March 31, 2013

At the reggae stage door people see right past me. This is what I want, being an element that does not disturb the chemical balance, and can just observe it taking place.


Sounds of childhood

March 31, 2013

Fascination of buttons, switches, the precise degree of connectivity to electrical power sources. How does a switch flick? What latent powers does it hold? Clunk, click, chunk, thunk. The switch connects you elsewhere. The beginning of a fiction.

Old circuits

March 31, 2013

Those amps, those tape recorders, they offered control, and the synthesis of new worlds. It was a set of possibilities. These were ways which could be used to get one up on other people, groups. They could advance you.


November 29, 2012

This box was, I think, a christmas present. It seemed to always be pristine, aesthetically – entirely untainted, if that’s the right word, by my enotional life. It offered not a slice of past memories, but if anything, future ones, or more accurately, possibilities and routes of thinking. It was a road map of sorts. Or more accurately a drug, or a brain aide.


October 27, 2012

Kevin Drumm’s The Kitchen is stamped or stenciled with instrument credits in mock metal font. The idea is sounds around the house, filtered (electronically, intuitively) through this equipment, each instrument separated by a comma, like a list of programming instructions. You gaze at them and wonder how the puzzle all fits together. We will never know, but the spirit in which he puts them together is felt as a force.

Record player

October 26, 2012

I spent ages balancing this thing. The sound is fathomless with no gaps, a kind of quitely chaotic animal presence. It will continue spinning until there’s a power cut, and you measure the little moments of your life against an LP’s duration.

Headphone jack

October 24, 2012

The 3.5mm to 1/4″ adapter opens up an evening of sounds. Now I can plug in, heaphones clamped around my head, a direct channel to the vibrations of the spinning disc.

The record in question, Crowded by Kevin Drumm, is a quiet maelstrom of tones, seemingly ever-descending like an Escher staircase. It is an elegant hall of mirrors to get lost in. The symphony of noises that Drumm arranges has a lot of love in it, with balance, poise and depth, and every sound breathing. It is more powerful, elegant and towering than the spaces of everyday life.

Press play and record

June 27, 2012

Ar a friend’s, who had a coveted tape of James Bond themes, it suddenly clicked that duplicating tapes was a formula that worked anywhere with the standard equipment. Soundwise this was something for nothing, ta otal immersive experience crystallized out of thin air. And music was still, in a generalnsense, scarce. This is where the search for knowledge started. I had to have it all, like a squirrel storing nuts.


June 25, 2012

I was fascinated by the way an amplifier remained live seconds after you flicked the switch off. The sounds would start to crumble away in the air, like ice melting beneath your feet.

Capacitors, my dad explained.

Everytime you flicked it on, you wonder when the power was coming on stream. Inside the amp, capacitors warming up and ready to disgorge their charge.

What is the underground

April 18, 2012

A place to pose alternative ways of living, in theory. But at least in practice, somewhere where strategies for persistence are forged. It is a space where people find ways to make the space persist.

I think about trips on the nightbus home – the nightly transition from outside to mainstream society. The sensation is of something more than entertainment. You relive meetings and encounters, and these inspire and influence day to day connections. If _this_ was possible, _this_ might be possible.