Author: Marc Weidenbaum

Scratch Pad: Wenders, Frisell, Manhattan

From the past week

/ By Marc Weidenbaum

I do this manually at the end of each week: collating (and sometimes lightly editing) most of the recent little comments I’ve made on social media, which I think of as my public scratch pad. Some end up on Disquiet.com earlier, sometimes in expanded form. These days I mostly hang out on Mastodon (at post.lurk.org/@disquiet), and I’m also trying out a few others. I take weekends and evenings off social media.

▰ The sole downside to opening the living room window is the terrible music that people play in their cars

▰ I saw Brad Mehldau two weeks ago. I’m seeing Bill Frisell and Hank Roberts together in a few days. Both times as part of larger ensembles (quintet and sextet respectively). Life is pretty good.

▰ Are there any recordings of Bill Frisell and Brad Mehldau playing together other than those on the soundtrack to the Wim Wenders film Million Dollar Hotel?

▰ It’s extraordinary that a subset of the consumer electronics manufacturing class happily foresees a future in which everyone openly records every interaction, including face-to-face ones. It’s a glimpse at a potential radical realignment of what it means to speak not only in public but in private.

▰ Amazing how those AI discussion summary bots that join calls can totally diminish the small talk and casual interactions. It’s like someone purposefully set out to make video calls worse.

▰ I just noticed that April 14 isn’t just a favorite holiday of electronic music fans. It also was the first time, back in 2016, that the Disquiet Junto projects began appearing as part of the Lines BBS, after 223 weeks just on SoundCloud, Disquiet.com, and social media.

▰ If keeping a journal is a struggle for you, write a letter. You needn’t even mail it. Think of an ideal audience — friend or family, alive or not — and write to them. Much of my journal is excerpts of stuff I say to people in emails and texts I’d never have written had it not been intended for them.

▰ Honk if an email subject line about “markdown” makes you think file type not cost reduction

▰ Alert: We are now 25 weeks from the 666th consecutive weekly Disquiet Junto project.

▰ There’s a unique memory hole related to software that’s sunsetted before there’s a Wikipedia page to document it having existed in the first place

▰ My hotel room’s one, tiny window did provide a view of the Empire State Building.

▰ The spellcheck in Slack doesn’t recognize “Akihabara.” Oh, neither does this one. Must be system-wide.

▰ After seeing that new Taylor Swift album art, I kinda expected a Joy Division cover or two

▰ I saw a lot of mysterious doorways in Manhattan. This one was a definite favorite:

▰ When you get home from a vacation and start receiving the inevitable email offers from restaurants, bookstores, and other places you visited and are now 3,000 miles away from

▰ End of day:

Vinyl Surfacing of Siren Recording

A decade on

/ By Marc Weidenbaum

Way back in March 2013, I recorded the Tuesday noon siren that used to resound throughout San Francisco. The siren has since been silenced for municipal budgetary reasons, but the recording lives on. It is one my most listened-to tracks on SoundCloud, and it’s been sampled by various musicians over time — as have other recordings of the siren that circulate on the internet.

And now, for the first time, my recording has appeared on a vinyl record album. Neil Stringfellow, who records as Audio Obscura, opens his new full-length album, Acid Field Recordings in Dub, with a track titled “Through Nuclear Skies,” which begins with my siren recording, before deep dubby sounds take over.

Embedding hasn’t been working for me lately, so head to audioobscura.bandcamp.com to listen. And here’s the original audio:

Disquiet Junto Project 0642: Kick from Champagne

The Assignment: Use carbonation to make a beat.

/ By Marc Weidenbaum

Each Thursday in the Disquiet Junto music community, a new compositional challenge is set before the group’s members, who then have five days to record and upload a track in response to the project instructions.

Membership in the Junto is open: just join and participate. (A SoundCloud account is helpful but not required.) There’s no pressure to do every project. The Junto is weekly so that you know it’s there, every Thursday through Monday, when your time and interest align.

