For the Naviar haiku this week I recorded some chords that I've been playing for the last fortnight or so.
I'd been experimenting with different ideas but the haiku's image of flying upwards gave shape to the tempo change. I tried to convey that feeling when a plane is speeding down the runway, readying for lift-off.
There were some words that came to mind too but I decided not to explore lyrics this week. I was going to record it on an acoustic guitar but there's been too much noise.
The idea of looking beyond national identities speaks to me for many reasons. I also was prompted to think about it when a friend mentioned on Facebook that when he gets asked where he's from, he's started looking blank and answering "Earth".
When I started thinking about manipulating breath recordings, I wanted something that would be more interesting than heavy breathing close to a microphone. Then I remembered the recording made while having sex earlier this year.
That piece came about because I'd found a spank I'd uploaded to Youtube had become my most popular video. I'd shared that as it had been remixed into an acid sorta tune for a Junto. I'd also been reading how William S. Burroughs used audio to create spells and I was keen to get the result to sound like I was with two women.
So I went through the recording and selected snippets that featured breathing. In the process I got a few moans and groans, as well as a low sound that might've been a passing car. I made loops of these, then pitched the passing car into a couple of harmonic progressions. It was C, so I made it go C-E-A-G and also A-G. I changed the pitch of a couple of the other loops but didn't push them very far either.
Some loops were gated and one had Live's Beatrepeat effect added. Then it was a matter of triggering the loops to get a rough shape and editing them to get something that flowed.
The positive response to a previous field recording, led me back outside with a microphone. My partner is away with our car, so I didn't get to visit an actual forest. Instead I decided that, if urban jungles are a thing, then I'd capture a suburban forest.
Then I remembered a homebrew software I'd looked at years ago called sniff_jazzbox. Back then there was only one wireless network on the property where I lived and it was running a dial-up internet connection, so it was quite underwhelming. It would chime a piano note every few seconds but I always meant to try it in a city.
I played around with a recording of the software 'sniffing' my wi-fi yesterday. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense for this project -- especially when I considered this sarcastic meme I'd seen on Facebook.
These days even my small suburb has oodles of wi-fi networks. I took a ride on my pushbike yesterday and listened to nearly two dozen just going around the block. There was one section in particular that sounded nice, so I returned there early this morning.
Before the sun rose I also recorded crickets in my backyard, as well as some video of the tree-lined streets under the crescent moon.
This afternoon I've used Ableton Live to convert the 'sniffed' wi-fi into MIDI, which I've then used to trigger Ableton's orchestral samples. The lead instrument is a cello, which is supported by a viola section and both string and wind sections. These have been exported via UAD's Ocean Way reverb, as well as other lush effects. I added a Novation V-Station bass, as well as the backyard crickets.
My understanding of the assignment was it involved exploring proximity. Specifically how sounds change based on distance, not so much through the proximity effect where they're exaggerated by types of microphones, rather, how they change through the landscape.
One of the distinct sounds of Leeton, the town I've been living in since 2009, is the Rice Co-operative facility. It's part of SunRice, the global brand whose headquarters is still based here, as well as being a major employer.
When I first moved here I lived across the carpark from Woolworths and I mistook the hum of the Rice Co-op as originating from their supermarket. About a year later I moved closer to the Co-op and realised the hum originated from the massive facility that runs almost continuously.
I explored proximity by moving away from the Co-op in three recordings, starting at the Railway Avenue end of Brady Way and moving toward the disused train station. Each location contributes about 40 seconds to the final two-minute piece.
When I got to the spot where I wanted to record, there was a diesel train warming up behind me. The intermittent hisses from its engine seemed to respond to those hisses from the Rice Co-op. I considered recording it but decided it would mess with my video, as I could only show one side of their conversation.
The first location is opposite a building that is closed during the day but often open at night. I suspect they close it during the day to hide that it's packed with dog food. You can smell it at times but I often think it's better to smell dog food than to live near somewhere like the Cadbury factory in Birmingham and constantly crave chocolate.
The other week when my air-conditioner broke and the heat made sleeping difficult, my son and I walked past the open door early one morning and he observed that the brand was 'working dog food' or something. He suggested it was for dogs who wore ties and collars, rather than the kelpies and blue heelers used to round up sheep. It's a cute image.
