also make
medicine
more routinized and formulaic—and distance doctors from their patients. . . .
Harvard Medical
School professor Beth Lown, in a 2012 journal article . . . warned that when
doctors become
“screen-driven,” following a computer’s prompts rather than “the patient’s
narrative thread,”
their thinking can become constricted. In the worst cases, they may miss important
diagnostic signals. . . .
In a recent paper published in the journal Diagnosis, three medical researchers . .
. examined
the misdiagnosis of Thomas Eric Duncan, the first person to die of Ebola in the
U.S., at Texas
Health Presbyterian Hospital Dallas. They argue that the digital templates used by
the
hospital’s clinicians to record patient information probably helped to induce a
kind of tunnel
vision. “These highly constrained tools,” the researchers write, “are optimized for
data capture
but at the expense of sacrificing their utility for appropriate triage and
diagnosis, leading
users to miss the forest for the trees.” Medical software, they write, is no
“replacement for
basic history-taking, examination skills, and critical thinking.” . . .
There is an alternative. In “human-centered automation,” the talents of people take
precedence. . . . In this model, software plays an essential but secondary role. It
takes over
routine functions that a human operator has already mastered, issues alerts when
unexpected situations arise, provides fresh information that expands the operator’s
perspective and counters the biases that often distort human thinking. The
technology
becomes the expert’s partner, not the expert’s replacement.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Nature has all along yielded her flesh to humans. First, we took nature’s materials
as food,
fibers, and shelter. Then we learned to extract raw materials from her biosphere to
create our
own new synthetic materials. Now Bios is yielding us her mind—we are taking her
logic.
Clockwork logic—the logic of the machines—will only build simple contraptions.
Truly
complex systems such as a cell, a meadow, an economy, or a brain (natural or
artificial)
require a rigorous nontechnological logic. We now see that no logic except bio-
logic can
assemble a thinking device, or even a workable system of any magnitude.
It is an astounding discovery that one can extract the logic of Bios out of biology
and have
something useful. Although many philosophers in the past have suspected one could
abstract the laws of life and apply them elsewhere, it wasn’t until the complexity
of computers
and human-made systems became as complicated as living things, that it was possible
to
prove this. It’s eerie how much of life can be transferred. So far, some of the
traits of the living
that have successfully been transported to mechanical systems are: self-
replication, self#governance, limited self-repair, mild evolution, and partial
learning.
We have reason to believe yet more can be synthesized and made into something new.
Yet at
the same time that the logic of Bios is being imported into machines, the logic of
Technos is
being imported into life. The root of bioengineering is the desire to control the
organic long
enough to improve it. Domesticated plants and animals are examples of technos-logic
applied to life. The wild aromatic root of the Queen Anne’s lace weed has been
fine-tuned over
generations by selective herb gatherers until it has evolved into a sweet carrot of
the garden;
the udders of wild bovines have been selectively enlarged in a “unnatural” way to
satisfy
humans rather than calves. Milk cows and carrots, therefore, are human inventions
as much
as steam engines and gunpowder are. But milk cows and carrots are more indicative
of the
kind of inventions humans will make in the future: products that are grown rather
than
manufactured.
Genetic engineering is precisely what cattle breeders do when they select better
strains of
Holsteins, only bioengineers employ more precise and powerful control. While carrot
and milk
cow breeders had to rely on diffuse organic evolution, modern genetic engineers can
use
directed artificial evolution—purposeful design—which greatly accelerates
improvements.
The overlap of the mechanical and the lifelike increases year by year. Part of this
bionic
convergence is a matter of words. The meanings of “mechanical” and “life” are both
stretching until all complicated things can be perceived as machines, and all self-
sustaining
machines can be perceived as alive. Yet beyond semantics, two concrete trends are
happening: (1) Human-made things are behaving more lifelike, and (2) Life is
becoming more
engineered. The apparent veil between the organic and the manufactured has crumpled
to
reveal that the two really are, and have always been, of one being.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Nature has all along yielded her flesh to humans. First, we took nature’s materials
as food,
fibers, and shelter. Then we learned to extract raw materials from her biosphere to
create our
own new synthetic materials. Now Bios is yielding us her mind—we are taking her
logic.
Clockwork logic—the logic of the machines—will only build simple contraptions.
Truly
complex systems such as a cell, a meadow, an economy, or a brain (natural or
artificial)
require a rigorous nontechnological logic. We now see that no logic except bio-
logic can
assemble a thinking device, or even a workable system of any magnitude.
It is an astounding discovery that one can extract the logic of Bios out of biology
and have
something useful. Although many philosophers in the past have suspected one could
abstract the laws of life and apply them elsewhere, it wasn’t until the complexity
of computers
and human-made systems became as complicated as living things, that it was possible
to
prove this. It’s eerie how much of life can be transferred. So far, some of the
traits of the living
that have successfully been transported to mechanical systems are: self-
replication, self#governance, limited self-repair, mild evolution, and partial
learning.
We have reason to believe yet more can be synthesized and made into something new.
Yet at
the same time that the logic of Bios is being imported into machines, the logic of
Technos is
being imported into life. The root of bioengineering is the desire to control the
organic long
enough to improve it. Domesticated plants and animals are examples of technos-logic
applied to life. The wild aromatic root of the Queen Anne’s lace weed has been
fine-tuned over
generations by selective herb gatherers until it has evolved into a sweet carrot of
the garden;
the udders of wild bovines have been selectively enlarged in a “unnatural” way to
satisfy
humans rather than calves. Milk cows and carrots, therefore, are human inventions
as much
as steam engines and gunpowder are. But milk cows and carrots are more indicative
of the
kind of inventions humans will make in the future: products that are grown rather
than
manufactured.
Genetic engineering is precisely what cattle breeders do when they select better
strains of
Holsteins, only bioengineers employ more precise and powerful control. While carrot
and milk
cow breeders had to rely on diffuse organic evolution, modern genetic engineers can
use
directed artificial evolution—purposeful design—which greatly accelerates
improvements.
The overlap of the mechanical and the lifelike increases year by year. Part of this
bionic
convergence is a matter of words. The meanings of “mechanical” and “life” are both
stretching until all complicated things can be perceived as machines, and all self-
sustaining
machines can be perceived as alive. Yet beyond semantics, two concrete trends are
happening: (1) Human-made things are behaving more lifelike, and (2) Life is
becoming more
engineered. The apparent veil between the organic and the manufactured has crumpled
to
reveal that the two really are, and have always been, of one being.
SubQuestion No : 14
Q.14 The author claims that, “The apparent veil between the organic and the
manufactured h
