This is a new kind of thing for me, a visual and navigable sound space.
Most of my work has been some set of processes around collage, tape, digital, synths, found sound, doesn’t matter too much. As anybody who’s been within 50 feet of me in the last year knows, I’m obsessed with documenting works in progress, exposing process, and investigating my own interaction with a body of work over the past five years which I recorded and never released.
Almost everything that’s up on my Bandcamp right now was assembled in the past year with new sounds from my investigations in synthesis and tape, but mostly with the aim of situating the old ones. Reigniting dead subjectivity as I transition, and seeing all of that work I despised as what it was: a huge library of songs about dysphoria that I wrote to myself.
I felt aversion to those songs, because they still make me cry. I wasn’t ready to cry yet.
With every new multitrack work I make, it’s impossible not to cry when I mix. As I grow into myself, I fear losing that place of ignorance which made this work that moves me so much now. And yet every day I see how blind I was yesterday. The tape I recorded yesterday brought tears for new reasons.
Listening to my own music was dysphoric because I couldn’t hear me even as I now know that was a truer me than I knew. Listening to my new music is euphoric because I can hear it.
This is a way to explore some selections from my personal archive.
Sound Squirreling
(browser only)
In some sense my book is a blueprint for the tryptic of releases I’m preparing to cap my Bandcamp total to 11 for this year. This is a ricorso before the next three works come into place.
I have been experimenting with screen recording walkthroughs of the space. Since it will never be the same for anybody who plays it, the soundtrack of each recording will be unique.