You can hear in my recording that, as I moved between the first and second locations, the hum changes a bit. Then it grows quieter at the third location, and crickets can be heard along with the mosquitoes whose numbers are nearing their apex as the warmer months come to a close.
The audio was recorded with a Rode NT4 and a Zoom H4n, with some finessing using UAD effects. The video recording was made with a Nikon D5100 camera and 50mm lens.
So I've been back to Wagga Wagga again and was tempted to offer a field recording, then decided to use it as atmosphere for the chords I'd been strumming.
My guitar playing isn't very good but I like the way the parts drift, as though it really is a band playing this song. I also like the way it develops from a minor key to a more major one.
For this special occasion, here's a picture of an orb weaver that was in my garden last week.
Arachnids have been a kind of totem for Bassling, appearing on the cover of my first album SHAKES but less often since. The reason for their disappearance is that I learned how divisive they are, with a significant part of my audience reluctant to pick up a CD with hairy eight-legged artwork!
I think he's giving me a stir about Burning Seed, which I've been going to outside Matong for the last four years, as it's based in a large paddock and people bring their own music and other entertainment.
Anyway, I started riffing on the title of the article, first 'New Drug Festival Just Large Empty Field To Do Music In' and then 'New Field Festival Just Large Empty Drug To Do Music In' and it seemed like a good title for a remix of the field recording I posted on Friday for the Naviar Haiku project this week.
The haiku shared for the Naviar project this week immediately made me think of the recordings I'd made last weekend. It was early Saturday morning and I'd set my camera up on the water trough at a property outside Wagga Wagga, knowing that the local birds, bees and wasps would be visiting for a drink as it was reasonably hot.
This is the same set-up that recorded the part used for the Junto this week but a different recording. I regret not using my Zoom H4 with the Rode stereo mic but the VideoMic doesn't sound too bad now I've reduced the hiss.
The haiku reminded me of those mornings when I haven't slept and it feels a bit dreamy seeing a new day start after a night listening to the doof of dance music. Y'know the ones where you still hear the beat long after you've left the party? I considered remixing the recording into a dance track but decided that it was a pleasant immersive experience as it is. I might remix it yet though.
In the video you can see a Willy Wagtail scaring away other birds. He's the black bird seen at the beginning. There are also a bunch of Sparrows and a brief appearance by a Honeyeater, I think. There's a really big wasp that was hanging around, as well as a lot of bees.
As I was watching from afar I could see a Crested Pigeon that was wary of the camera, and you can hear the morning calls of Magpies in the background along with the hum of traffic. The day earlier I'd seen a Double-Barred Finch for the first time and was surprised how tame it seemed, sitting less than a metre away from me.
I've taken the instruction literally and added a recording of the ambiance from where I was staying last weekend. It was early morning when I set my camera recording at a water trough on a hot day, knowing that a variety of birds and bugs would be visiting for a drink.
The idea of using magpies seemed appropriate too, as they're known for mimicking the calls of other birds. I think I've read that they sing back the songs of other birds at the end of the day, although I'm yet to recognise this in their singing. They're also known for attacking people during spring, which led to this entertaining video I made with my son Oscar.
We're surrounded by electromagnetic fields yet are rarely made aware of their existence.
The sound of lightsabers in the Star Wars movies famously used a cathode ray television hum, which sounds a bit like EMF recordings of fluorescent lights. I was reminded of this recently when I met an artist named Corrie who was inspired by these lights.
It reminded me that I'd read it's very simple to create a kind of microphone for recording EMFs by using a magnetic coil like the sort found in motors. It also reminded me that I'd saved a couple of these coils for this purpose and it was as easy as soldering a jack onto the red and black wires, leaving the white one that was for earthing.
The video above uses no processing other than adding the EMF recording to the left channel and leaving the right channel with the recording from the camera's mic.
Since making this recording earlier this week I've incorporated it into my Junto and Naviar projects. I'm looking forward to taking it for a walk down the main street of town and hearing how the EMFs sound, which is an idea promoted by Christina Kubisch.
Then I mentioned it to my partner and she observed the word iris also refers to part of the eye, so then I had another idea.
It got me thinking about those dreams when you're not sure whether you're awake or not and the sense of paranoia that can kick in. The idea of using artificial light made sense and I really wanted to add the EMF recording I'd made to the drums I'd recorded last month, so it came together quickly.
