Ham is a space-face spaced out homage to the first great ape in Space, Ham, named after the Holloman Aeromedical Laboratory, who safely returned from Space in January 1961.

"he had a smile on his face -- 
but," said the experts,
"that's a sign of great distress,
that's a sign of great distress"

Dedicated to Laurence Crane on his Birthday. 

Live Recording at St Giles Cripplegate 18/10/21

Performers: 
Ben Smith - Piano 
Patrick Hegarty - Sampler
Matt Geer - Organ
Christian Drew - Guitar 
Darius Paymai - E. guitar

Electronic piece composed in 2014 and mended in 2022!

Studio Mastering: lorenzotarghetta@gmail.com

V-idiom

This track is more or less an accident.

 i hope you enjoe that one.

GRINDER

Sensen - Cldscp

Color remains
The frame opens up with an introduction,
The words move forward,
Red and purple;
Browsing time is set to a 20 second visual.
After leaving the theatre, it’s cast
Spreading across the road
Like syrup, cut with silver light.
But the candles don’t help.
Start tucking the sheets underneath the mattress
And the red candle in the back.
Pulling strings and hooks to make something happen
Is always a slip-up.
Waiting for another drink and browse the backlight,
Again and again, dozens and hundreds
Of times.
You see a fog;
This is translated into swirled fragments.
A plate of biscuits lays in front
Of your bare feet,
And you contemplate for a moment
Before stepping back on them.

Step forward with one foot,
For the rest of your days.
And the money isn’t good.
Let the tea soak for a moment;
The red stands still.
It grows within cold skin,
Mouth, and unresponsive eyes.
The soil below is covered with a layer of tall grasses,
Each clump out of view.
It is the year’s circles sprouting and growing,
The height twisting and expanding outwards again.
Forests live in your garden
And several can be seen
Sitting under a parasol,
Trying to reverse the energy’s flow.
The glass shop fronts hum softly
And the empty houses sleep
While the energy is preserved
In the attic of cold wet wood.
Time is asleep;
Rest with cloudy mind and single point of focus for four minutes.
The city’s bricks rotted away
Into multi-chromatic eyes.
Then focus finally settles on
The hoses laid out
Red, blue, green and yellow.
The next scene opens with shambling
Red shoes,
Outstretched towards honey,
A soft steady fall in filter-bag cloth;
A body woven out of rubber bands
Is unable to stand,
While a food processor emits a bouncy steady rhythm
Made the motor hum,
And the melodies develop and
Carry the action to its conclusion.
I always worry where I’m going to sleep.

Suddenly a soft breeze seems to blow
Between the massive buildings;
The white noise of the line
Becomes a monotonous drone,
Ruled over by the rising and falling tones.
You don’t even notice when it stops,
The noise is gone,
But no one seems to be surprised by this,
And you forget how you ever communicated before.
The sound of silence is like a locomotive
Rolling through the room.
The soft hiss of cables breaking
Makes you wonder what the hell is going on.

It is an obsession
That grows out of the fragmenting nature of cheap smiles;
The soap-opera appeals to the lowest common denominator,
While the landscape feels like it is
Crumbling.
The sun hangs low
And
A galaxy of stars
Shines through
A car window.
The colors reflect
Off of your skin.
Your smile glows.
The sound of blown grass
Rains down on the scene
That will be in the next show.
It’s the
Taste of
Candy colors,
Which is all that remains
In a blank slate
And a fresh start.
The memories may fade,
But their colors remain,
Glaring in their brightness
And
Frustration.

•cC°/⁄∆…•˙ ’ \⁄‘°o ı|•

FADE IN [or ECHOES OF SILENCE?]:

INT. THEATRE - NIGHT [or DARK ENSEMBLE?]

The curtains slowly rise on the blank stage, revealing an enigmatic presence fixed in a trance-like state. Emerging gradually from the shadows, the unidentified figure initiates their art with an opening chord. Instantly, the atmosphere is transformed with a velvet-black ambiance [or twilight abyss?] and a mysterious glow that seems to swirl and dance in the background [1].

