“Flesh Noise”

The chatter was like rainfall

I had a few hours to spare so I grabbed a table at a hotel downtown where I passed, far too easily, as a participant of the ongoing professional conference. The wifi required a room number and a corresponding name, but my phone worked fine as a modem. Quite suddenly, an hour and a half into my stint, myriad doors opened and the hallway was packed with actual conference participants, marked by shiny lanyards and purpose-built smiles. The chatter was like rainfall, like a rushing stream, like a flock of chatty birds — dense, rapid, and unintelligible. I recorded 45 seconds. This isn’t white noise (too slow) or brown noise (too shrill). It’s flesh noise.

Humorously, both my laptop and my phone recognized the presence of human speech in the recording, and the Voice Memos app registered this with the little speech bubble icon, which signals that a transcription is available. I wondered what marvel might await, as I went to click on the button. Perhaps the processing power of my five-year-old laptop would be able to discern multiple individual streams of conversation from the tightly packed, overlapping speech. I was disappointed if not surprised. The transcription yielded merely “…..” — an extended ellipsis.

On Repeat: Clarinet, Stasis, Crimson

Home/office playlist

On Sundays I try to at least quickly note some of my favorite listening from the week prior — things I’ll later regret having not written about in more depth, so better to share here briefly than not at all.

▰ Just Duet: The musician Linus Fung, born in Hong Kong, has been doing some fantastic work folding his clarinet playing into a modular synthesizer format, essentially dueting with himself and transforming his melodic approach live. Here he is heard — and seen, bird’s eye view — building on the Canonic Duets of composer Georg Philipp Telemann (1681-1767).

▰ ’Tis the Season: Glacial stasis these days doesn’t necessarily come too easily. I’m not certain I would put it that way. But with so many available tools to achieve it, listeners can benefit from recordings that explore now common granular lushness as an element or a context rather than an end unto itself. Case in point, the way metallic slurry and vibrant shifts in tonality push beyond standard harmonic haze on autumnal_city_01 by autumnal_city.

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▰ Back in Court: Half of the classic early-1980s lineup of King Crimson is currently touring music from that trio of great albums: Discipline, Beat, and Three of a Perfect Pair. I’ve been spending a lot of time tracking fan uploads of video from the various concerts, and a highlight is this rendition of “The Sheltering Sky,” with original guitarist Adrian Belew and bassist (and Chapman Stick player) Tony Levin, plus Steve Vai riffing on Robert Fripp’s work, and Danny Carey (of Tool) playing — literally, I believe — Bill Bruford’s drums. The quartet goes simply by the name Beat.

Scratch Pad: Hyperviolent, MP3s, Morgantown

From the past week

I do this manually at the end of each week: collating most of the recent little comments I’ve made on social media, which I think of as my public scratch pad. I also find knowing I will revisit my posts to be a positive and mellowing influence on my social media activity. I mostly hang out on Mastodon (at post.lurk.org/@disquiet), and I’m also trying out a few others. And I generally take weekends off social media.

▰ The cashier turns up the music at the restaurant and my first thought is: this is usually when a movie’s wordless, hyperviolent scene kicks in

▰ There’s a misleading rhetorical meme that floats around about how you don’t remember your first MP3. Whenever I rip an old CD to my hard drive, I clearly remember the first time I witnessed someone burn a CD (a mixtape they were making for a friend). I remember the first audio file I force-downloaded. I remember the first track I ripped (and then layered on top of itself).

▰ My main experience of that Richard Powers profile in The New Yorker is I want him to publish a vegan cookbook

▰ Me: Yow, it’s getting dark early.

Me a moment later: Oh, the shades are drawn.

▰ Finally made it to the new location of Kayo Books in the Tenderloin today. Fantastic selection, as had been the case at their previous spot. I picked up this 1953 paperback treat.

▰ End of day:

▰ After a spell focused on the Beatles’ “Golden Slumbers,” guitar class has moved on to Joni Mitchell’s “Morning Morgantown.” I’m probably, at best, the second worst guitarist on the full length of my street (not block, street), but I’m having fun and learning a lot. “Buy your dreams, a dollar down.”

A Subsumed Cacophony

Standing on a city corner on a Thursday afternoon

A city is often a cacophonous space. Of course, cacophony comes in many forms. The roar of the ocean can feel cacophonous, as can the intensity of surrounding bug life in the wild. The cacophony of the city is unique from those other forms because the noise comes not from manifest dense uniformity but from myriad distinct, often unidentifiable sources acting as if at once. All this was running through my mind as I stood on a corner in San Francisco listening as hotel workers were engaged in a lively strike halfway down the block. The noise of their activity joined with that of passing foot and automobile traffic to create something that was at once noisier than a normal Thursday afternoon, and yet also that perpetuated the city’s ability to absorb all sounds into one sound. No matter the sounds, it was the sound of the city.

(The image is a reworking of a public domain photo via Wikipedia of a 1956 strike.)

Mess[iae]n

Name fugue

Going to a concert tonight. Imagined this t-shirt. And apologies to Loraine James, who’s done something along these lines for her own name.