On Sundays I try to at least quickly note some of my favorite listening from the week prior — things I would later regret having not written about in more depth, so better to share here briefly than not at all.
▰ A video of textural synthesis, as a preview of a forthcoming “Procedural Ecosystem” for algorithmic composition, courtesy of Emiliano Pennisi.
▰ Aphex Twin posted a pair of versions of a new track, “Zahl am1,” to his SoundCloud account. Longtime listeners will appreciate familiar sounds.
▰ An album from Steve Hamman of EMF (electromagnetic field) sonic explorations, We Are Bodies of Light, walks cautiously between the poles of gentle and caustic.
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.
Right now, though, I’m on a more extended social media (and adjacent) break, through the start of January 2026. Which raises the question: when I’m on such a hiatus, what constitutes this site’s Scratch Pad, since it is by definition a collation of stuff I posted to social media throughout the given previous week. Apparently it’s random notes I made to myself that I would have posted online. Just because I’ve stopped posting doesn’t mean my brain has stopped making posts. I’m nearly done with a full week off work, but my time off social media — my time with fewer threads of conversations to track — has a full month to go.
▰ At a concert recently, the music was deep and sinuous, and the interplay of the musicians was exactly what one might hope for. I closed my eyes and I didn’t drift off, not in the slightest; if anything, I was more present. And something occurred to me in my presentness, which was: You know, at some point we all have to go, and there would be worse ways to go. (I mean I hope way down the road, of course.)
▰ I’ve found that the Safari browser and the Zen browser have been working very slowly on my M1 MacBook Pro (I know the M5s are coming out, but I’m trying to hold out until the M6), so I’m testing the Vivaldi browser, which has been working well on my laptop and my iPhone, but when I pull up the settings on my iPad (M5 iPad Pro, running current iPadOS) to sync, I get … a blank screen. There is never a day when nothing doesn’t work.
▰ I’m playing the video game Split Fiction currently (on PS5), and it’s split between fantasy mode and science fiction mode. A pair of characters represent the two storytelling types, and they have to learn to work together (as in It Takes Two — from the same company, Hazelight Studios — which I’ve also played). It’s a lot of fun, and tropes have reinforced for me that I’m very much a science fiction mode person, though I do have plans to try to re-read The Lord of the Rings this coming year.
▰ There is a certain type of movie that brings out people who go to the movies so infrequently that they can’t navigate movie theaters, and I can confirm from recent personal experience that Hamnet is just such a movie. And it differs from the novel on which it is based — and which I did enjoy quite a bit — in various ways, including the absence of the great flea/plague chapter, on screen tidily summarized with shadow puppets. It may fit into the category of films in which “screaming is acting.” There is a powerful depiction of how Hamlet expresses Shakespeare’s grief at the loss of a child, and how by having to be a ghost visiting the still alive Hamlet, Shakespeare-the-actor can address his own personal trauma and make it something that his audience can, in turn, experience — which, to bring things full circle, keeps his son present, if not alive; not a ghost, but a memory. There’s a moment at the end, when the play is staged, that is clearly intended to evoke something that happens early in the movie, and I kept thinking, “Please don’t show us a flashback. We remember. It’s only been two hours.” And I’m relieved to say, there was no flashback to this particular thing. There are other flashbacks, but at least not that one. And Max Richter’s score is quite beautiful, even if they do reuse an old piece of his music.
▰ You can tell it’s a long holiday weekend because there are far fewer than usual software updates.
▰ Perhaps the iPad has been this way for a while, but I noticed that now the up/down volume functions differently in profile and landscape modes. In portfolio mode, the “top” button (aka “left” in landscape) raises the volume, and likewise in landscape mode the “right” button (aka “bottom” in profile) lowers the volume. This is as it should be.
▰ Word I learned from Moby Dick this week: “hist.” And now I’m wondering if the shushers in the final scene in (the film version of) Hamnet are saying “hist.” And whether this bled into the “ssst” that people now say when shushing people.
▰ Finished reading one book this week, Mick Herron’s Clown Town. It’s quite good. Almost done with several others, among them Blood Meridian, Moby Dick, and Laurie Colwin’s excellent Goodbye Without Leaving (which was recommended to me by N+1’s annual bookmatch).
I have a few pieces in the works for the awesome hilobrow.com website. The latest to see publication is for Skank Your Enthusiasm, a collection of 25 people writing about our favorite ska records. Contributors include Lucy Sante, Douglas Wolk, Carl Wilson, Annie Zaleski, Heather Quinlan, and the series’ editor, Josh Glenn — and me. I wrote about “Rudy, a Message to You” originally by Dandy Livingstone (aka Robert Livingstone Thompson). The first section appears below. The full piece is at hilobrow.com.
The Assignment: Make music with a browser-based Omnichord as your sole sound source.
/ 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.
Disquiet Junto Project 0726: Chord of Omnis The Assignment: Make music with a browser-based Omnichord as your sole sound source.
Step 1: In the early 1980s, an instrument called the Omnichord was introduced by Suzuki. There is now a browser-based version at onlineomnichord.com.
Step 2: Make some music using only the online Omnichord as your sound source.
Tasks Upon Completion:
Label: Include “disquiet0726” (no spaces/quotes) in the name of your track.
Upload: A person participating in the Disquiet Junto should post only one track per weekly project (SoundCloud account preferred but not required). If on occasion you feel inspired to post more than one track (whether to a single account or across multiple accounts), you should clarify which is the “main” rendition for consideration by fellow members and (if on SoundCloud) for inclusion in the SoundCloud playlist.
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 726th weekly Disquiet Junto project, Chord of Omnis — The Assignment: Make music with a browser-based Omnichord as your sole sound source — at https://disquiet.com/0726/.
A nice little slice of glitchy atmospheric IDM, all done up in the visual audio programming language Pure Data. Watch (and listen) along as text and graphic elements are navigated in service of this sci-fi–tinged excursion, in which the pace is ever-shifting. The piece is by Artiom Constantinov, who’s based in Italy. More at artiomconstantinov.bandcamp.com and artiomconstantinov.wordpress.com.
