twitter.com/disquiet: WKRP, Debris, Chernobyl

I do this manually each week, collating the tweets I made at [twitter.com/disquiet](https://twitter.com/disquiet/) (which I think of as my public notebook) that I want to keep track of. For the most part, this means ones I initiated, not ones in which I directly responded to someone. I sometimes tweak them a bit here. Some tweets pop up on Disquiet.com sooner than I get around to collating them, so I leave them out of the weekly round-up. It’s usually personally informative to revisit the previous week of thinking out loud. They’re here pretty much in chronological order. Looking back at the tweets makes the previous week seem both longer and shorter than it was. The cadence is a way to map how time progressed. The subjects are another map of the same territory.

▰ 7:34am sounds: House creaking as it heats; wind outside much like a furnace itself, thought it’s anything but warm; garbage trucks peculiarly muted, dare say respectful. No birdsong, no airplane jet or motor noise. Occasional car engine, rumbling a block or so away.

▰ Small audience for this tweet, but I’d love 2021 to be the year for intriguing 1U modules

▰ YouTube’s grid of recommended videos put Steely Dan’s Walter Becker next to WKRP’s Les Nessman looking like he’s crooning: an algorithmic nightmare of a boomer concert cruise. (I’m Gen X, myself)

Better still is this Richter painting that the Facebook mobile thumbnail reduced it to.

▰ Eating ice cream and watching dan dan noodle recipe videos. G’night!

▰ Three episodes in, *Debris* had its first sonic clue last night, involving a phantom 2D portal (“the square”) in the middle of a field, the most interesting bit being that at first the audio was only caught on recordings, not heard in person.

▰ If you live in San Francisco and miss the Tuesday noon siren, as I do, don’t miss these Dutch air raid sirens, courtesy of Jostijn Ligtvoet:

▰ It’s unfortunate my Bluetooth headphones died barely a month after I got them, though it is reassuring that my [I’m sort of out of negative words] toward Bluetooth remains justified, but in any case the Muzak “We’re in This Love Together” hold music is textbook insult-to-injury.

▰ Can’t remember if I shared this previously, so here’s a shout-out to the excellent virtual synthesizer module developer ([voxglitch](https://library.vcvrack.com/voxglitch/glitchsequencer)) who put a request for assistance into the faceplate of of their modules.

▰ Yeah, I posted about new tracks with beats two days in a row on disquiet.com. What a weird year this is shaping up to be, huh?

▰ Today I became a dog person. (If you haven’t contributed to the [1.4 million views](https://twitter.com/garbagebby/status/1372230706479263744) of this dog singing along with wind chimes, you must join in.)

▰ Very glad *Mayans MC* is back on television, and also somewhat distracted by imagining conversations between Edward James Olmos and Michael Irby in which they discuss their distinguished careers as space admirals.

▰ I listen to the *Chernobyl* score a lot, and every time it gets around to “Vichnaya Pamyat,” I think it’s a track I’d forgotten from Todd Rundgren’s *A Cappella*.

▰ Friends report bot-spam on their friends’ social media accounts

▰ It’s Friday, and the birdsong outside is louder than the Zoom bleed from adjacent rooms in the house, and the cray cray has (relatively) quieted in my social media feed, so I’m gonna take that as a positive sign to, shortly, begin my weekend social media fast. I enjoy yapping with folks intermittently during the day, but there is something at the end of each day, and especially on Friday afternoons when I just shut it all down, that feels quite like a holiday has begun. Especially these days when I’m at home pretty much all the time, shutting off social media feels like coming home, quieting the world, focusing. So, on that note, have a great weekend.

Dobrawa Czocher x Deutsche Grammophon Project XII

The Polish cellist contributes to the monthly series

The Deutsche Grammophon label, its bright yellow logo long associated with the warhorses of the repertoire, has been exercising its experimental impulses in various ways, like the excellent “Recomposed” reworkings of Bach and Vivaldi by, respectively Peter Gregson and Max Richter, and more recently the Project XII series. Project XII introduces a newly commissioned composition each month for the year, and then collects them into an album at year’s end. It’s run twice thus far, in 2019 (which included a piece by Rachel Grimes, a pivotal [early figure](https://disquiet.com/1995/10/01/indie-classical-1995/) in the overlap of indie rock and classical) and 2020 (which included a piece by [Christina Vantzou](https://disquiet.com/2015/11/09/christina-vantzou-bell-jar-no3/)), and we’re now three months into 2021, a highlight of which is “Timelines” by Dobrawa Czocher, the Polish cellist. It’s a gorgeous, sweeping work, slowly flowing layers of cello wafting over each other in a state of classic minimalism repose.