I experimented with a couple of basslines but ended up using a more rock sounding driving rhythm, although I had to clear some space among the lower frequencies. I also gated the EMF hum to pulse with the drums in places for a more 303-sorta sound and added distortion.
Foremost was an idea to finally get around to playing with EMF. I'd read how to use an old motor coil as a microphone for electromagnetic fields a while ago and, when Corrie had talked on her enthusiasm for fluorescent lights, I'd shared the idea. Last year I'd seen a commercial version but it's very easy to find an old motor and add a jack.
The other idea was to use my contact microphone with containers to add more resonance. One was a wooden box that came with an upmarket brie, the other a reusable coffee cup that had a nice deep kick sorta thump. Onto these I dropped a needle, rice grains, a button and a sunflower seed.
Luckily I'm fighting a mild viral infection and took the day off work, as it meant I could solder a jack onto the blender motor I'd been saving and then record and arrange the parts for this Junto.
The instruction to not change the sounds meant I didn't spend too much time on it but I've got a great collection of samples to work into something else now. Couldn't help but use gates, EQ and compression though, which may have been cheating but I did resist re-pitchng and delay.
Before I get defensive, let me say that I'm a fan of Chris Randall's writing on his blog and am disappointed that he doesn't share as much of his opinions in recent months. I also use Audio Damage VSTs a lot and there are many unique sounds to be found within them.
Now for the defensive bit. A while back I was introduced to the term 'youtard' while reading his blog and immediately felt self-conscious. To be fair, he does use the term to refer to both Youtube as well as some of the amateur content on there. It is both the medium and the media.
The term felt like a personal slight and that's probably why I still think about it. I've uploaded countless videos of piddling quality. An early outtake from a recording gathered so many criticisms that I hid it for a while and ended up deleting the comments. In hindsight it was quite funny to see a drummer suggesting I was miming along to a drum machine but at the time it grated.
Anyway, I've come to realise that 'youtard' may actually be a fair description. While the noun 'retard' is usually used as an insult these days, the notion of something being 'retarded' as lacking development does still have a certain clinical ring to it. And 'retard' was a perfectly acceptable term in the past to describe various conditions that hinder an individual from reaching their potential.
In this way I feel that I am a 'youtard' as I generally use video as a way of demonstrating and, in doing so, am hindered by being both in front of the camera and behind it. When I studied television production we were encouraged to work in teams and it is often the result that the sum of a group effort exceeds individual contributions.
So I've come to realise that my work is always going to be retarded in a sense but I won't pretend that my music videos are attempting to compete with commercial content. They are, however, an opportunity for me to learn and improve and enjoy seeing a sense of development.
My track draws on my haiku but the theme is about pantheism and communing with nature. I quite like the line about growing lighter in the shade of a tree.
Inspiration for the song comes from Max Martin and Dr Luke, who have been responsible for a number of the biggest hits in pop music over the last decade. I read a beaut piece at Popbitch about their approach and took a few lessons from it, particularly the opening guitar riff.
The lyrics were written and recorded quickly. I don't consider myself a singer, so they're very much a 'trace' of an idea (to use the term from John Seabrook's book The Song Machine). I don't really consider myself a guitar player either but, anyway, it's a sketchy sketch too.
This track also uses the 3/4 bassline idea that I've been incorporating into various tracks for the last six months or so. And I had the idea that I should also include woodwind instruments, so I added a couple of MIDI clarinets from Ableton Live's sampled instruments.
Cypress pine move with the wind create a calm deep within
In the quiet empty space a resonance fills this place
From the branch high in the tree a sound like old tape is calling me
In the cool shade I close my eyes feel a spirit stir inside
And
Fall away fall away all my trouble and some pain
Fall away fall away become distant and I feel a change
I grow lighter in the shade of the tree where I pray
Here I know the divine here I know peace of mind
It’s my nature in this space far away from the human race
In some ways it's not surprising that I've taken the tracks and remixed them into a dubby feel. It's an approach I've taken with many other samples but here it also reflects the rhythms that the three audio recordings had in common.
The request to explore "notions of perceived techno-organic intelligence" lent itself to an IDM remix and then I started getting all cosmic thinking about cycles falling in and out of phase, as well as the idea of a pulse or heartbeat that's central to all things.
