Tracks posted at freemusicarchive.org.

The Soundcloud.com platform has many strengths. Key among them is how the fluid nature of postings on the service leads to a specific situation that few if any other music-hosting services have approached. It’s one in which a truly fluid sensibility is easily associated with the postings. In other words: a musical sketch — a rough draft or a work-in-progress — makes sense on Soundcloud in a way it does less so, say, on cdbaby.com or in iTunes. Those latter two systems emulate the tradition of the recording as document, as self-enclosed entity. Soundcloud allows for such a thing, with its “sets” feature, but the default mode on Soundcloud is a reverse chronological list. It’s just a thread of whatever the musician uploaded most recently (the majority of Soundcloud accounts appear to be associated with individuals, though bands and organizations house there efforts there, too). Which is why it makes all the more sense that Dustmotes, the ace turntable-textured beatmaker, has launched a new podcast series hosted on Soundcloud. The six-minute inaugural entry is a suite, a medley, of found and homemade bits, filtered through Dustmotes’ trademark old-school-yet-of-the-moment, veering-toward-ambient approach to what could be broadly described as instrumental hip-hop. Which is to say, it’s downtempo, and it’s promising. Looking forward to the sophomore effort.

Track originally posted at soundcloud.com/dustmotes. More on Dustmotes, aka Paul Croker, at dustmotes.net.

Here’s how it works: on Friday, which is to say yesterday, January 8, I posted an assignment, an “idea” for a piece of music. A deadline was set for this coming Monday, January 9, at midnight, by which time anyone who wanted to participate would post their own original track that acted on the assignment. The first assignment is:

“Please record the sound of an ice cube rattling in a glass, and make something of it.”

It’s only Saturday evening as I type this, and there are already 51 members of the group, and as of three hours ago a total of 18 completed tracks have been posted, many though not all available for free download. I didn’t know if I’d ever write this post, because I didn’t know if anyone would participate. But participating they are — not only responding in sound to the assignment, but listening to and commenting on each other’s tracks. Collectively, the 18 tracks have been listened to almost 600 times in barely 24 hours, and there are over 70 comments, most from one contributing musician to another. Here’s a stark contrast: the recent Disquiet.com music project Instagr/am/bient has been listened to almost 17,000 times since its launch a week and a half ago, and there have been a total of 31 comments.

The variety of responses to “Disquiet Junto 0001″ is just as thrilling as the number of responses is. The idea of making music from the sound of ice in a glass has yielded a very short story from Mark Rushton, some detailed phonography from Mike Bullock, a lovely mix of buggy whirring and gentle melodic phases from My Fun, and subdued funk from Open Heart Sound, just to point out a few.

I have many ideas for things to do as part of Disquiet Junto, and will roll them out in coming weeks. I also have much more to say about where the project comes from, culturally and sonically and socially, but for the moment, let’s let the assembled musicians’ excellent contributions speak for themselves.

Check out the Disquiet Junto page at soundcloud.com.

PS: The word “junto” comes from the name of a society that Benjamin Franklin formed in Philadelphia during the early 1700s as “a structured forum of mutual improvement.” I learned of it while reading, recently, the Franklin biography by Walter Isaacson, who penned the recent Steve Jobs bio. I highly recommend the Franklin book, and Isaacson’s book on Albert Einstein. I have not yet read the Jobs one.

Update: With a little under 40 hours to go before deadline, there were already 24 entries by as many musicians.

The polar extremes of the holiday season are remarkable for their seeming incongruity, perhaps most notably in terms of psychic ambience: on the one hand, a manic consumerism; on the other, a sense of reflection and hushed anticipation. Guy Birkin ponders the latter by taking existing seasonal recordings, a pair of them, and forming from them something new, something singular.

Both of his chosen source documents are explicitly seasonal. There’s a church choir and there’s a brass band. The congregation sings “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” and the band plays “Once in Royal David’s City.” The choir is accompanied by a pipe organ. The brass band, on the other hand, is accompanied by various externalities: that recording was made from a distance and is infused with everyday noise. The resulting work, which Birkin titled “Christmas Ambience,” is very much an extended take on the latter approach to sound, in which context seems to submerge text, yet where the result is an aura with more meaning, more feeling, than the text might have ever had on its lonesome. It’s a slow, solemn piece, yet it seems to glisten in its seeming stasis:

Bikrin also provided some explanation for how he accomplished his piece:

The recordings were pitch-shifted and stretched with FFT, then layered together and the process repeated. The original version of this track was over 18 minutes long, but the most interesting section was its beginning in which the choral and brass sounds are barely audible above the background noise. It took quite a lot of work to simplify the track and concentrate only on the most ambiguous sounds.