Video originally posted at [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zw8AyyArEEg).

Disquiet Junto Project 0481: Capsule Time

The Assignment: Record a time capsule for yourself in the future.

Each Thursday in the Disquiet Junto group, a new compositional challenge is set before the group’s members, who then have just over four days to upload a track in response to the assignment. 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. It’s weekly so that you know it’s there, every Thursday through Monday, when you have the time.

Deadline: This project’s deadline is the end of the day Monday, March 22, 2021, at 11:59pm (that is, just before midnight) wherever you are. It was posted on Thursday, March 18, 2021.

These are the instructions that went out to the group’s email list (at tinyletter.com/disquiet-junto):

Disquiet Junto Project 0481: Capsule Time

The Assignment: Record a time capsule for yourself in the future.

Step 1: You’re going to record a time capsule, something for yourself to listen to in the future. The default time is five years. You can, however, set the time for however long (or short) you like.

Step 2: Record that track and post it online.

Step 3: Set a calendar entry to remind yourself to listen to it on the appointed date.

Seven More Important Steps When Your Track Is Done:

Step 1: Include “disquiet0481” (no spaces or quotation marks) in the name of your tracks.

Step 2: If your audio-hosting platform allows for tags, be sure to also include the project tag “disquiet0481” (no spaces or quotation marks). If you’re posting on SoundCloud in particular, this is essential to subsequent location of tracks for the creation of a project playlist.

Step 3: Upload your tracks. It is helpful but not essential that you use SoundCloud to host your tracks.

Step 4: Post your tracks in the following discussion thread at llllllll.co:

[https://llllllll.co/t/disquiet-junto-project-0481-capsule-time/](https://llllllll.co/t/disquiet-junto-project-0481-capsule-time/)

Step 5: Annotate your tracks with a brief explanation of your approach and process.

Step 6: If posting on social media, please consider using the hashtag #disquietjunto so fellow participants are more likely to locate your communication.

Step 7: Then listen to and comment on tracks uploaded by your fellow Disquiet Junto participants.

Additional Details:

Deadline: This project’s deadline is the end of the day Monday, March 22, 2021, at 11:59pm (that is, just before midnight) wherever you are. It was posted on Thursday, March 18, 2021.

Length: The length is up to you. The length should be shorter than time between the beginning of the track and when you intend yourself to listen to it in the future, or else you may rupture the very fabric of the universe.

Title/Tag: When posting your tracks, please include “disquiet0481” in the title of the tracks, and where applicable (on SoundCloud, for example) as a tag.

Upload: When participating in this project, be sure to include a description of your process in planning, composing, and recording it. This description is an essential element of the communicative process inherent in the Disquiet Junto. Photos, video, and lists of equipment are always appreciated.

Download: It is always best to set your track as downloadable and allowing for attributed remixing (i.e., a Creative Commons license permitting non-commercial sharing with attribution, allowing for derivatives).

For context, when posting the track online, please be sure to include this following information:

More on this 481st weekly Disquiet Junto project — Capsule Time (The Assignment: Record a time capsule for yourself in the future) — at:

https://disquiet.com/0481/

More on the Disquiet Junto at:

https://disquiet.com/junto/

Subscribe to project announcements here:

https://tinyletter.com/disquiet-junto/

Project discussion takes place on llllllll.co:

[https://llllllll.co/t/disquiet-junto-project-0480-ongsay-aftcray/42680](https://llllllll.co/t/disquiet-junto-project-0480-ongsay-aftcray/42680)

There’s also a Disquiet Junto Slack. Send your email address to [twitter.com/disquiet](https://twitter.com/disquiet) for Slack inclusion.

