Paper Lamps

I've been busy lately with the demands of the advertising world, recording sessions and non-electronic music, but I've been working on a few bits and pieces in the spare moments. I've been enjoying pushing the envelope with the gnarly side of FM synthesis and cross modulation, finding the nasty sounds with instruments traditionally associated with the slick, bell-like tones ubiquitous in the pop and soundtrack music of the 1980's. It's more fun when you find something a little scary and try to make it into something beautiful than when you start with a well-groomed and presentable palette.

For some reason, I see glowing paper lamps when I hear this number. Don't ask me why...I have no idea.

Color Field

I had a conversation recently about synesthesia as it relates to music. Synesthesia, according to Wikipedia, is "a neurologically based phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway." People who experience synesthesia with music often associate or "see" certain colors with certain sounds, pitches or keys.

I imagine that, at some level, people associate stimulation of one sense with another. I'm not certain where this comes from--could it be from associations we make from our everyday experiences? For example, parsley always smells green to me, but is that because I know that parsley is the color green and my mind creates an association? Does this happen for you? Do just-baked chocolate chip cookies smell light brown to you?

I'm not sure if I am officially a synesthete, but I have always associated musical textures with hues of color and shapes, and this is part of the language I use when working with other musicians to describe ideas or direction. When I make ambient soundscapes, working with pure sound and texture is the main focus. Light and shade, bright and dark, hot and cold, sharp and dull.

For this piece, I wanted to play up the rich, glowing hues and saturation I love in the work of Mark Rothko. I deliberately dialed back the detail and played on the "colors" of the tones and, particularly, how the frequencies blended and created new colors when stacked together. I hope you enjoy.

Meteor Shower

Nature puts on the best shows, sometimes. A few weeks ago, there was a late night meteor shower visible from my house. I was working late in the studio and recorded this ambient environment with the mysteries of space in my thoughts. I'd recommend headphones to get the full benefit of floating in an extraterrestrial vacuum.

Saucer Rise

I've made straight ahead rock/roots/pop/folk/? music for a long time. I love the pure perfection of a 2-3 minute pop or honky tonk classic where everything just clicks into place so well that you are compelled to play it a few times in succession. From the Everly Bros to the early Who singles to a fat southern soul slice of O.V. Wright, hitting the listener hard and getting out before they know it is the name of the game.

These potent little pre-wrapped gems are great-- they take all of your attention, elevate your blood pressure and pretty much obliterate your troubles with their intoxicating mojo, at least temporarily. However, I've always found them to be a bit distracting if you're trying to do something like concentrate at work, read a magazine or follow a complicated recipe when cooking a big dinner (ok, maybe that's a stretch).

My workdays consist of computer oriented tasks like writing, editing, web stuff, research, emails--basically, communicating thoughts or soaking them up. For this sort of thing, listening to prime songwriting doesn't work for me because it completely breaks my concentration. I listened to jazz and classical music for years, but I really got into ambient and dub music a few years back and really grew to love it both in and out of work. Ambient music is not designed to grab you like a killer song, but it can alter your perception of your environment, encourage a productive and contemplative state or provide great "sonic design" for your surroundings, like an Eames chair in a home office with superior Feng Shui.

I'm not claiming that this ambient piece will do all of those things, but feel free to listen to it when you're concentrating on something else. The piece unfolds over 5 minutes, and I was thinking about a slowly evolving event, like perhaps a sunrise. I used a vaguely similar sonic palette to Evening Porch Bugs, and I'm still exploring that space with this one.

I've included some beautiful images that my wife took of the bridge that connects East Nashville to downtown. The light of the sun looks otherworldly on the rough metal structure.

Evening Porch Bugs

I'm happy to be recording music again, thanks to my new studio setup. A spent computer monitor pushed me to do what I've been meaning to do for a while, which is completely rethink and replace much of my gear. It's not a decision to be rushed. So now, I'm staying busy scaling a new learning curve for my new software (Apple Logic) and getting used to using a Mac again, and I love it.

I've been hanging out on the porch a lot lately in the evenings, enjoying the noises of the forest. If you close your eyes on a quiet evening, it's amazing the music you'll hear. So much great textural complexity and ambience is created on a deep and wide "stereo field."

Here's a sonic collage inspired by porch music that I've recorded using entirely electronic means--primarily synths and samplers (from Reason software) treated and "played" with various effects. It's meant to evoke an environment, with an emphasis on ambience over structure. I recommend headphones for the full effect.

Ahhh, summer is almost here :)