Yesterday I opened Lindsay's recordings in Ableton Live, applied gates to help identify useful transients and then made loops to create rhythms. The percussion mostly came from the hydrophone recordings, then the computer whir was used to create a bassline by pitching it down.
I got a nice dub-sorta track going at 120 BPM and then sped it up to 126 because it swung better there. Before long I was jamming along on my bass guitar and I recorded a part but found it seemed to define the track too much, so I took it out again.
This morning I listened back and thought it was done, then started uploading. Then I listened again and decided to cancel the upload, as I'd had an idea to make the rhythm more complex.
Opening Live again, I exported the track at 94.5 and 189 BPM before editing these with the version at 126. I like the result, especially the way the track seems to slow down then speed up as the kick parts fade in during the last third.
I called the track 'Signature' because, as mentioned, the remix approach is a bit of a stock response from me. Another signature is my use of a three-quarter-length rhythm, like the 3/4 alongside the 4/4. This was why I used tempos at 94.5 and 189 against the main one at 126 BPM.
Then at the end I reversed the opening so it can pull up to where it started to be looped.
The haiku from Naviar this week is written by Kyle TM, whose name I recognise from Soundcloud. It was surprising to me that it was about the night as it approaches dawn, as I had an early start at work this week and composed a haiku about that time too.
First a confession: My track was started ahead of seeing the haiku. After thinking I needed more drum tracks, I spent last Sunday recording a couple of rhythms. I picked the one I liked better and quickly sketched a couple of chords and a bassline. It's a bit wonky, so I might fine-tune it a bit yet.
For this track I started at 117 BPM, a favourite. 4/4 sounded a bit dull, so I started experimenting with 3/4 but ended up reversing my recent formula. This has a 3/4 percussion track and a 4/4 bassline, I think.
I've just realised that I didn't pay attention to the direction for a brief song. I did consider editing the track down to four minutes and it probably would've been better for it. Anyway, I'm very happy that I've contributed to a Junto topic and this is my 120th project with Disquiet.
To start this Junto I opened an EQ in Live and found 484 Hz by playing the highest A# on my bass and bending it halfway to B. The octave lower seemed to show in the EQ too, but my bass could go no higher so I filtered that out. Then I considered tuning a low B a bit lower, before picking up the fretless bass and improvising with that against that looped swell first heard.
There are a couple of voices in the mix. One isn't legible as it was someone yelling when I recorded the drums last week, so it's been gated. The other was my partner singing the chorus "Play that funky music white boy" which came from a Hot Cherry song that was repurposed by Vanilla Ice. She was singing in the kitchen as I started and was playing the 'Under Pressure' bassline, which led to her being recorded as it was picked up by my camera and then incorporated as I use the video footage in Live.
The drums were recorded last weekend and I had considered a micro-tonal sorta bassline on the fretless to accompany it but I'm not sure I thought much about what micro-tonal might mean other than sliding the notes around a lot. I added a key change too. And lots of Valhalla reverbs.
The title refers to Barmah Forest virus, which is often found in the blood of sentinel chickens during late summer. These birds are monitored by Leeton's council for mosquito-borne illnesses and it's one of a few nasties that are found locally. I've met a few locals who've had extended illness from mosquito bites, so it's a hazard I'm conscious of during the late summer months.
Done this a couple of times now and reckon it's a beaut way to set a deadline. Not sure it suits me this year, as I've got a stack of already recorded material to pull together but maybe I'll just use their deadline to make it happen?
That Naviar haiku track I recorded yesterday is possibly remarkable for the guitar for the wrong reasons but I wanted to record it to hear the 'Nashville' tuning.
If I remember right, it's the use of thinner-gauged strings to transpose the lower three. The EAD moves up an octave to kinda compete with the GBE. Each time you strum through a chord, you something more like a melody than steps up a scale.
It sounds really interesting too. When I play the 'Nashville' tuning I hear a lot of recorded guitar parts from soft rock tunes. I think it is meant to be good for recorded music as it clears lower frequencies without the need for EQ.
Okay, back with an edit to both the blog and the recording.
After listening back I thought the sloppy guitar playing was too crap for the track. So I've tidied it up by making loops and arranging them into a better stucture, as well as treating one guitar part to Valhalla's Shimmer reverb.