Track originally posted for free streaming and download at soundcloud.com/notl. More on Birkin at twitter.com/guybirkin and aestheticcomplexity.wordpress.com.

Start Up/Shut Down is a set of short iterations, remixes, and refinements of Window and Macintosh operating system event sounds. This project features remixed material sourced from Microsoft Windows (3.1, 4.0, NT, 95, 98, Me, XP, Vista, 7, 8) and Macintosh OS (10.0 Cheetah, 10.1 Puma, 10.2 Jaguar, 10.3 Panther) operating systems.

He has plumbed the less than recent history of the major two major operating systems for his noises. The result is an abstract play on sounds at once familiar and remote. It’s a bracing listen, and leaves one eagerly awaiting the Linux B-side.

Kolar is one of the people behind the grew Radius podcast and pirate broadcast, a frequent subject of this site’s Downstream department. He corresponded with Disquiet earlier this year about another kind of “start up” sound that serves as the opening theme of the Radius broadcast (see “Entering and Exiting the Electromagnetic Spectrum”).

Both of the set’s tracks are available for free download and streaming at soundcloud.com/jeffkolar and at the netlabel notype.com. More on Kolar at jeffkolar.us.

Ambienteer, aka James Fahy, sums up what he’s up to as well as anyone might aspire to: “Another experiment scanning the shortwave bands,” he writes of a recent track (MP3). He continues: “Seeking out some odd melodic interlude and once captured, adding reverb and a few other effects and tricks to transform it into a sleepy, filtered soundscape.” He’s describing “A Song From 7.30 MHz.” The song is a brief escape into ethereal nostalgia that he recently posted on his website, ambienteer.com.

His description doesn’t end there. The soundscape, he explains, is intended to be “reminiscent of the imperfect signal, bandwidth and output of my little 1970′s transistor radio.” In other words, the sounds he was seeking out, as he puts it, were intended to begin with to be tweaked, transformed. So he wasn’t so much seeking out an odd melodic interlude as he was a specific sort of odd melodic interlude that would allow him to contort it into this depiction of his aural past. Which means as he was scanning the airwaves, his imagination was already performing a kind of mental filter on what he was hearing. Having located and captured that sound, he then warped it to his desired end. The result is a refreshing wash of sound, neither maudlin nor treacly.

It’s worth noting that Fahy is also the creator of the excellent website rothkoeverywhere.com, where everyday images — of roadsides, threadbare walls, and rust-stained concrete — are shown to resemble the swaths of contrasting colors that comprised the most famous works of painter Mark Rothko. (The one shown up top is titled “French Graffiti II.”) Fahy’s Rothko site is subtitled “The joy of finding his work hidden in the everyday world,” a phrase that could just as well apply to Fahy’s sonic efforts.

Track originally posted for free download and streaming at ambienteer.com. More from Fahy as well at twitter.com/ambienteer.

Each piece is accompanied by an illustration or photograph, itself made available thanks to the Commons (in the case of my article, it is a flickr.com-hosted photo by Ed Yourdon).

I originally published the list-as-essay here, on Disquiet.com, on April 11 of this year. The next month it was translated into Italian, unbeknownst to me, at indieriviera.it. In mid-June it was reprinted at netlabelism.com, as it has been at other sites, including angeldustrecords.com. And earlier this month it was translated into Japanese. And that’s not counting the various discussion sites where it has appeared.

It’s exciting to see it in a new context at Nemeth’s uncertainform.com site. The context is new because it’s a site about “Creative Commons music” that isn’t putting the music front and center (as I tend to here, and as Nemeth does at both actsofsilence.com and theeasypace.com). It is putting the Creative Commons front and center.

The new album turns another Jackson rifflet (a surprisingly prominent shard of “Rock with You”) into an estuary, but that’s just when it’s getting started. The collection is titled Blew Off the Burner Kinda Dusty, and its seven tracks show Kelly to be stronger than ever. Some of his earlier work emphasized ingenuity and off-kilter beats over compositional wholeness, but each of the seven tracks on Blew Off are full songs — not thoroughly conceived backing tracks awaiting a vocalist to complete them, just full songs.

The term “instrumental,” by the way, means a whole other thing in hip-hop, since a solid chunk of Kelly’s sample archive is vocal, if not verbal — vocal in factual terms, but no more or less textural and rhythmic than the rest of his source material. Perhaps the finest moment on Blew Off exemplifies this: “Swth,” which despite its Autechre-like title is a restlessly smooth affair, an endless give and take of hushed moans and rippling beats, bringing to mind some of the more subtle moments off Common’s under appreciated album Be.

The cover shows Kelly apparently blowing dust off his MPC beat machine, but if you ignore the set’s title, it’s also possible to think he’s about to give it a kiss.