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Nature has all along yielded her flesh to humans. First, we took nature’s materials
as food,
fibers, and shelter. Then we learned to extract raw materials from her biosphere to
create our
own new synthetic materials. Now Bios is yielding us her mind—we are taking her
logic.
Clockwork logic—the logic of the machines—will only build simple contraptions.
Truly
complex systems such as a cell, a meadow, an economy, or a brain (natural or
artificial)
require a rigorous nontechnological logic. We now see that no logic except bio-
logic can
assemble a thinking device, or even a workable system of any magnitude.
It is an astounding discovery that one can extract the logic of Bios out of biology
and have
something useful. Although many philosophers in the past have suspected one could
abstract the laws of life and apply them elsewhere, it wasn’t until the complexity
of computers
and human-made systems became as complicated as living things, that it was possible
to
prove this. It’s eerie how much of life can be transferred. So far, some of the
traits of the living
that have successfully been transported to mechanical systems are: self-
replication, self#governance, limited self-repair, mild evolution, and partial
learning.
We have reason to believe yet more can be synthesized and made into something new.
Yet at
the same time that the logic of Bios is being imported into machines, the logic of
Technos is
being imported into life. The root of bioengineering is the desire to control the
organic long
enough to improve it. Domesticated plants and animals are examples of technos-logic
applied to life. The wild aromatic root of the Queen Anne’s lace weed has been
fine-tuned over
generations by selective herb gatherers until it has evolved into a sweet carrot of
the garden;
the udders of wild bovines have been selectively enlarged in a “unnatural” way to
satisfy
humans rather than calves. Milk cows and carrots, therefore, are human inventions
as much
as steam engines and gunpowder are. But milk cows and carrots are more indicative
of the
kind of inventions humans will make in the future: products that are grown rather
than
manufactured.
Genetic engineering is precisely what cattle breeders do when they select better
strains of
Holsteins, only bioengineers employ more precise and powerful control. While carrot
and milk
cow breeders had to rely on diffuse organic evolution, modern genetic engineers can
use
directed artificial evolution—purposeful design—which greatly accelerates
improvements.
The overlap of the mechanical and the lifelike increases year by year. Part of this
bionic
convergence is a matter of words. The meanings of “mechanical” and “life” are both
stretching until all complicated things can be perceived as machines, and all self-
sustaining
machines can be perceived as alive. Yet beyond semantics, two concrete trends are
happening: (1) Human-made things are behaving more lifelike, and (2) Life is
becoming more
engineered. The apparent veil between the organic and the manufactured has crumpled
to
reveal that the two really are, and have always been, of one being.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Nature has all along yielded her flesh to humans. First, we took nature’s materials
as food,
fibers, and shelter. Then we learned to extract raw materials from her biosphere to
create our
own new synthetic materials. Now Bios is yielding us her mind—we are taking her
logic.
Clockwork logic—the logic of the machines—will only build simple contraptions.
Truly
complex systems such as a cell, a meadow, an economy, or a brain (natural or
artificial)
require a rigorous nontechnological logic. We now see that no logic except bio-
logic can
assemble a thinking device, or even a workable system of any magnitude.
It is an astounding discovery that one can extract the logic of Bios out of biology
and have
something useful. Although many philosophers in the past have suspected one could
abstract the laws of life and apply them elsewhere, it wasn’t until the complexity
of computers
and human-made systems became as complicated as living things, that it was possible
to
prove this. It’s eerie how much of life can be transferred. So far, some of the
traits of the living
that have successfully been transported to mechanical systems are: self-
replication, self#governance, limited self-repair, mild evolution, and partial
learning.
We have reason to believe yet more can be synthesized and made into something new.
Yet at
the same time that the logic of Bios is being imported into machines, the logic of
Technos is
being imported into life. The root of bioengineering is the desire to control the
organic long
enough to improve it. Domesticated plants and animals are examples of technos-logic
applied to life. The wild aromatic root of the Queen Anne’s lace weed has been
fine-tuned over
generations by selective herb gatherers until it has evolved into a sweet carrot of
the garden;
the udders of wild bovines have been selectively enlarged in a “unnatural” way to
satisfy
humans rather than calves. Milk cows and carrots, therefore, are human inventions
as much
as steam engines and gunpowder are. But milk cows and carrots are more indicative
of the
kind of inventions humans will make in the future: products that are grown rather
than
manufactured.
Genetic engineering is precisely what cattle breeders do when they select better
strains of
Holsteins, only bioengineers employ more precise and powerful control. While carrot
and milk
cow breeders had to rely on diffuse organic evolution, modern genetic engineers can
use
directed artificial evolution—purposeful design—which greatly accelerates
improvements.
The overlap of the mechanical and the lifelike increases year by year. Part of this
bionic
convergence is a matter of words. The meanings of “mechanical” and “life” are both
stretching until all complicated things can be perceived as machines, and all self-
sustaining
machines can be perceived as alive. Yet beyond semantics, two concrete trends are
happening: (1) Human-made things are behaving more lifelike, and (2) Life is
becoming more
engineered. The apparent veil between the organic and the manufactured has crumpled
to
reveal that the two really are, and have always been, of one being.
7 The four sentences (labelled 1, 2, 3 and 4) below, when properly sequenced, would
yield
a coherent paragraph. Decide on the proper sequencing of the order of the sentences
and key in the sequence of the four numbers as your answer:
[Link] industrial sectors including retail, transit systems, enterprises,
educational
institutions, event organizing, finance, travel etc. have now started leveraging
these
beacons solutions to track and communicate with their customers.
2.A beacon fixed on to a shop wall enables the retailer to assess the proximity of
the
customer, and come up with a much targeted or personalized communication like
offers,
discounts and combos on products in each shelf.
[Link] phones or other mobile devices can capture the beacon signals, and distance
can be estimated by measuring received signal strength.
[Link] are tiny and inexpensive, micro-location-based technology devices that
can
send radio frequency signals and notify nearby Bluetooth devices of their presence
and
transmit information.
It does seem to me that the job of comedy is to offend, or have the potential to
offend, and
it cannot be drained of that potential,” Rowan Atkinson said of cancel culture.
“Every joke
has a victim. That’s the definition of a joke. Someone or something or an idea is
made to
look ridiculous.” The Netflix star continued, “I think you’ve got to be very, very
careful about
saying what you’re allowed to make jokes about. You’ve always got to kick up?
Really?” He
added, “There are lots of extremely smug and self-satisfied people in what would be
deemed lower down in society, who also deserve to be pulled up. In a proper free
society,
you should be allowed to make jokes about absolutely anything.”