My Naviar Records' haiku-inspired recording this week came about because I've been jamming on a broken hand-cranked coffee grinder for weeks and looking for an opportunity to use it.
The poem this week didn't really grab me but the mention of sunlight reminded me how excited I am to get up to a cup of coffee in the morning. Ever since I bought an Aeropress I've been hopelessly addicted to drinking caffeine again after years of avoiding it.
Anyway, to record I jammed along with an old Solid Steel mix. First playing the drums, then the coffeegrinder, then a 'Nashville'-tuned guitar, and then bass. I feel like it needs something else, like running water or the drone of an airconditioner. Couldn't really decide what to add, so I left it awaiting that final element but I've really got to work on my guitar playing.
The haiku shared by Naviar Records describes the moon and the sense of being part of something bigger, like the movements of the solar system. It got me thinking about things that move us, and I'll spare youse a discussion of horoscopes by going to the base, like sex.
Actually, it was thinking about the moon that reminded me of a line I'd improvised while singing on the way to work. So I added a few more words and got this verse:
Moonlight knock on my window and it call me
into the night where the frogs are performing
calling a mate with a song because they're horny
listen and you'll hear them sing until early morning
Baby, baby. Won't you come to me?
In my first year I recorded the ice creaking and cracking and then added a lot of reverb, as well pitching samples to create a sense of harmonic progression. In the second and third years I recorded the ice being agitated within glasses and also ceramic mugs. Here's 2015's result, which is probably still my favourite:
This year I thought I'd let a tap drip onto the ice in the glass. I'd made a few tracks using recordings of my dripping tap last year, however I'd fixed the tap and it didn't drip anymore. So, using the wiper wrapped around the faucet, I got a steady drip and put contact mics on the glass. The results were underwhelming.
Next I found my files from last year and began looping. These sounded more promising and soon I had a rhythm that held my interest. I began jamming along with it on bass, then guitar and eventually the four-string guitar that I've been experimenting with after my recent obsession with Morphine.
The guitar uses an open D tuning, like Sandman's bass, but instead of his two strings I've added two that harmonise. My thinking was that since he uses a slide, an added drone would provide a similar sorta sound. It sounds more like a guitar chord but it's been fun, although I wonder if I haven't built a baritone ukulele. Could a bass mandolin be a bassolin? Basslin?
So, after combining my old ice cube files with the new ones and jamming along in a few keys, I ended up with a few riffs that I edited together in a way that made it surprise myself. I like the way a few different approaches has led to a Frankenstein-sorta result.
While I was reflecting on my recordings from last year, it surprised me again just how popular my sex-based experiments had been. And, because it was the holidays and I was having a lot of sex, I thought I'd record a new piece to share.
The Naviar haiku this week is a ripper. It's a great image and I started to thinking about the warmth of distortion.
I'd been playing with making loops from the Morphine cover I recorded earlier this week. I mean, I call it a cover but I changed the key and played different bass riffs, as well as killing the drums. When I recorded it I entertained the idea of using different lyrics and the line ended up being used in this song.
The lyric also comes from Morphine. Their song 'The Way We Met' has a line about being too far gone to be wrong or right. I meant to record "Gone too far to be wrong to be right" but forgot the line and recorded "Gone too far to be wrong or to be right".
When I remember 1993, I remember great music and this includes Morphine's album Cure For Pain. In fact, looking back there was so much good music that I feel I took it for granted and, in a way, took Morphine for granted. Like, I never bought their music because they were always on the radio. And I never saw them live either.
When I watched The Sopranos on DVD there was a Morphine track that gave me something of a '90s flashback. Then last year I saw the doco on Sandman where Les Claypool sang his praises and began thinking about the economy of the songwriting, as well as the economy of guitar strings.
This week I've been listening to Morphine and feeling restless to make music. It came to a head yesterday with this attempt to cover 'Eleven o'clock' from Morphine's 1997 album Like Swimming. As usual, I've spent more time editing video than rehearsing, performing or producing the audio. Might remix bits yet.
The video has been edited because the final section fell into disrepair. It was messy. My drumming is clearly challenged by the idea of playing behind the beat. I totally murdered Mark Sandman!
Was at a loss today, so I thought I'd improvise a song. As usual, I ended up spending more time producing it than spent playing or writing it. So it's not that great and seems to need something more, other than smoke.
