slowing down

slow

While I’ve been less than prolific over the past few months, I have been playing around with bits and pieces of things and recording what I can. One of those things I’ve been doing is composing odd little rhythms and loops on the virtual tape deck of the Teenage Engineering OP-1. The analog workflow and out-of-date feel of composing on this machine is what makes it one of my favorite instruments. There’s no quantizing, there’s no automation. If the synths on the OP-1 were any good (really, can’t we have just one normal old subtractive synth with predictable results?), and if I could control the tape deck with MIDI (for recording the guitar as I’m playing), it would quite possibly be the only device I’d need.
I often sit down with the OP-1 after some time off from it and just listen to the six minutes of tape, just to see what’s on there before I erase it. I’m almost always surprised with some string of sounds that I don’t remember making and have no idea how I made them. At this point I dump these sequences and loops into a folder on the computer and forget all about them again until, again months later, I accidentally stumble across the files while looking for something else. It’s a problem.

Last week, while laid up with a nasty post-holiday head cold and stomach bug, I was working on finishing up the production on some work I’m doing for the audiobook of a book I illustrated (more on this later, but you can get the gist of it here. I was trying to nail down a good version of, all things, Old MacDonald Had a Farm for this project and tried creating it with the OP-1. This didn’t work at all, but somewhere in the process I slowed the tape deck down to less than 1/4 speed. The “tape” was running past the section I was working on and onto a little bit of percussion loop I’d created a while back. At 1/4 speed it sounded, how do I put this, so cool.

The six minutes of tape (at full speed — more like 28 minutes slowed down) was full of little 12-15 second bits that became these dramatic drawn-out pieces. What was a rhythmic mis-timing at full speed became separate beats slowed down. What was a single odd quarter note became a five-second augmented chord. Digital glitches and fragments become purposeful. I really love this stuff.

I was able to pull ten discrete pieces out of the whole works, which I posted on Soundcloud and put up for purchase ($2.00) on Bandcamp.

This is the contents of the entire tape at normal 1:1 speed.

[audio:http://dancerobotdance.com/audio/slow_side_a.mp3]

I can’t say it’s accidental, since truthfully the original short loops are purposefully composed, if haphazardly. But it was definitely an accidental discovery and I plan to dive into this and try to make more. (Along these lines, anyone know of any way to mod my Tascam reel-to-reel to play at quarter and eighth-speeds? Or is there a cassette tape deck that can pull this off?)

shapes into fortresses

shapes become fortresses

Working from home today and hung with a crummy cold. I had the bright idea to collect some tracks into a second release on Bandcamp. The four tracks here were all recorded around October 2012 and consist almost entirely of a baritone ukulele sampled and looped with the MakeNoise Phonogene module and the Harvestman Tyme Sefari mk2 module. All of them appeared here originally, and the fourth track was originally part of the Disquiet Junto.

Link here.

ligneclair

I’ve recorded a whole lot of music over the last seven years or so, but either never connected enough of it together to make anything like an “album,” or never really have got around to it.

These pieces I’ve recorded this summer with the looping guitar kind of came together and I think they work. So if you’re so inclined, head over to Bandcamp and get the release. Don’t forget to download the “bonus” PDF as well.

It’s a free download with the option to pay something if you like. I’d love to get some feedback on this; the use of Bandcamp, the tracks, the music itself. I hope to start doing this more often, creating series of works that hold together in some way, rather than the fits, starts, and pieces of things that I currently have on my Soundcloud account.

Here are the liner notes from the accompanying PDF booklet:

Dance Robot, Dance was begun in 2007 as a forum on which to write about that which I love, which is making electronic music. Back then, everything was made with a sequencer of some kind, and typically a synthesizer. Hence, Dance Robot, Dance.

In 2011 I began taking guitar lessons and while sequencing and oscillators are still important to what I hear and do, my Jazzmaster has kind of become the other woman, as it were, with whom I spend more of my free time than maybe I should. It’s a bit ironic to me that this first “release” I am making under the name Dance Robot, Dance is strictly electric guitar.
The tracks that make up Ligneclair were created with a sparkly blue Fender Jazzmaster, a pretty white Rivera Venus 3 and a shiny Vox Night Train amp, a Pigtronix Infinity looper, a Strymon El Capistan looper/delay, and an Electro-Harmonix Stereo Memory Man with Hazarai looper/delay. Several other stompboxes were employed as well. The recordings were made on June 27, 2013 and July 28, 2013 with a Electrovoice microphone and the line-out of the Rivera amp, recorded to Ableton Live via a Motu 828 mk3, and edited therein. Most of the tracks were left complete, front to back, with only a little EQ or somesuch added. A few of the tracks were originally 10-20 minutes of looping redundancy and were therefore edited in Ableton.

I know nada about mixing or mastering, so what you hear is what you get. Send suggestions my way.

These tracks were orginally posted on Soundcloud and I would like to thank the various Soundcloud users who “liked” and commented on them, thus encouraging this project.

The landscape photos on the tracks as well as this PDF were shot in June, 2013 along the highway north of Queenstown, New Zealand, at Landis Pass. It’s a lovely part of the world and you should try and visit if possible.

Brian Biggs
August 16, 2013