Thumbnails of just a few of the numerous images posted by Nic Collins of the Hardware Hacking Workshops he’s run since 2004:

Image sets at flickr.com/photos/nicollins. Found via twitter.com/lampo.
Thumbnails of just a few of the numerous images posted by Nic Collins of the Hardware Hacking Workshops he’s run since 2004:

Image sets at flickr.com/photos/nicollins. Found via twitter.com/lampo.
From an interview by Andrew Dubber with David Sanjek, “former head of archives at BMI in the US, now a professor at the University of Salford”:
1) A record that is not in circulation but only exists as an archival copy in a vault effectively doesn’t exist;
2) The archival copy in the vault may not exist either.
The interview was part of Dubber’s ongoing research at his website, Deleting Music (deletingmusic.com), which is subtitled: “How the music industry is erasing culture in the digital age.”
Original post at deletingmusic.com. More on Sanjek at salford.ac.uk.
The Suffolk Symphony is an old-school take on locational art — no snazzy geocoded uploads, no virtual-environment overlays. It’s an audio-visual construction based on materials from a specific place, in this case Aldeburgh. The materials — sonic and visual — were collected in a week by noted figures associated with the Touch record label: Philip Jeck, BJNilsen, Jon Wozencroft, Philip Marshall, and Mike Harding. They’ve posted a rehearsal recording of what is to be performed live on August 22. It’s a sprawling piece (MP3), to say the least (the recording is audio-only), with opening timpani and strings making the “symphony” aspect feel real, but with electronic effects, field recordings, and an overall lush minimalism eventually subsuming the more traditional orchestral patterning.
More details, and tons of photos, at thesuffolksymphony.net, and at the website of the originating podcast, touchradio.org.uk.
The true keeper on Morsure Souffle, the new album by d’incise (aka Laurent Peter, is the final track, “plusieurs altitudes” (MP3). It’s a long, rich sound journey, built initially on a torrent of chimes, a whirling, full-bodied flood that sounds like an orchestra of bells. This is slowly subsumed by surface noise, at first sounding like vinyl, but then, in time, exposed to be the effect of wind and motion on a microphone, because out of those endlessly ringing bells come voices, and footsteps, and motion — all manner of natural sound caught up in d’incise’s sampler.
More on the release at monocromatica.com/netlabel.