At times some birds join in, overall compared to the tracks before that, I hear a softer wind sound and enjoy the sensation of extended existential ambience.
Shake your dust
“Recorded in the moment. Isolated. Spent a year alone. Field recorded. Taking it all in. So much to hear. A positive force to be calm, patient and waiting. Waiting for the spark of something. Bird sounds. Starlight. Photons traveling across millennia. What if we’re all joined together in a wave function? Time functions by additive synthesis. Timelines vibrate. Our experiences resonate. There’s more to life than the hours you put in each day. Give yourself up to listen more. Feel more. Shake your dust. Dub the storm through your very being. You’re made up of the stuff of the beginning of universes. Live like it!”
A field recording is when you just start recording and let it take in the sounds there at that time—in this case, distant birds or the sound of water, etc. The tracks with long numbers for names (tracks 1, 4, 5, 7, 9, 11 and 12) are the field recordings, the tracks with words for names (“Storm Dub,” “Shake the Dust,” “Quiver,” “Mod Fingers,” and “Glen Nell”) are all electronic.
Opening to dead silence; gradually a breeze gets louder and stronger, this becomes a hissing sound that could be water rushing or a waterfall, “46.20139789502608, -123.99492874346663” (1:24). Following with energizing rapid fire beats and tones, “Storm Dub” (8:57), an electronic frame weaving occasional blasts into the mix. I swear to you I sense a galloping beast running along, hoofing past some rare blasts and disruptive sharp tones, with some odd creatures flying too. I am grateful for their relentless power, which starts spinning off into new places. By the end of the track, I see the same galloping beast, but in a completely different territory. “Shake The Dust” (2:55) is a strange dance, the beat is warped and keeps a grip, I want to say I hear electronic oil cans, melodic beats repeating endlessly, come clean. Until the end.
Silence slowly displaced ::
Silence slowly displaced by distant birds of summer, getting warm and sunny somewhere nice: “45.36745914449436, -121.53666692485291” (1:29), a blessed empty ambience that fades. Next comes the cricket acid mix, “44.07816124306696, -121.72807453309274” (3:59). I hear a different tone or hiss of ambience somehow, and the sound is super subtle. Under the hiss I know I hear insects trilling somewhere, it is hard to be certain how many or where. I hear signs of some very high frequency tones, the effect is my personal favorite, empty ambience with whiffs and hints of nocturnal insect trill hallucinations. I could be wrong, the sound is hidden in the hiss of the location noise. Here come the tones, a strange melody or just some twists and bends, “Quiver” (2:46) is snappy and a brisk thump bumps and writhes out, bumping kinetic tones enveloped under an abrupt and disturbing beat. Now the silence. “45.56888202386189, -122.76722470280684” (2:10), soon there is water falling, I think I hear rain or a spray with dripping and the constant sound of water flowing, this must be the rain drops drum mix, fade into silent ambience.
Now the “Mod Fingers” (2:38) have a firm grip, blasting a melodic dance with crashes in tonality, and the beats. Surely nobody is sleeping here, the beat grows and gets stronger, throbbing melodic beats. Until “45.36745914449436, -121.53666692485291” (2:22) which brings back beloved birds in the breeze, it feels warm and sunny, sometimes the birds are getting closer. I just heard a fly buzz nearby.
Here begins the long track, “Glen Nell” (10:27) with beats throbbing and lots of disruptive tones blasting through, the beat’s grasp is solid. And then along comes my other favorite track, “45.37959913082959, -121.87663303966139” (1:34) There is a warm silence, then a slowly emerging ambient hiss that ultimately grows into a waterfall, louder and louder crashing splashing roaring into a cold cut. The closing track brings us back with “44.07816124306696, -121.72807453309274” (4:42), at times some birds join in, overall compared to the tracks before that, I hear a softer wind sound and enjoy the sensation of extended existential ambience.
Recorded & written by Chris H. Jones 2021: 44° N 121° W – 46° N 124° W
Field Recorded is available on Yard Rec. [Bandcamp]
