By Jason Palmer
Science and technology reporter, BBC News
A music-making game and technology installation that allows anyone to create a music track and video in just six minutes has been unveiled.
Youth Music Box allows four people – of any age and musical ability – to play electronic instruments and collaborate on digital music projects.
Finished pieces are uploaded to a music sharing website.
The system has been developed by music charity Youth Music and was unveiled at London’s Southbank Centre on Friday.
It will remain in the capital until September, when it will travel to Bristol and then Gateshead.
The project is to celebrate the 10th birthday of the Lottery-funded charity, which exists to get children up to the age of 18 interested in music.
Many children first presented with an opportunity to make music are daunted by the complexity of playing a traditional instrument.
"We’ve found that for a lot of kids that their first go at making music is via technology," explained Youth Music’s Michelle James, "and over the last couple of years that has meant kids playing console games like Wii Music and Rock Band."
"It’s kind of a rhythmic game with a musical output"
Nathan Prince
Silent Studios
"We did some research that demonstrated that a large proportion of those young people trying out music games were inspired to go off and learn an instrument.
"We were looking for a way to capture that and make it available publicly over the summer holiday so loads of kids can come in and try it out."
Youth Music contacted music-based design agency Silent Studios and interactive artist Chris O’Shea to come up with a project in which kids of any age can make music, without having any training.
Audio+visual
Inside the box is a seamless mix of high-tech instruments built into a round table: two electronic keyboards, electronic drums, and a digital turntable.
Four people sit down at the table and are offered six music genres to choose from to make their song, providing them with a basic rhythm to start with.
"We did a lot of testing with this and for non-musicians, if it’s just about playing an instrument they get turned off really quickly," said Nathan Prince, Silent Studios’ creative director.
"They don’t know to structure a song or to write a melody. I didn’t know how to create a beat, for example. So you need a certain amount that’s a given that you can paint on top of."
What makes the instruments playable for anyone – and the resulting music to sound good with ease – is that the rhythms, percussion, and instrumental and vocal samples have been recorded by 15 professional musicians.

Each key on the keyboard launches samples that fit the chosen genre and were written to work together melodically.
"It’s kind of a rhythmic game with a musical output," said Mr Prince.
Adding to the experience are the visual effects that happen in the middle of the table as the instruments are played. Each sound is accompanied by a stream or explosion of colourful pixels near the instrument, projected onto the table from above.
"We really wanted something that had a real audio-visual effect.
"We felt that if it was just music alone, it was just half the story," Mr Prince said.
After two minutes of practice with the instruments, recording begins and remotely controlled cameras in the box film the proceedings.
During the one-minute recording, two technicians behind the scenes do a live video and audio mix, making a complete music video that is uploaded straight to the Youth Music website.
"It’s almost like [a theme park] where you get a photo at the end of the ride – we wanted to do that in a way that’s more shareable."</p
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The Lib Dem power failure
The party controls swaths of urban Britain but lacks the leadership and vision our great cities require
With growing confidence, Nick Clegg is making his mark at Westminster. On Trident, on Afghanistan and, at yesterday’s prime minister’s questions, in condemning parliament’s inability to reform itself, the Liberal Democrat leader is asking the tough questions and hinting at a more radical and progressive political future.
But in power it’s a rather different story. For after last month’s victories in the local elections, Clegg’s party is now a major player in public life. In control of Bristol, Liverpool, Hull and Sheffield; part of a Tory coalition governing Birmingham and Leeds; and in charge of numerous London boroughs. The Lib Dems are dictating the shape of great swaths of urban Britain. And just then the confidence and bravery on show in SW1 appears to dissipate. All too often an insurgency party, built on grassroots campaigns about town hall excess and mending fences, lacks the political vision to govern our greatest cities.
All politics is local – an aphorism the Lib Dems have burned into their retina. When it comes to speed-bumps, cycle-paths, planning applications and all the miserable frustrations of suburban life, the party is there, making a difference. Organised, motivated, and effective, they pick up council seat after council seat where there is any whiff of one -party hubris.
But such a parochial focus inevitably causes political contradictions. As the London Green party leader Jenny Jones has deftly chronicled, Clegg’s troops are against roadbuilding – apart from the Newbury, Batheaston, and Lancaster bypasses. They are opposed to the expansion of Heathrow in south-west London, but in favour of the growth of Birmingham, Manchester and Liverpool airports. And they are against incinerators – apart from when they are for them, in Exeter, Plymouth and Barnstaple.
One could see this as an admirable display of localism, with each regional party defining its policy agenda. Yet it might also hint at the woeful lack of a governing ideology, allowing the party to position itself as a perennial protest vote. Perhaps the Lib Dems are the party of liberty – but how does one explain their passion for CCTV cameras? Maybe it is the party of social justice, but not if it means free school meals in Hull or Islington.
In fact, amid all the campaigns and promises of action, the Lib Dem offer at local government usually boils down to the chance to throw the buggers out, maintain an inflation-linked council tax, and have the refuse collected regularly. Not one of those is an ignoble ambition for millions of residents. But when it comes to leading our cities, a grander civic sense is surely called for.
And here the Liberals have a proud history. It was Joseph Chamberlain‘s municipal socialism that transformed Birmingham in the 1870s, slicing Victoria Square and Corporation Street and Council House Square (later Victoria Square) through the fetid, medieval core of the city,by clearing 40 acres of slums and taking control of gas and water in the process. “Ward meetings assumed a new character,” recalled a contemporary. “They spoke of sweeping away streets in which it was not possible to live a healthy and decent life; of making the town cleaner, sweeter and brighter; of providing gardens and parks and music; of erecting baths and free libraries, an art gallery and a museum.” Chamberlain delivered these changes with the backing of a Liberal party unafraid to think big. Overriding local ward objections, Chamberlain “parked, paved, assized, marketed, Gas-and-Watered and improved Birmingham” – all within three years.
In the past decade, Britain’s cities have undergone similar urban renewal – in the sage words of Michael Heseltine, “the biggest investment and regeneration since the Victorian age”. Post-industrial conurbations have revitalised their city centres, begun to conserve their civic fabric, and attracted new residents and businesses (if not yet tackled the problems of schooling), all of which have necessitated taking risks with big capital projects such as trams and business parks, thinking strategically about the international brand of a city, and confronting vested interests.
Precisely such a policy has transformed Manchester under Sir Richard Leese’s leadership. Glasgow is heading in the same direction under Steven Purcell. Even Wandsworth council under Tory leader Edward Lister – philistine and reactionary as it is – has a sense of civic purpose. Yet you will look in vain for a similar spirit of urban ambition from many Lib Dem leaders, too often focused on the cracks in the pavement rather than the true measure of a metropolis. In Hull and Bristol it is too early to tell, but in Sheffield they are already undermining a global reputation for sporting excellence and, in Leeds, the council is putting that city’s creative regeneration at risk with cuts to the arts and voluntary sector.
Of course, there are many progressive Lib Dem councils: Richmond has pioneered a range of quality-of-life policies, while Liverpool has invested in a cultural strategy embracing the entire city. And, of course, the party plays an essential part in the ecology of democratic pluralism. But I know what a Tory council stands for, and I know what a Labour council does, but I have no idea what a Liberal town looks like – apart from boasting some well managed controlled parking zones.