Here's a selection of material produced during the year. This follows the direction for five seconds from each month used by the Disquiet Junto in previous years, and this year I've made a video too -- which is at the bottom of this post.
The year opens with the Junto directions to "Record the sound of ice in a glass and make something of it." 2015 marked my third attempt at producing this piece and I think it was my best yet, but 2016 isn't too far away now. Some audio of an orgasm I shared in January was one of my most popular tracks on Soundcloud. That Junto based on a recording after midnight was interesting to return to but it also made me think about the documentary nature of sound and the idea that sexuality is an intrinsic part of character. It's self-indulgent but I was wondering why I hadn't encountered more of it and used Juntos to explore the idea a bit.
June saw the completion of a collaboration with my colleague at Western Riverina Arts, poet Derek Motion. This was the result of a project we proposed to Wagga council for projection, which was an interesting exercise since I started with a focus on sound and it wasn't until we asked how they'd like it delivered that we realised there wouldn't be an audible soundtrack at the presentation. It's a shame as the remix of KlanKman's 'Trein' was another highlight -- and one that was overdue after his beaut remixes of my tracks, like this one.
Now it's December and there are hours of music that I've produced in 2015. I thought I'd conclude with this collaboration with my son, Oscar. We made six videos together this year and it was fun to produce someone else's material. The first is best.
There's more I could reflect on in 2015, particularly my professional development, but I think this is enough for now. All the best in the new year!
The Disquiet Junto this week was one of those sets of instructions that didn't quite make sense for me. Dunno, maybe it was the direction to use what was on hand in one step and then to use source recordings.
Anyway, in a way, it doesn't matter. Sometimes those reactions are part of the process and it seems to encourage a degree of disassociation that helps with improvised compositions. Although, one thing I've been thinking, was about an earlier Junto for "sonic tinsel" and I think this is a better result for that characteristic. And earlier this week I was thinking about this recording of that composition.
Anyway, it seemed impossible to get around acknowledging Christmas. Originally I'd planned to record a metal frame but it was raining in Wagga this morning, so I set a new time to compose when I returned to Leeton. The noise at home was more noticeable after being away from the suburb.
My neighbours seemed to be playing backyard cricket and it was getting increasingly rowdy. You can hear a cheer and also the exclamation "That's what I'm talking about!" I'd heard yells throughout the afternoon and wondered how to incorporate them into the Junto.
The Christmas cards were at hand. I've been playing around with juggling their triggers for years but obviously they seemed a good accompaniment to the festive sounds. The birds chirping were also a nice contribution as I'd been listening to birds in Wagga and thinking about them for the Naviar haiku.
Once I'd recorded this take and one other, I spent a little while manipulating the sounds in Ableton Live by adding reverb and delay. It still needed something, so I added a few notes on a VST synth with MIDI.
The Naviar haiku this week was a good one. It brought to mind watching sparrows learning to fly on a windy day. The little birds were blown about like kids playing in waves.
This chord progression was written on bass while I was visiting my 'outlaws' outside Wagga. They live on a hilltop and the second storey of their house looks into the treetops, where the bird community has been breeding in large numbers this year -- as a result of the wet winter.
The haiku proffered by Naviar Records this week brought to mind those times when fatigue must be overcome. Particularly when I've been partying and realise I'm ready for bed but it's still a long way away.
Darkness doesn't draw in as early as I'd like at present. We've had the summer solstice this week and it's been challenging to get my kids into bed before I fall asleep, since they're on holiday but I'm still working. So, yeah, this track didn't get as much attention as it should've.
To start I open Ableton Live and apply a gate to the samples. This lets me identify useful transients, which I like to find first as rhythm is usually my starting point. There were a couple of percussion sounds that stood out, then I added some bass parts as there wasn't a kick sound. The high hat sound comes from a preset in the effect Replicant.
Then I'll experiment with re-pitching short loops and see if I can create a chord change or melody that works over the rhythm. In this case I added reverb to get a more ambient sorta synth pad wash as well. Valhalla Shimmer is great.
At some point I'll record the loops onto the timeline and then automate the volume or effects to organise the sounds into a structure. You can see some shorter loops, which were re-pitched for variation. I also used Live's Utility effect to explore the stereo field of the M3 sample, which was then heavily reverbed.
