I guess it makes sense to think noise is bad and sound is good but it's not the way I think about audible material.
The distinction seems to be a value based on subjective experience. A
noise might be unappreciated as sound one particular moment. If I'm making a recording, then
maybe I have some control over the role of noise among the sounds I
curate. But, do these decisions make me a noise snob?
So, I asked Tim "What do you make of the term ‘noise’ as a genre?" I used to hate all that noise.
"(I
am not including the genre of music know as ‘noise’ in that sense)" he
added to his reply, which is a shame since I was attempting to
deconstruct the binary logic of his terms. Then he might recognise that noise can be valuable too.
(Edit: Here's Tim's reply on Twitter.)
About
decade ago I had definitive 'A-ha!' moment when I couldn't sustain the
distinction between noise and sound. I remember going along to a few of
the Wagga Space Program's Unsound events and found myself annoyed by the 'noise'
artists who'd play an interesting field recording or other ambient
sounds and then interrupt it with white noise.
The contrast
between a soothing sound and a loud noise was interesting once or twice,
particularly as texture on a large sound system. After a couple of artists did it during their sets, it seemed like a 'noise' artist cliche. It lead me to realise
that it was context that made this noise noisy, since I could enjoy it
at other times.
There are plenty of times when music
becomes noise. Being jolted awake by loud music, like an alarm clock, is
one example of music becoming noise. The way music is used during siege
settings or interrogations must also make them seem noisy.
Anyway, I stopped thinking how much I hated 'noise' art and began questioning what else my subjective experience might be stopping me from experiencing. Then I learned that noise could be as interesting as music.
The Wagga Space Program had a cool philosophy
that being based in regional Australia was a key part of their sound.
It
started to make a lot of sense to me when I was introduced to Alan Lamb, whose large-scale aeolian
harp he calls 'the wires' changed the way I listen to sound. Lamb's
wires had been installed outside Wagga Wagga during 2004 and I spent
many hours listening to their shifting harmonics. The sound varied from
test-tone-like hum to softer breathing as the wind caressed
barely-audible vibrations.
Lamb also introduced me to
piezo contact microphones. Recording with these captures vibrations
directly, rather than the vibrations in air captured with a microphone's
diaphragm. It's quite cool to think you're hearing how something feels.
Once
I began thinking of how to use environmental noise in musical remixes,
the difference between noise and sound became a question of frequencies.
It brought into focus the physics of a situation in determining the
value of a sound in my composition.
I've been amazed
at how much variety you get tapping different parts of a slide. Tapping in various places produces different tones.
Like the piping along the sides, the ladder, the sheet that forms the
slide part, etc. Not every sound will be musical, some
might even be called noise. It probably depends how I'm feeling that
day whether I'm feeling a particular sound but plenty find their way
into my recordings.
My 2012 project For 100 Years embraced the idea of noise being musical and drew on the
Italian Futurist movement, in part because they were active at the time
of Leeton's construction. The local newspaper sometimes use inverted commas around the
word "music” in reference to my material. Maybe I'm sensitive to irony but I wonder if some are still getting accustomed to how the concept of music was
challenged in the 20th Century by the idea promoted by John Cage that noise and music overlap
in sound.
I was a musician before moving to
regional NSW but being here has opened my ears to the landscape. Alan Lamb's work can only really exist in a
regional context. The interplay between the surrounding sounds like
birdsong and his wires really captivated me. I spent many hours
listening to the long decay of chirps as well as the rise and fall of
harmonics.
It's no wonder that many romantic poets and composers
have found inspiration in aeolian harps. These sounds changed my
landscape, once I stopped hearing noise.
Just reading the excellent blog Dangerous Minds and saw the words above written by Ian Fleming, famous for writing the James Bond novels.
It strikes me as something that some of the professional artists I've had dealings with could learn from. I've been disappointed a couple of times now to have shared information about my practises after an offer of collaboration, only to see my techniques imitated without acknowledgment. I should be clear that I don't expect financial remuneration.
On one hand I know that in the arts if you give two people the same tools you often end up with very different results, but on the other, I know how little trouble it is to recognise when someone has provided inspiration. Which is why I continue to thank people like Alan Lamb and Scott Baker a decade after being introduced to 'the wires', even though the lessons I learned are now being deployed in contexts far removed from a large-scale aeolian harp.