CUT TO:

AN INTRICATE TAPESTRY OF VERNACULAR [or LANGUAGE LABYRINTH?]

We hear a cacophony of colliding sounds and reverberations, accompanied by a palpable intensity that fills the chamber. The camera pans across the chaos of cross-talking and crests and troughs as the music ebbs and flows, before settling on a serenely secret scintilla of spliced synesthesia that emerges from the pandemonium [2]. A suggestive sprightly spillage of entwined euphony ignites the air with an escalating fervor as the music hums and hastens, with rogue and ruse rippling in a raft of rabble [3].

CUT TO:

A SYMPHONY OF CHUCKLES AND CHISELS [or LAUGHTER AND LITERARY LINES?]

A deliriously dissonant chaos of cloverleaf cloistering, a melodious medley of sparks and embers that arise and swirl with each crescendo [4]. We hear the enigmatic energy taking form, bewildering and befuddling with its bold babbling. It blurs and then burgeons into a symphony of chuckles and chisels, each sculpting and savoring its way into a sonic sensuality [5].

CUT TO:

A BIZARRELY BEGUILING VISTA [or ENCHANTING EERIE LANDSCAPE?]

The journey winds through a warbling world, whirling through wryness, whimsy, and wit before finally delivering us to a bizarrely beguiling vista [6]. The camera lingers on this strange and foreign place, capturing its surreal and disorienting beauty [7].

CUT TO:

INT. THEATRE - NIGHT (LATER) [or REVERBERATING RUINS?]

The enigmatic figure is now in full view of the camera, but their identity is obscured by the atmospheric distortion that now fills the room [8]. The music has reached a frenzied crescendo, and the camera shakes and shudders with the vibrations [9]. Suddenly, there is a loud crash, and the figure disappears from view.

CUT TO:

INT. THEATRE - NIGHT (MOMENTS LATER) [or POST-APOCALYPTIC AFTERMATH?]

The music has stopped, and the atmosphere is beginning to clear [10]. The camera pans across the stage, revealing a scene of chaos and destruction. The unidentified figure is lying on the ground, their instrument shattered into pieces.

DIRECTOR (off-screen)
Cut! Cut! What the hell was that?

CAMERAMAN (off-screen)
I don't know, man. It just went to hell.

DIRECTOR (off-screen)
We can't use any of this. We need to reshoot the whole thing.

CUT TO:

INT. THEATRE - DAY (NEXT DAY) [or MORNING MOURNFULNESS?]

The curtains rise once again, and the enigmatic figure initiates their art anew. This time, the music is slow and mournful, and the camera focuses on the shattered remains of the instrument on the ground [11]. As the music continues, we see the figure begin to piece a campfire from the broken fragments of their creation [12].

CUT TO:

A GENTLE FADE OUT [or THE FINAL NOTE?]

As the music fades to silence, the curtains slowly close, and the camera lingers on the crackle of the [1].

[1] Flames? Or more of an ethereal light?
[2] Maybe a more specific example of the synesthesia? Or focus on the harmony?
[3] Consider simplifying this sentence - too much alliteration?
[4] Sparks and embers seem repetitive - change one?
[5] "Salivating" could be "savoring"?
[6] Mention specific visuals?
[7] How can we show this beauty? What does it look like?

[9] What if the camera's shake is more subtle?
[10] Could the smoke clear to reveal a specific image/message?

[13] Does the guitar need to play a significant role throughout?

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/KbHTR5DusbM

‘˘ •Øö Oπ°∑ø˚'¨

Deimos and Eris

I did this track in response to Disquiet Junto Project 0595: Filter Progression. Below are the steps I took.

Steps:

-record a tone using a single back-and-forth motion with bowed bass guitar
-in Reaper, stretch it to 1/10 speed retaining original frequency
-record onto 1/4" tape @ 7 1/2 ips 
-play back at half-speed (3 3/4 ips), creating a ~7-minute passage
-feed into Erica dual black VCF
-modulate cutoff & resonance by hand
-add both slewed and direct voltages from Ornament-8 into the filter
-record result, mix for small speakers, master

Ham

Lara Agar

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Matt Geer

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