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