Artists might think it best never to acknowledge the source of ideas as a way to elevate their standing but in doing this I think they miss the opportunity to allow an audience to understand their work or, even better, find their own inspiration. Or even just share the love a little -- it doesn't cost anything.
This issue of appropriation has been on my mind since 2008 but in the last year Brian Eno has given me a healthier perspective on it, which was good as I was getting bitter. His concept of 'scenius' gave me a perspective on my role connecting ideas and artists.
And Eno's description of the differences between artists and musicians, while interviewing Grayson Perry last year, has made me realise I'm much happier working with musicians because collaboration and listening are key to their practises:
Yohng W1 Limiter
George Yohng has provided an immense service in the form of a free alternative to the Waves L1 limiter. It's great for smoothing transients. For a long time I put this on every track and sometimes even the master too. Luxonix LFX-1310 You know that tinny radio sound that sounds great on vocals or the master bus just before a big dynamic stab or for a build-up? This does that and a heap more.
Audio Damage Rough Rider Great on drums, vocals, leads and for taming freak-out moments. Lots of character but it flattens higher frequencies, so not so great on the master. Ohmforce Frohmage This filter is fierce and displays a lot of the Ohmforce flavour that makes their VST effects so distinctive and desirable.
This video shows me tapping harmonics on the slide at Ramponi Park, the site of my next remix. I thought it was a good demonstration of what I wrote about earlier on the variety of sounds produced by a structure.
You can also see I've been trying a new variety of cheap piezo pick-up. It didn't sound too bad but seemed to be broken after visiting the park. Should've guessed it would be crap because it has the word 'professional' in the title on the packet.
Here's a short overview of how to make your own contact microphone using piezo crystals.
This technique was taught to me by Alan Lamb when we worked together as part of the 2006 Unsound Festival. He'd developed this approach for recording 'the wires,' a large-scale aeolian harp modeled on telegraph poles he recorded in Western Australia.
I'm using a couple of piezo sensors (RS part number 285-784), an RCA lead, a soldering iron, scissors or wire strippers, some tape and half a dozen cable ties.
Start by cutting the RCA lead in half and stripping the wires.
Then get ready to solder the two connections on either side of the piezo onto the wires of one of the RCA leads.
The tricky part is soldering and it's worth double-checking you've got the connection firmly soldered before proceeding.
Once the piezo are attached, you need to insulate the wires again.
I use electrical tape and carefully wrap it around one wire and then around both.
Once insulated, I attach the wires and piezos to matchsticks with cable ties.
You can use glue for this but I couldn't find anything suitable today. Alan used a sealant to weather-proof the piezo after gluing them to 'the wires' and this can extend their life considerably.
These piezo contact microphones are great for a wide variety of applications.
Today I tried using them to record a biscuit tin being used as a hand drum. I've used blu-tack to apply them but you can also sticky tape them onto a surface for temporary application, or longer depending on the tape used.
One common problem is a humming sound, which can be eased or removed by earthing the object being recorded. The biscuit tin was earthed when I held it but the Zoom H4 recorder also needed earthing by sitting it on my lap.
You can hear a short demonstration of the biscuit tin hand drum recorded in stereo with two piezo contact microphones below.
While working with Alan Lamb in 2006 as part of the Unsound Festival, I mentioned that I'd been thinking about recording the water distribution tank that shared the hilltop with 'the wires' he and Scott Baker had built outside Wagga Wagga in 2004.
Alan encouraged me to put a bead on the end of a wooden skewer to tap around the structure and locate harmonics. It was the first time I'd considered that physical objects other than guitar strings and 'the wires' had harmonics.
This thought returned to me while recording Wandoo Playground and I've been spending more time finding the harmonic sweet spots to place the piezo pick-ups and to tap for creating sounds.
These harmonics form and integral part of creating tracks from the playground equipment and contribute to the melody and chordal progression.
Delays are used to create a lot of different effects aside from the obvious one. This table from an old Ibanez unit gives an overview of how the delay works to create various modulations.
The author of this Audio Technology column, Michael Stavrou, recommends putting a limiter ahead of a compressor in the signal path on those occasions when you're worried about clipping the signal.
I thought the diagram showed the benefit as clearly as the article but I should add that Stav's writing is always excellent. If he keeps writing columns like this, he'll have a follow-up for the book Mixing With Your Mind out soon. Top book.