The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Stoicism was founded in 300 BC by the Greek philosopher Zeno and survived into the
Roman
era until about AD 300. According to the Stoics, emotions consist of two movements.
The
first movement is the immediate feeling and other reactions (e.g., physiological
response)
that occur when a stimulus or event occurs. For instance, consider what could have
happened
if an army general accused Marcus Aurelius of treason in front of other officers.
The first
movement for Marcus may have been (internal) surprise and anger in response to this
insult,
accompanied perhaps by some involuntary physiological and expressive responses such
as
face flushing and a movement of the eyebrows. The second movement is what one does
next
about the emotion. Second movement behaviors occur after thinking and are under
one’s
control. Examples of second movements for Marcus might have included a plot to seek
revenge, actions signifying deference and appeasement, or perhaps proceeding as he
would
have proceeded whether or not this event occurred: continuing to lead the Romans in
a way
that Marcus Aurelius believed best benefited them. In the Stoic view, choosing a
reasoned,
unemotional response as the second movement is the only appropriate response.
The Stoics believed that to live the good life and be a good person, we need to
free ourselves
of nearly all desires such as too much desire for money, power, or sexual
gratification. Prior to
second movements, we can consider what is important in life. Money, power, and
excessive
sexual gratification are not important. Character, rationality, and kindness are
important. The
Epicureans, first associated with the Greek philosopher Epicurus . . . held a
similar view,
believing that people should enjoy simple pleasures, such as good conversation,
friendship,
food, and wine, but not be indulgent in these pursuits and not follow passion for
those things
that hold no real value like power and money. As Oatley (2004) states, “the
Epicureans
articulated a view—enjoyment of relationship with friends, of things that are real
rather than
illusory, simple rather than artificially inflated, possible rather than
vanishingly unlikely—that is
certainly relevant today” . . . In sum, these ancient Greek and Roman philosophers
saw
emotions, especially strong ones, as potentially dangerous. They viewed emotions as
experiences that needed to be [reined] in and controlled.
As Oatley (2004) points out, the Stoic idea bears some similarity to Buddhism.
Buddha, living
in India in the 6th century BC, argued for cultivating a certain attitude that
decreases the
probability of (in Stoic terms) destructive second movements. Through meditation
and the
right attitude, one allows emotions to happen to oneself (it is impossible to
prevent this), but
one is advised to observe the emotions without necessarily acting on them; one
achieves
some distance and decides what has value and what does not have value.
Additionally, the
Stoic idea of developing virtue in oneself, of becoming a good person, which the
Stoics
believed we could do because we have a touch of the divine, laid the foundation for
the three
monotheistic religions: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam . . . As with Stoicism,
tenets of these
religions include controlling our emotions lest we engage in sinful behavior.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Stoicism was founded in 300 BC by the Greek philosopher Zeno and survived into the
Roman
era until about AD 300. According to the Stoics, emotions consist of two movements.
The
first movement is the immediate feeling and other reactions (e.g., physiological
response)
that occur when a stimulus or event occurs. For instance, consider what could have
happened
if an army general accused Marcus Aurelius of treason in front of other officers.
The first
movement for Marcus may have been (internal) surprise and anger in response to this
insult,
accompanied perhaps by some involuntary physiological and expressive responses such
as
face flushing and a movement of the eyebrows. The second movement is what one does
next
about the emotion. Second movement behaviors occur after thinking and are under
one’s
control. Examples of second movements for Marcus might have included a plot to seek
revenge, actions signifying deference and appeasement, or perhaps proceeding as he
would
have proceeded whether or not this event occurred: continuing to lead the Romans in
a way
that Marcus Aurelius believed best benefited them. In the Stoic view, choosing a
reasoned,
unemotional response as the second movement is the only appropriate response.
The Stoics believed that to live the good life and be a good person, we need to
free ourselves
of nearly all desires such as too much desire for money, power, or sexual
gratification. Prior to
second movements, we can consider what is important in life. Money, power, and
excessive
sexual gratification are not important. Character, rationality, and kindness are
important. The
Epicureans, first associated with the Greek philosopher Epicurus . . . held a
similar view,
believing that people should enjoy simple pleasures, such as good conversation,
friendship,
food, and wine, but not be indulgent in these pursuits and not follow passion for
those things
that hold no real value like power and money. As Oatley (2004) states, “the
Epicureans
articulated a view—enjoyment of relationship with friends, of things that are real
rather than
illusory, simple rather than artificially inflated, possible rather than
vanishingly unlikely—that is
certainly relevant today” . . . In sum, these ancient Greek and Roman philosophers
saw
emotions, especially strong ones, as potentially dangerous. They viewed emotions as
experiences that needed to be [reined] in and controlled.
As Oatley (2004) points out, the Stoic idea bears some similarity to Buddhism.
Buddha, living
in India in the 6th century BC, argued for cultivating a certain attitude that
decreases the
probability of (in Stoic terms) destructive second movements. Through meditation
and the
right attitude, one allows emotions to happen to oneself (it is impossible to
prevent this), but
one is advised to observe the emotions without necessarily acting on them; one
achieves
some distance and decides what has value and what does not have value.
Additionally, the
Stoic idea of developing virtue in oneself, of becoming a good person, which the
Stoics
believed we could do because we have a touch of the divine, laid the foundation for
the three
monotheistic religions: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam . . . As with Stoicism,
tenets of these
religions include controlling our emotions lest we engage in sinful behavior.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Stoicism was founded in 300 BC by the Greek philosopher Zeno and survived into the
Roman
era until about AD 300. According to the Stoics, emotions consist of two movements.
The
first movement is the immediate feeling and other reactions (e.g., physiological
response)
that occur when a stimulus or event occurs. For instance, consider what could have
happened
if an army general accused Marcus Aurelius of treason in front of other officers.
The first
movement for Marcus may have been (internal) surprise and anger in response to this
insult,
accompanied perhaps by some involuntary physiological and expressive responses such
as
face flushing and a movement of the eyebrows. The second movement is what one does
next
about the emotion. Second movement behaviors occur after thinking and are under
one’s
control. Examples of second movements for Marcus might have included a plot to seek
revenge, actions signifying deference and appeasement, or perhaps proceeding as he
would
have proceeded whether or not this event occurred: continuing to lead the Romans in
a way
that Marcus Aurelius believed best benefited them. In the Stoic view, choosing a
reasoned,
unemotional response as the second movement is the only appropriate response.
The Stoics believed that to live the good life and be a good person, we need to
free ourselves
of nearly all desires such as too much desire for money, power, or sexual
gratification. Prior to
second movements, we can consider what is important in life. Money, power, and
excessive
sexual gratification are not important. Character, rationality, and kindness are
important. The
Epicureans, first associated with the Greek philosopher Epicurus . . . held a
similar view,
believing that people should enjoy simple pleasures, such as good conversation,
friendship,
food, and wine, but not be indulgent in these pursuits and not follow passion for
those things
that hold no real value like power and money. As Oatley (2004) states, “the
Epicureans
articulated a view—enjoyment of relationship with friends, of things that are real
rather than
illusory, simple rather than artificially inflated, possible rather than
vanishingly unlikely—that is
certainly relevant today” . . . In sum, these ancient Greek and Roman philosophers
saw
emotions, especially strong ones, as potentially dangerous. They viewed emotions as
experiences that needed to be [reined] in and controlled.
As Oatley (2004) points out, the Stoic idea bears some similarity to Buddhism.
Buddha, living
in India in the 6th century BC, argued for cultivating a certain attitude that
decreases the
probability of (in Stoic terms) destructive second movements. Through meditation
and the
right attitude, one allows emotions to happen to oneself (it is impossible to
prevent this), but
one is advised to observe the emotions without necessarily acting on them; one
achieves
some distance and decides what has value and what does not have value.
Additionally, the
Stoic idea of developing virtue in oneself, of becoming a good person, which the
Stoics
believed we could do because we have a touch of the divine, laid the foundation for
the three
monotheistic religions: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam . . . As with Stoicism,
tenets of these
religions include controlling our emotions lest we engage in sinful behavior.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Stoicism was founded in 300 BC by the Greek philosopher Zeno and survived into the
Roman
era until about AD 300. According to the Stoics, emotions consist of two movements.
The
first movement is the immediate feeling and other reactions (e.g., physiological
response)
that occur when a stimulus or event occurs. For instance, consider what could have
happened
if an army general accused Marcus Aurelius of treason in front of other officers.
The first
movement for Marcus may have been (internal) surprise and anger in response to this
insult,
accompanied perhaps by some involuntary physiological and expressive responses such
as
face flushing and a movement of the eyebrows. The second movement is what one does
next
about the emotion. Second movement behaviors occur after thinking and are under
one’s
control. Examples of second movements for Marcus might have included a plot to seek
revenge, actions signifying deference and appeasement, or perhaps proceeding as he
would
have proceeded whether or not this event occurred: continuing to lead the Romans in
a way
that Marcus Aurelius believed best benefited them. In the Stoic view, choosing a
reasoned,
unemotional response as the second movement is the only appropriate response.
The Stoics believed that to live the good life and be a good person, we need to
free ourselves
of nearly all desires such as too much desire for money, power, or sexual
gratification. Prior to
second movements, we can consider what is important in life. Money, power, and
excessive
sexual gratification are not important. Character, rationality, and kindness are
important. The
Epicureans, first associated with the Greek philosopher Epicurus . . . held a
similar view,
believing that people should enjoy simple pleasures, such as good conversation,
friendship,
food, and wine, but not be indulgent in these pursuits and not follow passion for
those things
that hold no real value like power and money. As Oatley (2004) states, “the
Epicureans
articulated a view—enjoyment of relationship with friends, of things that are real
rather than
illusory, simple rather than artificially inflated, possible rather than
vanishingly unlikely—that is
certainly relevant today” . . . In sum, these ancient Greek and Roman philosophers
saw
emotions, especially strong ones, as potentially dangerous. They viewed emotions as
experiences that needed to be [reined] in and controlled.
As Oatley (2004) points out, the Stoic idea bears some similarity to Buddhism.
Buddha, living
in India in the 6th century BC, argued for cultivating a certain attitude that
decreases the
probability of (in Stoic terms) destructive second movements. Through meditation
and the
right attitude, one allows emotions to happen to oneself (it is impossible to
