The event xxxxx23 held at Limehouse Town Hall, London, on March 23, 2006, brought together various speakers on esoteric subjects broadly associated with “the rich consequences of expanded software.” Among them was Swedish sound artist Leif Elggren, who opened his 20-minute performance with a simple but strange pronouncement: “This basic sound material was recorded in my biological mother’s uterus,” he says, “with my not yet developed teeth used as a fundamental and simple recording device a few days before my birth. This sound material was kept recorded and hidden until recently inside one of my wisdom teeth, but has now been brought to daylight and exposure. Digitally mastered, reproduced and sent out into the room which we all mutually share and which we usually call reality, the world, sent out with the main purpose to change that room.” He then pursued a voluminous approach to noise that matched the rhetorical structure of his statement, opening with a the sonic equivalent of a simple declaration that accrues noise, or wilful confusion, as it proceeds. A recording of the track was recently included in the Touch record label’s occasional podcast series (MP3, RSS). It’s also available as an OGG file, along with all of the evening’s other presentations, at 1010.co.uk.