/ˈæmbiənt / [am-bee-uhnt] /
WE LIKE THE WAY THIS SOUNDS AND WE PLAY IT A LOT,
IT SUITES OUR MOOD...
when the others have left... equipment still buzzing recalls the day’s work in infinite and distant spiral waves, the last sounds being sucked from the room off to an eternal resting place just the other side of reality...
MURDER, MURDER GOTH
MURDER GOTH KIDS
(repeat to fade)
... she was on my shoulder most evenings, in the room continuously, taking control occasionally, winding it down, turning it low, staring slow. Gentle touch, gossamer. Finger prints on surface instructions, suggestions to stop, just stop, not even to listen, stop and be still.
released December 12, 2012
SAMPLER TAPE SYNTH GIZMOS 'N CONFIGURATIONS BY ALL THE GIRLS AND THEIR FRIENDS...
...the vacuum that seeks out and sucks in the last sounds, retains it along with all the other last sounds. All gathered together in a swirling mass of nothingness, calm, still deafeningly quiet. All the last sounds, every single one, from the last shrill you made as a baby, to your first orgasmic belch, to the last record at the slow set on the first nights teenage disco party, the tyres on the road just before the crash, the birds in the morning, specifically the one with the geese not too long ago. Every sound fades out of ear shot and continues on its journey, off to the void, the vacuum of sound just the other side of reality filled with aural moments and memories. Bursting. This room in the evening. This room through the night. Similar perhaps, reminisce of bygone noise.
Extract from CIRCADIAN RHYTHM MUSIC -
A Concord of Sound by Brian Christopher
all rights reserved