Tracks are added to the SoundCloud playlist for the duration of the project. Additional (non-SoundCloud) tracks appear in the lllllll.co discussion thread.

These following instructions went to the group email list (via juntoletter.disquiet.com). 

Disquiet Junto Project 0642: Kick from Champagne 
The Assignment: Use carbonation to make a beat.

Step 1: Make kick drums from the sound of something carbonated.

Step 2: Make a rhythmic track (think techno, but certainly follow your own muse) using the result of Step 1.

Thanks to the folks in the Echo Chamber Slack whose discussion about techno and kicks informed this week’s project.

Tasks Upon Completion:

Label: Include “disquiet0642” (no spaces/quotes) in the name of your track.

Upload: Post your track to a public account (SoundCloud preferred but by no means required). It’s best to focus on one track, but if you post more than one, clarify which is the “main” rendition.

Share: Post your track and a description/explanation at https://llllllll.co/t/disquiet-junto-project-0642-kick-from-champagne/

Discuss: Listen to and comment on the other tracks.

Additional Details:

Length: The length is up to you.

Deadline: Monday, April 22, 2024, 11:59pm (that is: just before midnight) wherever you are.

About: https://disquiet.com/junto/

Newsletter: https://juntoletter.disquiet.com/

License: It’s preferred (but not required) to set your track as downloadable and allowing for attributed remixing (i.e., an attribution Creative Commons license).

Please Include When Posting Your Track:

More on the 642nd weekly Disquiet Junto project, Kick from Champagne — The Assignment: Use carbonation to make a beat — at https://disquiet.com/0642/

More Memory Module Music

A virtual synthesizer in progress

/ By Marc Weidenbaum

Two days ago I posted a preview video I recorded of some virtual synthesizer modules being developed by my friend Mahlen Morris, who does so under the name Stochastic Telegraph. What appears here is a video that Mahlen himself recorded, earlier in the development process, when some of the modules had different names, and at least one of them had fewer features. You can read along in the video as he describes, by typing, what it is that he’s up to in real time. The source audio that he’s working with here is a guitar part that I recorded for him with this delay/buffer approach in mind.

… Day … Groundhog Day … Groundhog …

A return visit to the Gobbler's Knob of the mind

/ By Marc Weidenbaum

I wrote about one of my favorite movies of all time for hilobrow.com, as part of a series of 25 pieces on “the topic of ‘offbeat’ movies from the Eighties” (the decade loosely defined). Here’s how it opens:

In 1993, the year Groundhog Day hit theaters, that furry near-term Nostradamus named Punxsutawney Phil gazed into the meteorological future and saw his shadow.

Historical records of this Americana hokum date back to the late 1800s, when Groundhog Day first became an annual ritual at Gobbler’s Knob, an inland Pennsylvania town with the sort of Capraesque name that lends itself to fables mixing homespun moralizing, commercial appeal, and a smidgen of self-awareness.

Groundhog Day legend has it that if Phil sees his shadow, winter will last another six weeks. What Phil — and Phil’s handlers, and the makers of the film Groundhog Day — certainly didn’t see coming was that 1993’s elongated winter wouldn’t hold a candle to the staying power of the movie itself.

On the one hand, this may seem off-topic for me — it even did to me, for a moment. I thought about adding a tag to Disquiet.com for “off-topic” things that I may post occasionally, but then I realized that part of the crux of my description of the movie is as follows: “It’s It’s a Wonderful Life reworked for memories trained on instant replay.” Which isn’t just on-topic; it connects directly to what I wrote about just yesterday, about music-making tools that let one access the recent past through memory buffers.

Other pieces in the Hilobrow series include Annie Nocenti on After Hours, Erik Davis on Repo Man, Susannah Breslin on Man Bites Dog, Dean Haspiel on Sid and Nancy, and Carlo Rotella on Robocop. Several are already up, and others will appear in the coming weeks.