prevent this), but
one is advised to observe the emotions without necessarily acting on them; one
achieves
some distance and decides what has value and what does not have value.
Additionally, the
Stoic idea of developing virtue in oneself, of becoming a good person, which the
Stoics
believed we could do because we have a touch of the divine, laid the foundation for
the three
monotheistic religions: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam . . . As with Stoicism,
tenets of these
religions include controlling our emotions lest we engage in sinful behavior.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
The Chinese have two different concepts of a copy. Fangzhipin . . . are imitations
where the
difference from the original is obvious. These are small models or copies that can
be
purchased in a museum shop, for example. The second concept for a copy is
fuzhipin . . .
They are exact reproductions of the original, which, for the Chinese, are of equal
value to the
original. It has absolutely no negative connotations. The discrepancy with regard
to the
understanding of what a copy is has often led to misunderstandings and arguments
between
China and Western museums. The Chinese often send copies abroad instead of
originals, in
the firm belief that they are not essentially different from the originals. The
rejection that then
comes from the Western museums is perceived by the Chinese as an insult. . . .
The Far Eastern notion of identity is also very confusing to the Western observer.
The Ise
Grand Shrine [in Japan] is 1,300 years old for the millions of Japanese people who
go there
on pilgrimage every year. But in reality this temple complex is completely rebuilt
from scratch
every 20 years. . . .
The cathedral of Freiburg Minster in southwest Germany is covered in scaffolding
almost all
year round. The sandstone from which it is built is a very soft, porous material
that does not
withstand natural erosion by rain and wind. After a while, it crumbles. As a
result, the
cathedral is continually being examined for damage, and eroded stones are replaced.
And in
the cathedral’s dedicated workshop, copies of the damaged sandstone figures are
constantly
being produced. Of course, attempts are made to preserve the stones from the Middle
Ages
for as long as possible. But at some point they, too, are removed and replaced with
new
stones.
Fundamentally, this is the same operation as with the Japanese shrine, except in
this case the
production of a replica takes place very slowly and over long periods of
time. . . . In the field of
art as well, the idea of an unassailable original developed historically in the
Western world.
Back in the 17th century [in the West], excavated artworks from antiquity were
treated quite
differently from today. They were not restored in a way that was faithful to the
original.
Instead, there was massive intervention in these works, changing their
appearance. . . .
It is probably this intellectual position that explains why Asians have far fewer
scruples about
cloning than Europeans. The South Korean cloning researcher Hwang Woo-suk, who
attracted
worldwide attention with his cloning experiments in 2004, is a Buddhist. He found a
great deal
of support and followers among Buddhists, while Christians called for a ban on
human
cloning. . . . Hwang legitimised his cloning experiments with his religious
affiliation: ‘I am
Buddhist, and I have no philosophical problem with cloning. And as you know, the
basis of
Buddhism is that life is recycled through reincarnation. In some ways, I think,
therapeutic
cloning restarts the circle of life.’
SubQuestion No : 5
Q.5 Based on the passage, which one of the following copies would a Chinese museum
be
unlikely to consider as having less value than the original
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
The Chinese have two different concepts of a copy. Fangzhipin . . . are imitations
where the
difference from the original is obvious. These are small models or copies that can
be
purchased in a museum shop, for example. The second concept for a copy is
fuzhipin . . .
They are exact reproductions of the original, which, for the Chinese, are of equal
value to the
original. It has absolutely no negative connotations. The discrepancy with regard
to the
understanding of what a copy is has often led to misunderstandings and arguments
between
China and Western museums. The Chinese often send copies abroad instead of
originals, in
the firm belief that they are not essentially different from the originals. The
rejection that then
comes from the Western museums is perceived by the Chinese as an insult. . . .
The Far Eastern notion of identity is also very confusing to the Western observer.
The Ise
Grand Shrine [in Japan] is 1,300 years old for the millions of Japanese people who
go there
on pilgrimage every year. But in reality this temple complex is completely rebuilt
from scratch
every 20 years. . . .
The cathedral of Freiburg Minster in southwest Germany is covered in scaffolding
almost all
year round. The sandstone from which it is built is a very soft, porous material
that does not
withstand natural erosion by rain and wind. After a while, it crumbles. As a
result, the
cathedral is continually being examined for damage, and eroded stones are replaced.
And in
the cathedral’s dedicated workshop, copies of the damaged sandstone figures are
constantly
being produced. Of course, attempts are made to preserve the stones from the Middle
Ages
for as long as possible. But at some point they, too, are removed and replaced with
new
stones.
Fundamentally, this is the same operation as with the Japanese shrine, except in
this case the
production of a replica takes place very slowly and over long periods of
time. . . . In the field of
art as well, the idea of an unassailable original developed historically in the
Western world.
Back in the 17th century [in the West], excavated artworks from antiquity were
treated quite
differently from today. They were not restored in a way that was faithful to the
original.
Instead, there was massive intervention in these works, changing their
appearance. . . .
It is probably this intellectual position that explains why Asians have far fewer
scruples about
cloning than Europeans. The South Korean cloning researcher Hwang Woo-suk, who
attracted
worldwide attention with his cloning experiments in 2004, is a Buddhist. He found a
great deal
of support and followers among Buddhists, while Christians called for a ban on
human
cloning. . . . Hwang legitimised his cloning experiments with his religious
affiliation: ‘I am
Buddhist, and I have no philosophical problem with cloning. And as you know, the
basis of
Buddhism is that life is recycled through reincarnation. In some ways, I think,
therapeutic
cloning restarts the circle of life.’
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
The Chinese have two different concepts of a copy. Fangzhipin . . . are imitations
where the
difference from the original is obvious. These are small models or copies that can
be
purchased in a museum shop, for example. The second concept for a copy is
fuzhipin . . .
They are exact reproductions of the original, which, for the Chinese, are of equal
value to the
original. It has absolutely no negative connotations. The discrepancy with regard
to the
understanding of what a copy is has often led to misunderstandings and arguments
between
China and Western museums. The Chinese often send copies abroad instead of
originals, in
the firm belief that they are not essentially different from the originals. The
rejection that then
comes from the Western museums is perceived by the Chinese as an insult. . . .
The Far Eastern notion of identity is also very confusing to the Western observer.
The Ise
Grand Shrine [in Japan] is 1,300 years old for the millions of Japanese people who
go there
on pilgrimage every year. But in reality this temple complex is completely rebuilt
from scratch
every 20 years. . . .
The cathedral of Freiburg Minster in southwest Germany is covered in scaffolding
almost all
year round. The sandstone from which it is built is a very soft, porous material
that does not
withstand natural erosion by rain and wind. After a while, it crumbles. As a
result, the
cathedral is continually being examined for damage, and eroded stones are replaced.
And in
the cathedral’s dedicated workshop, copies of the damaged sandstone figures are
constantly
being produced. Of course, attempts are made to preserve the stones from the Middle
Ages
for as long as possible. But at some point they, too, are removed and replaced with
new
stones.
Fundamentally, this is the same operation as with the Japanese shrine, except in
this case the
production of a replica takes place very slowly and over long periods of
time. . . . In the field of
art as well, the idea of an unassailable original developed historically in the
Western world.
Back in the 17th century [in the West], excavated artworks from antiquity were
treated quite
differently from today. They were not restored in a way that was faithful to the
original.
Instead, there was massive intervention in these works, changing their
appearance. . . .
It is probably this intellectual position that explains why Asians have far fewer
scruples about
cloning than Europeans. The South Korean cloning researcher Hwang Woo-suk, who
attracted
worldwide attention with his cloning experiments in 2004, is a Buddhist. He found a
great deal
of support and followers among Buddhists, while Christians called for a ban on
human
cloning. . . . Hwang legitimised his cloning experiments with his religious
affiliation: ‘I am
Buddhist, and I have no philosophical problem with cloning. And as you know, the
basis of
Buddhism is that life is recycled through reincarnation. In some ways, I think,
therapeutic
cloning restarts the circle of life.’
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
The Chinese have two different concepts of a copy. Fangzhipin . . . are imitations
where the
difference from the original is obvious. These are small models or copies that can
be
purchased in a museum shop, for example. The second concept for a copy is
fuzhipin . . .
They are exact reproductions of the original, which, for the Chinese, are of equal
value to the
original. It has absolutely no negative connotations. The discrepancy with regard
to the
understanding of what a copy is has often led to misunderstandings and arguments
between
China and Western museums. The Chinese often send copies abroad instead of
originals, in
the firm belief that they are not essentially different from the originals. The
rejection that then
comes from the Western museums is perceived by the Chinese as an insult. . . .
The Far Eastern notion of identity is also very confusing to the Western observer.
The Ise
Grand Shrine [in Japan] is 1,300 years old for the millions of Japanese people who
go there
on pilgrimage every year. But in reality this temple complex is completely rebuilt
from scratch
every 20 years. . . .
The cathedral of Freiburg Minster in southwest Germany is covered in scaffolding
almost all
year round. The sandstone from which it is built is a very soft, porous material
that does not
withstand natural erosion by rain and wind. After a while, it crumbles. As a
result, the
cathedral is continually being examined for damage, and eroded stones are replaced.
And in
the cathedral’s dedicated workshop, copies of the damaged sandstone figures are
constantly
being produced. Of course, attempts are made to preserve the stones from the Middle
Ages
for as long as possible. But at some point they, too, are removed and replaced with
new
stones.
Fundamentally, this is the same operation as with the Japanese shrine, except in
this case the
production of a replica takes place very slowly and over long periods of
time. . . . In the field of
art as well, the idea of an unassailable original developed historically in the
Western world.
Back in the 17th century [in the West], excavated artworks from antiquity were
treated quite
differently from today. They were not restored in a way that was faithful to the
original.
Instead, there was massive intervention in these works, changing their
appearance. . . .
It is probably this intellectual position that explains why Asians have far fewer
scruples about
cloning than Europeans. The South Korean cloning researcher Hwang Woo-suk, who
attracted
worldwide attention with his cloning experiments in 2004, is a Buddhist. He found a
great deal
of support and followers among Buddhists, while Christians called for a ban on
human
cloning. . . . Hwang legitimised his cloning experiments with his religious
affiliation: ‘I am
Buddhist, and I have no philosophical problem with cloning. And as you know, the
basis of
Buddhism is that life is recycled through reincarnation. In some ways, I think,
therapeutic
cloning restarts the circle of life.’

