Soundcloud.com as Chance DJ (MP3s)

There’s a reason that a commenter on Marcus Fischer‘s track “110410 (Waiting)” said that it’s “like looking into the sun,” and that reason is a moment. The moment arrives approximately 46 seconds into the piece. There’s a slight lift at that juncture, and for all its simplicity, a mere rising change in notes, it feels like daybreak, like the sun breaking cloud cover, like the great bald head, as William S. Burroughs once called the red-yellow globe, peeping its eyes over the horizon.

By chance, Fischer’s track appeared just before one by Matt Dean in my Soundcloud.com “Dashboard,” the linear jukebox of incoming tracks posted by musicians. Well, technically just after, because the tracks appear in reverse chronological order, with the most recent at the top. Without my realizing that I was no longer listening to Fischer, I heard his dulcet drones give way to slowly building insectoid buzzing, as if the heat of a summer sun had stirred life, when in fact the buzzes are all Dean’s.

The tracks have almost nothing, sonically, in common, and yet they complement each other perfectly. Narrative is an even more powerful force than genre, as any good DJ will tell you.

Fischer track originally posted at soundcloud.com/mapmap. Dean track originally posted at soundcloud.com/sfmattyd. More on Fischer at unrecnow.com, and on Dean at twitter.com/chromasonic.

The Self-Cutting (Up) MP3

“You have this feeling that it’s” — and the voice cuts out. That’s how the track starts. The sudden cut is more of a truncation than a fade. Had it been the latter, we wouldn’t know for sure if the speaker (so to speak), the interlocutor, had stopped mid-track (so to speak), or if this is the result of an edit. But, clearly, it’s an edit. Clearly for several reasons: the way the sound just ends, the opening up of a vacuum-like sonic space. And, of course, the piece’s title, “Chopped Off the Think.” Also, few tracks on Soundcloud.com, where the file is hosted for free download, have waveforms that look like this one’s, with these bits of sound that end in an instant, followed by extended near-silence, marked by thick singular horizontal bars.

The voice returns: “You don’t know what the” — and it’s fairly certain an f-bomb has been avoided thanks to another quick edit. As the track proceeds, it builds momentum, urgency. The voice seems to be narrating its own editing, as it comments on what does and doesn’t work, and how certain integers seem to correlate with a more pleasing effect. It’s like we’re witnessing the edit (which is credited to all n4tural) as it is enacted.

There’s a unique quality to the human voice — not just this voice, but the human voice in general. It’s a quality that often renders all other sound around it to the background. This track wrestles with the voice by curtailing its presence, limiting its power, focusing our ears on its sound by keeping its message tantalizingly just beyond reach.

Track originally posted at soundcloud.com/all-n4tural.

If You’re Thinking of Starting a Netlabel …

If you’re thinking of starting a netlabel, don’t let anyone stop you. The movement — it does feel like we’re far along enough to call netlabels a “movement,” and have been for some time — continues to build. But for all its cultural momentum, perhaps because of that momentum, there’s no clear template for how netlabels function, not beyond the shared idea of delivering freely downloadable music with the permission of the artists involved.

Netlabels function in various ways: as standalone websites, as subdomains of prominent services (.soundcloud.com, .bandcamp.com, .blogspot.com), as side projects of traditional record labels, as thinly disguised podcasts, as fly-by-night operations, as slick enterprises with all the procedural rigor assumed of commercial businesses. The absence of consistency is a good thing, at the heart of the movement’s vibrancy. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t something to learn from all the netlabels that came before yours.

As a longtime listener to and observer of netlabel music, I propose the following to serve as an initial checklist while you get your HTML, CSS, RSS, and release schedule in order. Feel free to question these suggestions, and to add your own, in the comments section below. I’ll update this list accordingly:

• Have a dedicated URL. No hosting service is forever.

• Have an RSS feed. And if you make a conscious decision not to, please explain why. The absence of RSS feeds on numerous netlabels is one of the great mysteries of the field.

• Allow for streaming in addition to downloading of your individual tracks. Don’t assume that just because you’re giving music away that anyone actually wants to possess it. Allow each song to find its own audience, and to bring that audience back to the album.

• Consider making your netlabel singles-only. There aren’t anywhere near as many singles-oriented netlabels as there are album-oriented netlabels. The disparity suggests that album-oriented netlabels are easier to maintain. Challenge yourself and your musicians to whittle their releases down to an individual, singular statement.

• Allow for downloading of the complete album as a set (that is, when you ignore the previous instruction and proceed with an album-centric approach). It’s a hassle to download each track individually.

• Have a “look,” a consistent visual approach, even if what’s consistent is that every release is drastically different than what preceded it.

• Don’t model your releases on traditional record-industry releases. Look to television, movies, animation, comics, newspapers, magazines, radio, and other serial media for models, lessons, inspiration.

• Don’t be afraid to try to charge money. Give the releases away free, certainly, but consider a “pay what you will” interface (in which zero is one option among many), make snazzy limited-edition physical objects, add a donation/tip link.

