Contact microphones on a Bang & Olufsen Beogram 1202 that I acquired this week, a tape loop and some pink noise. You get the picture. This is what happened.
An accidental cacophony that is much more harsh than one had intended. Four tape loops grinding at one another in the form of tape gunk.
With only a tired brain and withered hands to contol a tape loop, analog electronics and some metal, this gloom-laden weirdo was born.
A renaissance of less movement, a disregard for time and suspension of logic, brains rekindled the prospect of other sound. Or not.
With the weather predicted to remarkably decline this weekend, I took it as a thematically convenient time to dig out The Tempest on vinyl. Tape loops were then created from intermittent and incidental sounds on the record and slowed and stretched out. Synths added, live. Job done for a version of The Tempest.
Shame the weather stayed so nice, really.
A slightly redacted version of a jam by Adam Denton (guitar, electronics), Luke Twyman (drums) and Kevin Sanders (electronics, metal, tapes).
Having failed to press the record button last night, a growing knowledge of contemporary physics were used to travel backwards through space and time to rectify the problem. Unfortunately, the recording of the session wasn’t very good, but the magnetic tape that I travelled back with had been transformed by latter day electrodes.
Cosmic dust, gravitational pulls and intense nuclear fallout seem to have caused the hollow drones, bleeps, creaks and molten tones.