The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Stories concerning the Undead have always been with us. From out of the primal
darkness of
Mankind’s earliest years, come whispers of eerie creatures, not quite alive (or
alive in a way
which we can understand), yet not quite dead either. These may have been ancient
and
primitive deities who dwelt deep in the surrounding forests and in remote places,
or simply
those deceased who refused to remain in their tombs and who wandered about the
countryside, physically tormenting and frightening those who were still alive.
Mostly they were
ill-defined—strange sounds in the night beyond the comforting glow of the fire, or
a shape,
half-glimpsed in the twilight along the edge of an encampment. They were vague and
indistinct, but they were always there with the power to terrify and disturb. They
had the
power to touch the minds of our early ancestors and to fill them with dread. Such
fear formed
the basis of the earliest tales although the source and exact nature of such
terrors still
remained very vague.
And as Mankind became more sophisticated, leaving the gloom of their caves and
forming
themselves into recognizable communities—towns, cities, whole cultures—so the
Undead
travelled with them, inhabiting their folklore just as they had in former times.
Now they began
to take on more definite shapes. They became walking cadavers; the physical
embodiment of
former deities and things which had existed alongside Man since the Creation. Some
still
remained vague and ill-defined but, as Mankind strove to explain the horror which
it felt
towards them, such creatures emerged more readily into the light.
In order to confirm their abnormal status, many of the Undead were often accorded
attributes,
which defied the natural order of things—the power to transform themselves into
other
shapes, the ability to sustain themselves by drinking human blood, and the ability
to influence
human minds across a distance. Such powers—described as supernatural—only [lent] an
added dimension to the terror that humans felt regarding them.
And it was only natural, too, that the Undead should become connected with the
practice of
magic. From very early times, Shamans and witchdoctors had claimed at least some
power
and control over the spirits of departed ancestors, and this has continued down
into more
“civilized” times. Formerly, the invisible spirits and forces that thronged around
men’s earliest
encampments, had spoken “through” the tribal Shamans but now, as entities in their
own
right, they were subject to magical control and could be physically summoned by a
competent
sorcerer. However, the relationship between the magician and an Undead creature was
often
a very tenuous and uncertain one. Some sorcerers might have even become Undead
entities
once they died, but they might also have been susceptible to the powers of other
magicians
when they did.
From the Middle Ages and into the Age of Enlightenment, theories of the Undead
continued to
grow and develop. Their names became more familiar—werewolf, vampire, ghoul—each
one
certain to strike fear into the hearts of ordinary humans.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Stories concerning the Undead have always been with us. From out of the primal
darkness of
Mankind’s earliest years, come whispers of eerie creatures, not quite alive (or
alive in a way
which we can understand), yet not quite dead either. These may have been ancient
and
primitive deities who dwelt deep in the surrounding forests and in remote places,
or simply
those deceased who refused to remain in their tombs and who wandered about the
countryside, physically tormenting and frightening those who were still alive.
Mostly they were
ill-defined—strange sounds in the night beyond the comforting glow of the fire, or
a shape,
half-glimpsed in the twilight along the edge of an encampment. They were vague and
indistinct, but they were always there with the power to terrify and disturb. They
had the
power to touch the minds of our early ancestors and to fill them with dread. Such
fear formed
the basis of the earliest tales although the source and exact nature of such
terrors still
remained very vague.
And as Mankind became more sophisticated, leaving the gloom of their caves and
forming
themselves into recognizable communities—towns, cities, whole cultures—so the
Undead
travelled with them, inhabiting their folklore just as they had in former times.
Now they began
to take on more definite shapes. They became walking cadavers; the physical
embodiment of
former deities and things which had existed alongside Man since the Creation. Some
still
remained vague and ill-defined but, as Mankind strove to explain the horror which
it felt
towards them, such creatures emerged more readily into the light.
In order to confirm their abnormal status, many of the Undead were often accorded
attributes,
which defied the natural order of things—the power to transform themselves into
other
shapes, the ability to sustain themselves by drinking human blood, and the ability
to influence
human minds across a distance. Such powers—described as supernatural—only [lent] an
added dimension to the terror that humans felt regarding them.
And it was only natural, too, that the Undead should become connected with the
practice of
magic. From very early times, Shamans and witchdoctors had claimed at least some
power
and control over the spirits of departed ancestors, and this has continued down
into more
“civilized” times. Formerly, the invisible spirits and forces that thronged around
men’s earliest
encampments, had spoken “through” the tribal Shamans but now, as entities in their
own
right, they were subject to magical control and could be physically summoned by a
competent
sorcerer. However, the relationship between the magician and an Undead creature was
often
a very tenuous and uncertain one. Some sorcerers might have even become Undead
entities
once they died, but they might also have been susceptible to the powers of other
magicians
when they did.
From the Middle Ages and into the Age of Enlightenment, theories of the Undead
continued to
grow and develop. Their names became more familiar—werewolf, vampire, ghoul—each
one
certain to strike fear into the hearts of ordinary humans.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Stories concerning the Undead have always been with us. From out of the primal
darkness of
Mankind’s earliest years, come whispers of eerie creatures, not quite alive (or
alive in a way
which we can understand), yet not quite dead either. These may have been ancient
and
primitive deities who dwelt deep in the surrounding forests and in remote places,
or simply
those deceased who refused to remain in their tombs and who wandered about the
countryside, physically tormenting and frightening those who were still alive.
Mostly they were
ill-defined—strange sounds in the night beyond the comforting glow of the fire, or
a shape,
half-glimpsed in the twilight along the edge of an encampment. They were vague and
indistinct, but they were always there with the power to terrify and disturb. They
had the
power to touch the minds of our early ancestors and to fill them with dread. Such
fear formed
the basis of the earliest tales although the source and exact nature of such
terrors still
remained very vague.
And as Mankind became more sophisticated, leaving the gloom of their caves and
forming
themselves into recognizable communities—towns, cities, whole cultures—so the
Undead
travelled with them, inhabiting their folklore just as they had in former times.
Now they began
to take on more definite shapes. They became walking cadavers; the physical
embodiment of
former deities and things which had existed alongside Man since the Creation. Some
still
remained vague and ill-defined but, as Mankind strove to explain the horror which
it felt
towards them, such creatures emerged more readily into the light.
In order to confirm their abnormal status, many of the Undead were often accorded
attributes,
which defied the natural order of things—the power to transform themselves into
other
shapes, the ability to sustain themselves by drinking human blood, and the ability
to influence
human minds across a distance. Such powers—described as supernatural—only [lent] an
added dimension to the terror that humans felt regarding them.
And it was only natural, too, that the Undead should become connected with the
practice of
magic. From very early times, Shamans and witchdoctors had claimed at least some
power
and control over the spirits of departed ancestors, and this has continued down
into more
“civilized” times. Formerly, the invisible spirits and forces that thronged around
men’s earliest
encampments, had spoken “through” the tribal Shamans but now, as entities in their
own
right, they were subject to magical control and could be physically summoned by a
competent
sorcerer. However, the relationship between the magician and an Undead creature was
often
a very tenuous and uncertain one. Some sorcerers might have even become Undead
entities
once they died, but they might also have been susceptible to the powers of other
magicians
when they did.
From the Middle Ages and into the Age of Enlightenment, theories of the Undead
continued to
grow and develop. Their names became more familiar—we
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Stories concerning the Undead have always been with us. From out of the primal
darkness of
Mankind’s earliest years, come whispers of eerie creatures, not quite alive (or
alive in a way
which we can understand), yet not quite dead either. These may have been ancient
and
primitive deities who dwelt deep in the surrounding forests and in remote places,
or simply
those deceased who refused to remain in their tombs and who wandered about the
countryside, physically tormenting and frightening those who were still alive.
Mostly they were
ill-defined—strange sounds in the night beyond the comforting glow of the fire, or
a shape,
half-glimpsed in the twilight along the edge of an encampment. They were vague and
indistinct, but they were always there with the power to terrify and disturb. They
had the
power to touch the minds of our early ancestors and to fill them with dread. Such
fear formed
the basis of the earliest tales although the source and exact nature of such
terrors still
remained very vague.
And as Mankind became more sophisticated, leaving the gloom of their caves and
forming
themselves into recognizable communities—towns, cities, whole cultures—so the
Undead
travelled with them, inhabiting their folklore just as they had in former times.
Now they began
to take on more definite shapes. They became walking cadavers; the physical
embodiment of
former deities and things which had existed alongside Man since the Creation. Some
still
remained vague and ill-defined but, as Mankind strove to explain the horror which
it felt
towards them, such creatures emerged more readily into the light.
In order to confirm their abnormal status, many of the Undead were often accorded
attributes,
which defied the natural order of things—the power to transform themselves into
other
shapes, the ability to sustain themselves by drinking human blood, and the ability
to influence
human minds across a distance. Such powers—described as supernatural—only [lent] an
added dimension to the terror that humans felt regarding them.
And it was only natural, too, that the Undead should become connected with the
practice of
magic. From very early times, Shamans and witchdoctors had claimed at least some
power
and control over the spirits of departed ancestors, and this has continued down
into more
“civilized” times. Formerly, the invisible spirits and forces that thronged around
men’s earliest
encampments, had spoken “through” the tribal Shamans but now, as entities in their
own
right, they were subject to magical control and could be physically summoned by a
competent
sorcerer. However, the relationship between the magician and an Undead creature was
often
a very tenuous and uncertain one. Some sorcerers might have even become Undead
entities
once they died, but they might also have been susceptible to the powers of other
magicians
when they did.
From the Middle Ages and into the Age of Enlightenment, theories of the Undead
continued to
grow and develop. Their names became more familiar—werewolf, vampire, ghoul—each
one
certain to strike fear into the hearts of ordinary humans.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Critical theory of technology is a political theory of modernity with a normative
dimension. It
belongs to a tradition extending from Marx to Foucault and Habermas according to
which
advances in the formal claims of human rights take center stage while in the
background
centralization of ever more powerful public institutions and private organizations
imposes an
authoritarian social order.
Marx attributed this trajectory to the capitalist rationalization of production.
Today it marks
many institutions besides the factory and every modern political system, including
so-called
socialist systems. This trajectory arose from the problems of command over a
disempowered
and deskilled labor force; but everywhere [that] masses are organized – whether it
be
Foucault’s prisons or Habermas’s public sphere – the same pattern prevails.
Technological
design and development is shaped by this pattern as the material base of a
distinctive social
order. Marcuse would later point to a “project” as the basis of what he called
rather
confusingly “technological rationality.” Releasing technology from this project is
a democratic
political task.
In accordance with this general line of thought, critical theory of technology
regards
