When the muted trumpet comes in around 3:40 the song seems to acquire a whole new layer of sadness and sorrow. He also has the most incredible voice.
Author: peter wyeth
He retreats to his shell and listens to bells
Well, there was a lot of effort and excitement that went into the Public Service Broadcasting gigs that went ‘PFFFT’ in a moment after the first show; my ears buggered by the massive volume of a PA trying to make the music heard over 200 odd people chatting to one another.
It hurt. It hurt a lot. I had to pull out of the other shows as I couldn’t go through with it another two nights in a row.
Ironically, I have taken solace in one of the loudest sounds I know. Church bells.
The new bells of Notre Dame courtesy of the wonderful Des Coulam
This week!
Slowly getting closer to something. Maybe in time for the PSB gigs. There are at least two ‘songs’ with ‘singing’.
Who knows.
At Last I am Free
Still sounds totally amazing to this day. I think the original is beautiful too but the super sparse and simple arrangement make this so striking. And then his voice………
But what if music was or is….
I’ve mentioned Andy Goldsworthy before, when talking about ephemarilty in music before and watching this made me think about it all over again.
I know that music is fleeting, temporary but our documenting of it undoes that ( not that I think that is a negative thing ). But imagine if the documenting of that transitory moment could only be done by those there and not with recorded sound. If all you had was a description in words and sound told and made by those that witnessed it. How would it sound to you then? Would it be as strong or would it be altogether something greater drawn of the imagination?
Is this irony?
(subtitled mild rage, subtitled ‘I don’t what it means anymore’)
I came across the above photo via the lovelies at The Sound Is Not Asleep and their Facebook page (I think it originates from Jamie Tate of The Rukkus Room (looking in the corner)).
Whilst I do note a wry irony in the making of music on a gamillion pounds worth of equipment only for it to be consumed on cheap kit using a form of data compression that removes a whole lot of the frequency spectrum, that’s not the noteworthy point.
Without the mp3 format I’d imagine about 98% of the music made in studios wouldn’t be heard by anyone beyond the friends and family of those making it. And there’s the rub. Mp3’s crappy quality aside, they allow us to share what we create so easily. And it’s the sharing that’s the important bit, getting people to hear what you do. We can bitch all we like, we just want to be listened to. And that’s also why we bitch. Or is that irony?
Life has been super hectic of late and consequently I have posted nothing. There has been a gig (with Public Service Broadcasting) which was a real blast. There is a gig this weekend too with Her Name is Calla at The Firebug in Leicester.
And I’ve been listening to Kate Bush. And Tortoise. A lot.
Came across this fabulous article via the ever wonderful Des Coulam’s Sound Landscapes Blog – a site I thoroughly recommend you follow. I was particularly drawn to the last paragraph of this article.
‘“You never listen” is not just the complaint of a problematic relationship, it has also become an epidemic in a world that is exchanging convenience for content, speed for meaning. The richness of life doesn’t lie in the loudness and the beat, but in the timbres and the variations that you can discern if you simply pay attention.’
peter wyeth 