Image associated with this project is by Christoph Kummer, and used thanks to Flickr and a Creative Commons license allowing editing (cropped with text added) for non-commercial purposes:

[https://flic.kr/p/T4Uvw](https://flic.kr/p/T4Uvw)

[https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/)

Instagram Favorites

A subset of virtual crate digging

Sundays I usually do a roundup of music I’ve been listening to a lot but haven’t gotten around to writing about. It’s often the case that the music I’ve listened to the most ends up not being the subject of my posts here because it becomes so ubiquitous in my life through repetition that it, conversely, becomes invisible. In that spirit, I want today just to link to a few Instagram accounts that regularly appeal. If hanging out on YouTube can have the sense of discovery of crate digging, then the brevity of Instagram videos (all under a minute, unless you click through to Instagram TV, aka IGTV, which I rarely do) is more like flipping through stacks of singles.

Aaron Larget-Caplan ([instagram.com/alcguitar](https://www.instagram.com/alcguitar/)) is a masterful guitarist, responsible for having produced the first official edition of guitar transcriptions of John Cage compositions. He also has, among other things, a focus on lullabies, and he’s commissioned a wide variety of them.

The artist Zimoun ([instagram.com/studiozimoun](https://www.instagram.com/studiozimoun/)) is a spirited, ingenious, crafty producer of kinetic sculptures that generally employ inexpensive materials in sizable amounts to achieve the sort of patterning and complexity generally associated with living things. While sound isn’t always the focus of these works, it is always a component.

Scanner Darkly ([instagram.com/scanner\_darkly\_](https://www.instagram.com/scanner_darkly_/)) writes remarkable code that powers a range of fascinating synthesizer modules, and this account always has tidbits of works in progress.

Ambalek ([instagram.com/_ambalek](https://www.instagram.com/\_ambalek/)) makes beautiful ambient and ambient-leaning music that combines atmospheric impressionism with the refinement of classic minimalism.

The Soul Science ([instagram.com/thesoulscience](https://www.instagram.com/thesoulscience/)), true to the name, brings a soulful spirit to exploratory, often noisy synthesizer work.

Those are just a few. Others I follow are viewable at [instagram.com/dsqt](https://www.instagram.com/dsqt/).

DJ Krush in the Temple by the Foot of the Mountain

An hour-long live set recorded in February

The widespread isolation of pandemic culture provided the natural incubator for DJ Krush to spin echoes of turntablist gestures alone in a Japanese temple as winter turned to spring.

Please trust me that while I’ve only seen Krush live a handful or so of times, I have listened to countless hours of his recorded concert performances, and this is, I believe, one of his finest. Krush originated as a Japanese hip-hop DJ, and from the beginning emphasized abstraction and atmosphere, as well as utilized regional music and sonic culture as source material and inspiration.

This hour-long set was first streamed in late February as part of the MUSO Cultural Festival, broadcast from the temple Daichuji, located in the Japanese city of Numazu, Shizuoka, by the foot of Mount Ashitaka. A brief accompanying statement explains: “Within the temple, a conceptual live performance was filmed as if to experience the essence of Zen through sound.” The festival takes its name from Muso Soseki, who founded Daichuji in 1313.

The show opens with an exceptionally sparse seven minutes of elegant, cautious play, then ratchets up to something closer to the smokey, noir quality of his early work. From there the pace slowly builds, remaining downtempo throughout, but gaining depth: more sounds, more motion, more contrast. Even as the audio accrues, there remains room for the slightest hand gesture to bring a warble to the surface, for his wrists to syncopate martial drums and drop in quick samples. So much gets folded in: dance music, chanting, birdsong, and rapturous percussion stuttered in his mixer.

The show ends as it began, with choice bits of sound, wooden flutes from some of his most famous music, until the beats drop out. From there on, for the last five minutes or so, the work is Krush at his most ghostly, not mournful so much as reflective, peaceful, finally resolving in a climactic drone before dissipating like a candle blown out.

Video originally posted at [YouTube](https://youtu.be/l4vkouAwuec). More on the festival at [muso-festival.com](https://www.muso-festival.com/).