Finally, I use a couple of bus tracks to compress the rhythm and add reverb. Then I add some more compression on the master and export. The track for this junto was completed in about four hours.
Had another go at making music using a dripping tap, as well as the bassline and drums recorded for a couple of Juntos. Ended up with a bit of a dub sorta sound, thanks to the tape-style delays.
When the Naviar email arrived I thought about recording a clock. On Sunday morning I was keen to record. After spending the night listening to a dripping tap, it didn't seem such a leap to use the percussive drops.
The recordings were mostly made using a Nikon camera with a Rode video mic. These were looped and then re-pitched to create a chord. I also made recordings with a stereo Rode mic and a Zoom recorder, which is also in the mix.
Initially I started with a bass loop and then added drums. Then I deleted the loop and recorded this part. It's an early take. If you listen closely it actually loops near the end but the chord progression starts to loop much earlier. Maybe it needs a breakdown?
As mentioned, I recorded the bass part quickly on the fretless. The video suffers because I didn't shoot the bass. I shouldn't have been so lazy. Next time I'll make an effort but I didn't because it felt like I should put on pants.
The title is about sleeping over at someone's place but also that sense when you hearing a noise in the night and know your sleep is over.
The idea of switching between parts suggested a kind of call and response melody. Or a kind of call and response and response melody in this case.
I settled on the idea of recording a vocal, a bass and percussion, then I went back and re-read the Junto and realised I'd read it wrong. However, this was the idea I ended up recording.
The idea of writing a lyric appealed to me. I've been writing haiku all week. One thing I like about haiku is the 17-syllable limit because it forces me to think how to phrase ideas to fit. It's a fruitful creative constraint for me but, yeah, the idea to use a haiku for the Junto was a bum steer.
I quickly recorded the melody on the bass and asked my partner to sing the lyric and then spent hours wondering how I was going to make it work. In the end I left the track in frustration and went back to one that I'd been putting together earlier on Friday.
The vocal needed to be stretched and re-pitched but it sorta worked as a house remix with the three-quarter bassline I'd written. I love the way the shorter loops on the bass give the track an evolving quality. It's one trick I've used a lot since I heard Dave Graham recommend it.
The result is a song that switches between a heavily effected screen door, voice and bass guitar against a 909 drumbeat and another bassline. I don't think it works but the project led me to produce a remix that I like, and I like it when a Junto inspires new material because it's usually something different.
Here's a quick remix from recent recordings, including the Under Beat and Beat Basis juntos. Not much of a video though, as I only had the footage of the drumming.
The Naviar haiku this week is a milestone in the form of the 100th exercise. The poem itself didn't resonate with me as this month marks the start of summer.
The project was a prompt to develop a track and this one uses a recording of my fireplace from 2013. I had been thinking about remixing a recording of a screen door that was made for my first Naviar haiku project, number 17. Then I found this fireplace recording and thought it was better suited.
The result is a rhythm from the fireplace accompanied by fretless bass. I made the beat first and then experimented with ideas until I settled on these two chord changes. It seems like it still needs something but I'm not sure what yet.
The Disquiet Junto this week was another great opportunity to revisit ideas. The "graphic notation" assignments have often been fun and the picture this week held many possibilities.
My partner observed that the two sets of notes suggested a mash-up. My track interprets them in having two drum parts, but I combined the notes to create the dominant riff.
It's partly in 3/4 time signature with the notes interpreted in the kick drum rhythm, which shows six quarter notes against eight tambourines. This morning I settled on the drum parts and then, after taking my kids to the library, added the synth and bass parts.
I like the contrast between the two time signatures. I've been revisiting old projects recently and this one draws the time signature idea from this Naviar haiku junto.
When I wrote that piece, I recorded the lock on my screen door. That recording is currently on my desktop and I considered it for this piece, but used the recording of the fire starting instead.
That fire was lit in 2013. I'd been looking for an opportunity to use that recording and the Junto this week was it. My levels are a bit low though. Things haven't been the same since I started listening to playback through my PA instead of my monitor speakers, which are usually turned down 10db.
This Musical Spiral reminds me of Oliver Sacks' observation that people with synesthesia rarely agree on the colours they see for specific notes. In a way that comforts me because I've often thought I'd prefer to learn how music makes me feel, and use that to guide the experience I gain in making music, rather than formulas.
