
Whenever I walk by this, one or another Power Station song starts playing in my head.
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Whenever I walk by this, one or another Power Station song starts playing in my head.

This is the 12th comic in the ongoing series I’m doing with Hannes Pasqualini. See a full index of Frame by Frame comics at disquiet.com/fxf. More from Hannes at horizontalpitch.com and papernoise.net. We aim to post a new installment the first and third Monday of each month.

One of my favorite things about Fortuna and the Immortality Garden (Machine), the art exhibit by Kara Walker currently at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, is paying attention to the sound of all the gears of the various moving figures. If the Roberts Family Gallery, on the first floor of the museum, is relatively empty, you can hear them clearly.
At the end of each week, I usually collate a lightly edited collection of recent comments I’ve made on social media, which I think of as my public scratch pad. I find knowing I’ll 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.
▰ Was not expecting someone to walk by outside playing harmonica as I worked, and now I’d like to hire this person to provide this as an occasional service
▰ RIP, legendary composer Sofia Gubaidulina (1931-2025), whose name always got me humming a certain Del the Funky Homosapien song.
▰ Just 11 weeks until the 700th consecutive weekly Disquiet Junto music community project. That’d be Thursday, May 29.
▰ The “horns” emoji is one I use all the time, pretty much daily. I only recently learned there is a distinct “metal” version, with the studded wrist band.

▰ Woke up, had breakfast, looked over yesterday’s notes, found this incomplete bit, a total head-scratcher. Feel free to complete it: “It’s funny, but when I left the note …”
▰ There’s something about ships in the distance on the water (Ocean Beach, San Francisco) that the lenses of my phone don’t quite do justice to, but I do, in the moment, get a serious Ralph McQuarrie vibe from them, like these are spaceships just returned from some other side of the universe, rather than what they are, which is flat large vessels carrying consumer goods from one coast to another.

▰ Latest “voice commands in the car” adventure, which I suppose makes this a “voice-to-text adventure”: The car recites aloud a text message from a friend. In reply, I say, “Rock and roll.” The car proceeds to tell me why it can’t access my music app.
▰ In case you’re wondering how AI tech support is going.

Full disclosure: the problem was eventually solved, but the process sure didn’t get off to a positive start, that’s for sure.
▰ You’re* definitely en route to cyborg if forgetting your** earbuds*** makes you**** feel unprepared, even incomplete.
* that is: I’m
** my
*** AirPods
**** me
▰ My favorite current backing track is that [vibrant clattery typing by countless humans in vast call center] sound on the various “Spam Likely” (for the record, I’ve never received a “Spam Likely” alert that turned out not to be spam) phone calls I get on a regular basis. And no, I never pick up; voicemail is my point of reference for this ongoing research project.
▰ Ton of reading underway, didn’t finish reading anything.

A new issue of This Week in Sound just went out to paid subscribers, with three contemplative (and contemporary) works for organ, featuring recent music from Maria W Horn and Mats Erlandsson (Sweden), Alyssa Aska (Austria), and Sarah Davachi (Canada / US).
These “Listening Post” issues of This Week in Sound are intended as thank yous to paid subscribers — a bonus round, supplementing free issues that feature a broader array of sound studies coverage. Each installment of the Listening Post is a mixtape of recommended ambient and adjacent audio.