technologies as an environment rather than as a collection of tools. We live today
with and
even within technologies that determine our way of life. Along with the constant
pressures to
build centers of power, many other social values and meanings are inscribed in
technological
design. A hermeneutics of technology must make explicit the meanings implicit in
the
devices we use and the rituals they script. Social histories of technologies such
as the
bicycle, artificial lighting or firearms have made important contributions to this
type of
analysis. Critical theory of technology attempts to build a methodological approach
on the
lessons of these histories.
As an environment, technologies shape their inhabitants. In this respect, they are
comparable
to laws and customs. Each of these institutions can be said to represent those who
live under
their sway through privileging certain dimensions of their human nature. Laws of
property
represent the interest in ownership and control. Customs such as parental authority
represent
the interest of childhood in safety and growth. Similarly, the automobile
represents its users in
so far as they are interested in mobility. Interests such as these constitute the
version of
human nature sanctioned by society.
This notion of representation does not imply an eternal human nature. The concept
of nature
as non-identity in the Frankfurt School suggests an alternative. On these terms,
nature is what
lies at the limit of history, at the point at which society loses the capacity to
imprint its
meanings on things and control them effectively. The reference here is, of course,
not to the
nature of natural science, but to the lived nature in which we find ourselves and
which we are.
This nature reveals itself as that which cannot be totally encompassed by the
machinery of
society. For the Frankfurt School, human nature, in all its transcending force,
emerges out of a
historical context as that context is [depicted] in illicit joys, struggles and
pathologies. We can
perhaps admit a less romantic . . . conception in which those dimensions of human
nature
recognized by society are also granted theoretical legitimacy.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Critical theory of technology is a political theory of modernity with a normative
dimension. It
belongs to a tradition extending from Marx to Foucault and Habermas according to
which
advances in the formal claims of human rights take center stage while in the
background
centralization of ever more powerful public institutions and private organizations
imposes an
authoritarian social order.
Marx attributed this trajectory to the capitalist rationalization of production.
Today it marks
many institutions besides the factory and every modern political system, including
so-called
socialist systems. This trajectory arose from the problems of command over a
disempowered
and deskilled labor force; but everywhere [that] masses are organized – whether it
be
Foucault’s prisons or Habermas’s public sphere – the same pattern prevails.
Technological
design and development is shaped by this pattern as the material base of a
distinctive social
order. Marcuse would later point to a “project” as the basis of what he called
rather
confusingly “technological rationality.” Releasing technology from this project is
a democratic
political task.
In accordance with this general line of thought, critical theory of technology
regards
technologies as an environment rather than as a collection of tools. We live today
with and
even within technologies that determine our way of life. Along with the constant
pressures to
build centers of power, many other social values and meanings are inscribed in
technological
design. A hermeneutics of technology must make explicit the meanings implicit in
the
devices we use and the rituals they script. Social histories of technologies such
as the
bicycle, artificial lighting or firearms have made important contributions to this
type of
analysis. Critical theory of technology attempts to build a methodological approach
on the
lessons of these histories.
As an environment, technologies shape their inhabitants. In this respect, they are
comparable
to laws and customs. Each of these institutions can be said to represent those who
live under
their sway through privileging certain dimensions of their human nature. Laws of
property
represent the interest in ownership and control. Customs such as parental authority
represent
the interest of childhood in safety and growth. Similarly, the automobile
represents its users in
so far as they are interested in mobility. Interests such as these constitute the
version of
human nature sanctioned by society.
This notion of representation does not imply an eternal human nature. The concept
of nature
as non-identity in the Frankfurt School suggests an alternative. On these terms,
nature is what
lies at the limit of history, at the point at which society loses the capacity to
imprint its
meanings on things and control them effectively. The reference here is, of course,
not to the
nature of natural science, but to the lived nature in which we find ourselves and
which we are.
This nature reveals itself as that which cannot be totally encompassed by the
machinery of
society. For the Frankfurt School, human nature, in all its transcending force,
emerges out of a
historical context as that context is [depicted] in illicit joys, struggles and
pathologies. We can
perhaps admit a less romantic . . . conception in which those dimensions of human
nature
recognized by society are also granted theoretical legitimacy.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Critical theory of technology is a political theory of modernity with a normative
dimension. It
belongs to a tradition extending from Marx to Foucault and Habermas according to
which
advances in the formal claims of human rights take center stage while in the
background
centralization of ever more powerful public institutions and private organizations
imposes an
authoritarian social order.
Marx attributed this trajectory to the capitalist rationalization of production.
Today it marks
many institutions besides the factory and every modern political system, including
so-called
socialist systems. This trajectory arose from the problems of command over a
disempowered
and deskilled labor force; but everywhere [that] masses are organized – whether it
be
Foucault’s prisons or Habermas’s public sphere – the same pattern prevails.
Technological
design and development is shaped by this pattern as the material base of a
distinctive social
order. Marcuse would later point to a “project” as the basis of what he called
rather
confusingly “technological rationality.” Releasing technology from this project is
a democratic
political task.
In accordance with this general line of thought, critical theory of technology
regards
technologies as an environment rather than as a collection of tools. We live today
with and
even within technologies that determine our way of life. Along with the constant
pressures to
build centers of power, many other social values and meanings are inscribed in
technological
design. A hermeneutics of technology must make explicit the meanings implicit in
the
devices we use and the rituals they script. Social histories of technologies such
as the
bicycle, artificial lighting or firearms have made important contributions to this
type of
analysis. Critical theory of technology attempts to build a methodological approach
on the
lessons of these histories.
As an environment, technologies shape their inhabitants. In this respect, they are
comparable
to laws and customs. Each of these institutions can be said to represent those who
live under
their sway through privileging certain dimensions of their human nature. Laws of
property
represent the interest in ownership and control. Customs such as parental authority
represent
the interest of childhood in safety and growth. Similarly, the automobile
represents its users in
so far as they are interested in mobility. Interests such as these constitute the
version of
human nature sanctioned by society.
This notion of representation does not imply an eternal human nature. The concept
of nature
as non-identity in the Frankfurt School suggests an alternative. On these terms,
nature is what
lies at the limit of history, at the point at which society loses the capacity to
imprint its
meanings on things and control them effectively. The reference here is, of course,
not to the
nature of natural science, but to the lived nature in which we find ourselves and
which we are.
This nature reveals itself as that which cannot be totally encompassed by the
machinery of
society. For the Frankfurt School, human nature, in all its transcending force,
emerges out of a
historical context as that context is [depicted] in illicit joys, struggles and
pathologies. We can
perhaps admit a less romantic . . . conception in which those dimensions of human
nature
recognized by society are also granted theoretical legitimacy.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each
question.
Critical theory of technology is a political theory of modernity with a normative
dimension. It
belongs to a tradition extending from Marx to Foucault and Habermas according to
which
advances in the formal claims of human rights take center stage while in the
background
centralization of ever more powerful public institutions and private organizations
imposes an
authoritarian social order.
Marx attributed this trajectory to the capitalist rationalization of production.
Today it marks
many institutions besides the factory and every modern political system, including
so-called
socialist systems. This trajectory arose from the problems of command over a
disempowered
and deskilled labor force; but everywhere [that] masses are organized – whether it
be
Foucault’s prisons or Habermas’s public sphere – the same pattern prevails.
Technological
design and development is shaped by this pattern as the material base of a
distinctive social
order. Marcuse would later point to a “project” as the basis of what he called
rather
confusingly “technological rationality.” Releasing technology from this project is
a democratic
political task.
In accordance with this general line of thought, critical theory of technology
regards
technologies as an environment rather than as a collection of tools. We live today
with and
even within technologies that determine our way of life. Along with the constant
pressures to
build centers of power, many other social values and meanings are inscribed in
technological
design. A hermeneutics of technology must make explicit the meanings implicit in
the
devices we use and the rituals they script. Social histories of technologies such
as the
bicycle, artificial lighting or firearms have made important contributions to this
type of
analysis. Critical theory of technology attempts to build a methodological approach
on the
lessons of these histories.
As an environment, technologies shape their inhabitants. In this respect, they are
comparable
to laws and customs. Each of these institutions can be said to represent those who
live under
their sway through privileging certain dimensions of their human nature. Laws of
property
represent the interest in ownership and control. Customs such as parental authority
represent
the interest of childhood in safety and growth. Similarly, the automobile
represents its users in
so far as they are interested in mobility. Interests such as these constitute the
version of
human nature sanctioned by society.
This notion of representation does not imply an eternal human nature. The concept
of nature
as non-identity in the Frankfurt School suggests an alternative. On these terms,
nature is what
lies at the limit of history, at the point at which society loses the capacity to
imprint its
meanings on things and control them effectively. The reference here is, of course,
not to the
nature of natural science, but to the lived nature in which we find ourselves and
which we are.
This nature reveals itself as that which cannot be totally encompassed by the
machinery of
society. For the Frankfurt School, human nature, in all its transcending force,
emerges out of a
historical context as that context is [depicted] in illicit joys, struggles and
pathologies. We can
perhaps admit a less romantic . . . conception in which those dimensions of human
nature
recognized by society are also granted theoretical legitimacy.
SubQuestion No : 16
Q.16 All of the following claims can be inferred from the passage, EXCEPThere is a
sentence that is missing in the paragraph below. Look at the paragraph and
decide in which blank (option 1, 2, 3, or 4) the following sentence would best fit.
Sentence: Having made citizens more and less knowledgeable than their predecessors,
the
Internet has proved to be both a blessing and a curse.
Paragraph: Never before has a population, nearly all of whom has enjoyed at a least
a
secondary school education, been exposed to so much information, whether in
newspapers
and magazines or through YouTube, Google, and Facebook. ___(1)___. Yet it is not
clear that
people today are more knowledgeable than their barely literate predecessors.
Contemporary advances in technology offered more serious and inquisitive students
access
to realms of knowledge previously unimaginable and unavailable. ___(2)___. But such
readily
available knowledge leads many more students away from serious study, the reading
of
actual texts, and toward an inability to write effectively and grammatically.
___(3)___. It has
let people choose sources that reinforce their opinions rather than encouraging
them to
The best way to improve your VARC skill is Reading. Read tons of stuff from
Bharath's Curated Reading list and get a wonderful VARC score.