• Make your site HTML5-friendly. If you don’t know what that last sentence means, there’s a good chance the rapidly expanding cultural consumption taking place on the iPad and iPhone is passing you by.

• Include with each release a brief text document containing key information (personnel, location, date, instrumentation, perhaps even a descriptive statement of intent on the part of the musicians).

• Link from the release’s page to artist information (biography, discography, web presence, etc.).

• Make each release memorable, not just sonically and visually, but how you describe it, how you promote it.

• Consider multiple services for file hosting. When archive.org (or sonicsquirrel.net) goes down, you don’t want your audience to have to make a conscious decision to try to remember to try again later.

• Consider your copyright options. Read up on Creative Commons, and perhaps follow the lead of a netlabel that you admire.

• Don’t put out too much or too little music. Don’t leave your audience wondering if you’ve ceased existing, and don’t overwhelm them.

• Tags, not genres. Repeat: tags, not genres.

• Don’t be louder than your music. You aren’t going to convince anyone to like, let alone listen to, your latest release by over-promising on its transcendent genius. Just be factual, and the audience for those facts will find it.

• Develop a sense of community among your netlabel’s contributing artists. Have them remix each other, and let those remixes lead one artist’s audience to check out another artist’s album. Combine like-minded tracks into themed samplers. Provoke collaborations.

• Don’t be insular: develop a sense of community with other netlabels.

• Consider having a secondary RSS feed to function as a proper podcast, perhaps with the full album or select tracks sewn into a continuous whole, with opening and closing thematic music for consistency, perhaps even little interview segments.

• Surprise people. Break all these suggested rules in creative ways.

Dream Pop That’s More Dreamy Than Poppy (MP3s)

Unlike much supposed and purported dream pop, the songs of Love Cult are truly more ethereal than they are song-like, which is to say: they’re more dreamy than they are poppy. As represented on a three-track set, Live in Saransk, the compositions come across as fragments of memories of songs. Less like sketches of songs to be than memories of songs that were. There’s a bit of a melody, for example, to “Reflection,” a downward-sloping riff that repeats like a half-conscious shard of childhood (MP3), a comparison buttressed by the thick haze through which it is filtered, as well as by the occasional appearance of what sounds like the voices of little kids. It’s a ghost image of a song, flashed on the mind’s retina and lingering seemingly forever. “Fireflower Language” is sodden muffle, and all the more memorable for it, like a chorus played on a damp cassette; stretching on for 15 minutes, it’s a secular mass as envisioned and then neglected by Angelo Badalamenti (MP3). And a collaboration with Bedroom Bear on an untitled ten-minute wash of synthesizer suggests the opening chordal swell of a pop song that never quite arrives (MP3). Given apparent visa issues keeping the Love Cult duo of Ivan Afanasyev and Anya Kuts from performing outside Russia (they hail from the Republic of Karelia), it’s enough to make you set a hopeful Google Alert for reasonably priced airfare to Petrozavodsk.

[audio:http://www.archive.org/download/pf028/pf028-1.mp3|titles=”Reflection”|artists=Love Cult] [audio:http://www.archive.org/download/pf028/pf028-2.mp3|titles=”Fireflower Language”|artists=Love Cult] [audio:http://www.archive.org/download/pf028/pf028-3.mp3|titles=”Untitled”|artists=Love Cult & Bedroom Bear]

More information on the release at pandafuzz.com, and on the Love Cult duo at lovecult.tihiiomut.ru. Bedroom Bear, also based in Karelia, at bedroombear.tumblr.com.

The Church as Commissioned, Rather Than Commissioner (MP3)

The church has long since ceded its role as the major commissioner of music. Music that explores the church as physical structure or cultural apparatus, whether consciously or not on the part of the musicians involved, inherently concerns itself with the means by which the institution shaped sound. In the work of Luis Marte, that shaping is enacted literally and metaphorically. While the details are uncertain, Marte’s “Templos” appears to take the space and ritual of an Argentinean church as its setting and subject. In a brief liner note at the estimable cronicaelectronica.org website, whose Crónicaster podcast distributed the “Templos” audio, Marte mixed video art, vocals, and electronically mediated sound in the work (MP3).

[audio:http://download.cronicaelectronica.org/cronicast075.mp3|titles=”Templos”|artists=Luis Marte]

The place where this all occurred is a church in San José de Flores (pictured here), and the piece, opening with distant footsteps muffled by harsh if quiet noise, suggests a haunted environment. Out of this noise comes two rich female voices, belonging to Ana Larrategui and Roberta della Monica, and they are echoed to suggest a larger number of singers, though whether that doubling is the result of Marte’s processing or the church’s echo-enhancing structure is unclear. They appear about halfway through the 14-minute piece, set against a suddenly diminished background track, the haunting audio reduced to a sound bed.

The work also included a video component, by Gabriel Cicuttin. Track originally posted at cronicaelectronica.org.

(Photo of the Basilica of San José de Flores courtesy of wikipedia.org.)