Get the full set for free at arckatron.us. And I’m honored that the artist link on the album’s webpage goes directly to this interview I conducted with Kelly back in 2009: “Young Communicator.”

1. 固有のウェブサイトを持つもの
2. soundcloud,bandcampなど既存のウェブサービスを使って運営しているもの
3. すでに運営していたレコードレーベルのサイドプロジェクトとしてのもの　

That text above is the first three rules from my netlabel manifesto, “If You’re Thinking of Starting a Netlabel …,” translated into Japanese. It’s very rewarding to see this sort of thing happen. This is at least the second time the piece has been translated from English into another language, the previous being Italian: “20 modi per distribuire musica in modo creativo.”

Netlabels, for those new to the concept, are online record labels that actively distribute their releases for free, with the willing, and enthusiastic, participation of the musicians who recorded the music. A sizable portion of the music covered in this site’s daily Downstream department originates on netlabels.

The original version of “If You’re Thinking …” was published on April 11 of this year in an attempt not so much to direct the flow of traffic among netlabels or scare away potential free-music moguls, as it was to list some useful, one would hope helpful, correctives. It was fascinating to me at the time, and sadly remains so now, how many netlabels neglect such useful tools as RSS feeds, streaming audio, and song-specific links (as opposed to massive Zip files).

Of course, despite this prevalent neglect, the netlabel community continues to flourish. As C. Reider pointed out in a recent reflection on the state of netlabels and their correlation to earlier networked cultures such as mail art and the cassette underground (“You Are Your Own Archive”), the exhaustive list of active netlabels accumulated by David Nemeth at actsofsilence.com now numbers over 500.

The Japanese edition of my netlabel piece (“ネットレーベルをはじめたいと思っているあなたへ”) was accomplished generously by Yutaka Nakashima, a Japanese native currently living in New York. Nakashima wrote an introduction to his edition of the piece, and added a few rules of his own for emphasis. When he sent me the link today to his post, he included this translation (into English) of his added rules, which are numbered to occur after the 21 on my list:

22. Don’t start yourself. Have some close friends to do it with you.
23. Use archive.org more! archive.org is a huge website and a community.
24. Make a label compilations sometimes. Its very useful for first time visitor of your label to understand.

He asked for my permission to do the translation, which was appreciated, though it certainly wasn’t necessary. My permission is inherent in the Creative Commons license that appears at the bottom of the pages of this website. Though the netlabel concept predates the Creative Commons, as envisioned by Lawrence Lessig and his colleagues, the former is deeply informed by the latter. There’s a sweet irony to the translations that have extended the conversation about my netlabel story. I wrote the piece to help spread the word about netlabels, about the growing cultural practice of actively releasing music for free distribution — but the same structure that allows for that music to flow freely has also allowed my article to.

The Nakashima translation appears on his website, The Polyhedron Formula, where he writes about various free-music releases posted not just on netlabels but via such services as Bandcamp.com.

Tomorrow, Wednesday, November 16, is American Censorship Day. For that day — well, starting the evening prior — the logo for this website will be blacked out. The action is part of an effort originating at americancensorship.org to bring attention to the flaws inherent in the Protect IP Act, which is being considered in the United States Senate, and its sibling legislation in the House of Representatives, where similar regulation is called SOPA.

The act would criminalize such an extensive array of uses of copyrighted material that it’s self-evidently too broad to be upheld in court. But the period of time between the bill’s passage and that potential, though certainly not inevitable, court ruling would be a dark age for the Internet, and for free speech.

From a very specific standpoint, this legislation is egregious to this website, because of the site’s longstanding interest in sampling and in the unintended uses of technology and in the longstanding cultural practices that have come to be termed the Creative Commons. But that is, frankly, just the start of the matter.

Here’s a usefully alarming video that summarizes the issues with the PROTECT IP Act:

Also recommended is the New York Times editorial on the subject (“Internet Piracy and How to Stop It”), which acknowledges the impact of piracy, but also points out examples of the “broadness” of the language in the bill:

In one notorious case, a record label demanded that YouTube take down a home video of a toddler jiggling in the kitchen to a tune by Prince, claiming it violated copyright law. Allowing firms to go after a Web site that “facilitates” intellectual property theft might encourage that kind of overreaching — and allow the government to black out a site.

The date of November 16 was decided because that is when the House of Representatives will hold hearings on SOPA (Stop Online Piracy Act), its version of the PROTECT IP Act. Apparently “PROTECT” is a reduction of “Preventing Real Online Threats to Economic Creativity and Theft of Intellectual Property Act of 2011.” If only the ability to craft a nifty acronym aligned with informed legal vision.

The bill is available at senate.gov as a PDF. Please distribute it freely.