The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each question.

[Octopuses are] misfits in their own extended families . . . They belong to the
Mollusca class Cephalopoda. But they don't look like their cousins at all. Other
molluscs include sea snails, sea slugs, bivalves - most are shelled invertebrates
with a dorsal foot. Cephalopods are all arms, and can be as tiny as 1 centimetre
and as large at 30 feet. Some of them have brains the size of a walnut, which is
large for an invertebrate. . . .

It makes sense for these molluscs to have added protection in the form of a higher
cognition; they don't have a shell covering them, and pretty much everything feeds
on cephalopods, including humans. But how did cephalopods manage to secure their
own invisibility cloak? Cephalopods fire from multiple cylinders to achieve this in
varying degrees from species to species. There are four main catalysts -
chromatophores, iridophores, papillae and leucophores. . . .

[Chromatophores] are organs on their bodies that contain pigment sacs, which have
red, yellow and brown pigment granules. These sacs have a network of radial
muscles, meaning muscles arranged in a circle radiating outwards. These are
connected to the brain by a nerve. When the cephalopod wants to change colour, the
brain carries an electrical impulse through the nerve to the muscles that expand
outwards, pulling open the sacs to display the colours on the skin. Why these three
colours? Because these are the colours the light reflects at the depths they live
in (the rest is absorbed before it reaches those depths). . . .

Well, what about other colours? Cue the iridophores. Think of a second level of
skin that has thin stacks of cells. These can reflect light back at different
wavelengths. . . . It's using the same properties that we've seen in hologram
stickers, or rainbows on puddles of oil. You move your head and you see a different
colour. The sticker isn't doing anything but reflecting light - it's your movement
that's changing the appearance of the colour. This property of holograms, oil and
other such surfaces is called "iridescence". . . .

Papillae are sections of the skin that can be deformed to make a texture bumpy.
Even humans possess them (goosebumps) but cannot use them in the manner that
cephalopods can. For instance, the use of these cells is how an octopus can wrap
itself over a rock and appear jagged or how a squid or cuttlefish can imitate the
look of a coral reef by growing miniature towers on its skin. It actually matches
the texture of the substrate it chooses.

Finally, the leucophores: According to a paper, published in Nature, cuttlefish and

octopuses possess an additional type of reflector cell called a leucophore. They
are cells that scatter full spectrum light so that they appear white in a similar
way that a polar bear's fur appears white. Leucophores will also reflect any
filtered light shown on them . . . If the water appears blue at a certain depth,
the octopuses and cuttlefish can appear blue; if the water appears green, they
appear green, and so on and so forth.
The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to
each question.

