What we perceive as rhythm from a certain perspective, is perceived at a faster time of perception as pitch, with its melodic implications.If we take a stick and hit an object with it at a rate of once every second, we hear the sound of that object very consciously once a second. If the succession of the impulses of sound are precise within a certain amount of accuracy, we feel a sensation which we call sensing a beat. Now, if we speed up the rate of impulses from 1 Hz to 300 Hz, the sensation of what we hear changes in a very drastic way. In this case we hear a pitch at 300 Hz and will not feel a sensation of beat. However, if we speed up the impulses gradually, depending on the timbre of the object we experience different sensations. In general, the beat first changes to a texture in the fuzzy boundaries, and then it becomes a pitch. Structures of pitch and rhythm, which are classically two very different concepts, can be related to each other just by changing the scale in which they are being perceived. When we listen to very fast rhythms (such as African, Indian, or Persian drumming, minimal music of Steve Reich, or simply a roll of a drum) we do not consciously hear every impulse; we listen to the texture that these rhythms create. Many art rock musicians (such as Brian Eno) view their music as textures, which means that even if the underlying musical structures which are employed to create every layer sound simple (and in fact they usually are complex and only sound simple), and repetitive, the combination of the sounds together is a texture which is pleasing and interesting to the ear as a whole.
We can establish a relationship between pitch and sound, since we associate with both of them a feeling of instantaneousness. We can also establish the same relationship between rhythm and music for their progressive elements in time. However, we can change these relationships around. For example, in the context of tonal music, the basis of what is felt as consonances or dissonances is in the relationship of the pitches of what constitutes the chords, and much of the analysis which is based on the linear form usually views music as a sequences of pitches[38, page 29]. Therefore, in that regard we should relate pitch and music to each other. The connection between rhythm and sound is rather more difficult to grasp. If indeed we listen to rhythms as textures, we are listening to them as instantaneous entities. If we assume that music is information and sound acts as a medium, the sense of beat, by the assurance of being static, acts as a medium for a musical idea being transmitted as a form of melody on top of the beat. On a larger time scale, perhaps the feeling of form is not as much of a conscious entity, as the feeling of pitch or beat are.
If we are able to perceive a single musical idea in many different scales of perception as melody, rhythm, or form, and if indeed, it is the single musical unit which manifests itself as these apparently different perceptual values, what happens if a musical idea defines structures which lie between these perceptual boundaries? Does it not make more sense to believe that there exists a physical continuum between these sensations and (to put it in Schoenberg's term) that their difference is only a matter of degree and not of kind? To put these perceptual actions into separate categories implies that listening to music is a logical act, while the logic of it has no physical basis. To be more specific, our senses detect a certain coherency in different scales of time, and all of them are sensed at the same time. If these senses are not connected to each other through our physical apparatus, there has to exist a layer which suddenly changes all these sensations to ``meaning'' and creates a whole out of them. To assume that such intelligence can exist without any physical basis is inconceivable. Music is an imitation of sound in nature. Listening to music, as well as any other ``intelligent'' act we do, is a physical action and should not be explained by metaphysics. Our intelligence is nothing but a sensation, which itself comes from the physical connection of our five senses in time.