We begin with the emergence of the philosophy of the social sciences as an arena of
thought and as a set of social institutions. The two characterisations overlap but
are not congruent. Academic disciplines are social institutions. . . . My view is
that institutions are all those social entities that organise action: they link
acting individuals into social structures. There are various kinds of institutions.
Hegelians and Marxists emphasise universal institutions such as the family,
rituals, governance, economy and the military. These are mostly institutions that
just grew. Perhaps in some imaginary beginning of time they spontaneously appeared.
In their present incarnations, however, they are very much the product of conscious
attempts to mould and plan them. We have family law, established and disestablished
churches, constitutions and laws, including those governing the economy and the
military. Institutions deriving from statute, like joint-stock companies are formal
by contrast with informal ones such as friendships. There are some institutions
that come in both informal and formal variants, as well as in mixed ones. Consider
the fact that the stock exchange and the black market are both market institutions,
one formal one not. Consider further that there are many features of the work of
the stock exchange that rely on informal, noncodifiable agreements, not least the
language used for communication. To be precise, mixtures are the norm . . . From
constitutions at the top to by-laws near the bottom we are always adding to, or
tinkering with, earlier institutions, the grown and the designed are intertwined.

It is usual in social thought to treat culture and tradition as different from,

although alongside, institutions. The view taken here is different. Culture and
tradition are sub-sets of institutions analytically isolated for explanatory or
expository purposes. Some social scientists have taken all institutions, even
purely local ones, to be entities that satisfy basic human needs - under local
conditions . . . Others differed and declared any structure of reciprocal roles and
norms an institution. Most of these differences are differences of emphasis rather
than disagreements. Let us straddle all these versions and present institutions
very generally . . . as structures that serve to coordinate the actions of
individuals. . . . Institutions themselves then have no aims or purpose other than
those given to them by actors or used by actors to explain them . . .

Language is the formative institution for social life and for science . . . Both
formal and informal language is involved, naturally grown or designed. (Language is
all of these to varying degrees.) Languages are paradigms of institutions or, from
another perspective, nested sets of institutions. Syntax, semantics, lexicon and
alphabet/character-set are all institutions within the larger institutional
framework of a written language. Natural languages are typical examples of what
Ferguson called 'the result of human action, but not the execution of any human
design'[;] reformed natural languages and artificial languages introduce design
into their modifications or refinements of natural language. Above all, languages
are paradigms of institutional tools that function to [Link] passage below
is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each question.

When we teach engineering problems now, we ask students to come to a single "best"
solution defined by technical ideals like low cost, speed to build, and ability to
scale. This way of teaching primes students to believe that their decision-making
is purely objective, as it is grounded in math and science. This is known as
technical-social dualism, the idea that the technical and social dimensions of
engineering problems are readily separable and remain distinct throughout the
problem-definition and solution process.

Nontechnical parameters such as access to a technology, cultural relevancy or

potential harms are deemed political and invalid in this way of learning. But those
technical ideals are at their core social and political choices determined by a
dominant culture focused on economic growth for the most privileged segments of
society. By choosing to downplay public welfare as a critical parameter for
engineering design, we risk creating a culture of disengagement from societal
concerns amongst engineers that is antithetical to the ethical code of engineering.

In my field of medical devices, ignoring social dimensions has real consequences. .

. . Most FDA-approved drugs are incorrectly dosed for people assigned female at
birth, leading to unexpected adverse reactions. This is because they have been
inadequately represented in clinical trials.

Beyond physical failings, subjective beliefs treated as facts by those in decision-

making roles can encode social inequities. For example, spirometers, routinely used
devices that measure lung capacity, still have correction factors that
automatically assume smaller lung capacity in Black and Asian individuals. These
racially based adjustments are derived from research done by eugenicists who
thought these racial differences were biologically determined and who considered
nonwhite people as inferior. These machines ignore the influence of social and
environmental factors on lung capacity.

Many technologies for systemically marginalized people have not been built because
they were not deemed important such as better early diagnostics and treatment for
diseases like endometriosis, a disease that afflicts 10 percent of people with
uteruses. And we hardly question whether devices are built sustainably, which has
led to a crisis of medical waste and health care accounting for 10 percent of U.S.
greenhouse gas emissions.

Social justice must be made core to the way engineers are trained. Some
universities are working on this. . . . Engineers taught this way will be prepared
to think critically about what problems we choose to solve, how we do so
responsibly and how we build teams that challenge our ways of thinking.
Individual engineering professors are also working to embed societal needs in their
pedagogy. Darshan Karwat at the University of Arizona developed activist
engineering to challenge engineers to acknowledge their full moral and social
responsibility through practical self-reflection. Khalid Kadir at the University of
California, Berkeley, created the popular course Engineering, Environment, and
Society that teaches engineers how to engage in place-based knowledge, an
understanding of the people, context and history, to design better technical
approaches in collaboration with communities. When we design and build with equity
and justice in mind, we craft better solutions that respond to the complexities of
entrenched systemic [Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of
questions. Choose the best answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .
The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern
humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.
If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its
emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.
Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.
This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .
The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern
humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.
If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its
emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.
This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.
Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.
Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.
Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .
The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern
humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.
If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its
emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.
Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.
This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .
The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern
humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.
If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its
emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.
This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.
Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.
Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.
Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .
The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern
humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.
If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its
emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.
Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.
This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .
The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern
humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.
If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its
emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.
This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.
Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.
Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.
Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
[Link] passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best
answer to each question.

Humans today make music. Think beyond all the qualifications that might trail after
this bald statement: that only certain humans make music, that extensive training
is involved, that many societies distinguish musical specialists from nonmusicians,
that in today's societies most listen to music rather than making it, and so forth.
These qualifications, whatever their local merit, are moot in the face of the
overarching truth that making music, considered from a cognitive and psychological
vantage, is the province of all those who perceive and experience what is made. We
are, almost all of us, musicians - everyone who can entrain (not necessarily dance)
to a beat, who can recognize a repeated tune (not necessarily sing it), who can
distinguish one instrument or one singing voice from another. I will often use an
antique word, recently revived, to name this broader musical experience. Humans are
musicking creatures. . . .

The set of capacities that enables musicking is a principal marker of modern

humanity. There is nothing polemical in this assertion except a certain insistence,
which will figure often in what follows, that musicking be included in our thinking
about fundamental human commonalities. Capacities involved in musicking are many
and take shape in complicated ways, arising from innate dispositions . . . Most of
these capacities overlap with nonmusical ones, though a few may be distinct and
dedicated to musical perception and production. In the area of overlap, linguistic
capacities seem to be particularly important, and humans are (in principle)
language-makers in addition to music-makers - speaking creatures as well as
musicking ones.

Humans are symbol-makers too, a feature tightly bound up with language, not so
tightly with music. The species Cassirer dubbed Homo symbolicus cannot help but
tangle musicking in webs of symbolic thought and expression, habitually making it a
component of behavioral complexes that form such expression. But in fundamental
features musicking is neither language-like nor symbol-like, and from these
differences come many clues to its ancient emergence.

If musicking is a primary, shared trait of modern humans, then to describe its

emergence must be to detail the coalescing of that modernity. This took place,
archaeologists are clear, over a very long durée: at least 50,000 years or so, more
likely something closer to 200,000, depending in part on what that coalescence is
taken to comprise. If we look back 20,000 years, a small portion of this long
period, we reach the lives of humans whose musical capacities were probably little
different from our own. As we look farther back we reach horizons where this
similarity can no longer hold - perhaps 40,000 years ago, perhaps 70,000, perhaps
100,000. But we never cross a line before which all the cognitive capacities
recruited in modern musicking abruptly disappear. Unless we embrace the incredible
notion that music sprang forth in full-blown glory, its emergence will have to be
tracked in gradualist terms across a long period.

This is one general feature of a history of music's emergence . . . The history was
at once sociocultural and biological . . . The capacities recruited in musicking
are many, so describing its emergence involves following several or many separate
strands.