Hanging in there, and hoping you are too.
The Buster Keaton Maneuver
Bridges of Königsberg (my improvising trio with David Collins and Peter J. Woods) has a new record, and I’d love to share it with you. David supplies a backbone of turbulent and kaleidoscopic modular synthesis material; I layer in generative digital synthesis and off-kilter beats; and Peter tops it off with a range of theatrical mayhem conducted via guitar pedals, electric violin, mandolin, home-brew synths and vocalizations. It’s a hyper-caffeinated, rainbow-hued mess, except for the part where it’s remarkably well-organized (which is to say: my bandmates are talented improvisers, and capable of making compelling compositional architectures on the fly). All three of us experience enormous joy in the making of this music, and hope you’ll get a similar experience from listening. Please direct your ears to The Buster Keaton Maneuver - and if you are inclined to purchase, know that proceeds will go directly to the bandmate whose household is experiencing what I will politely call “COVID-19-related economic impact” but might be more appropriately described as “bad sh*t.”
If you find that you need even more BoK in your life, the fine people at Orb Tapes recently put out a live recording of ours on a split with Moth Bucket. It’s from around the same time (April 2019) as the Buster Keaton Maneuver studio sessions (May 2019), which makes for an interesting compare-and-contrast. And it’s available on cassette for all of your tangible/obsolete-media needs…
Bandcamp Day(s)
Speaking of which, Bandcamp is waiving their revenue share for purchases today (May 1) as well as on June 5 and July 3, and thereby juicing the funds they direct to artists and labels. If you have the resources available, buying records today and on the following first Fridays is a great way to support independent musicians.
As encouragement, I thought I’d take a moment to spotlight some records - some new, some old, but all music that has been meaningful to me.
Rashad Becker Traditional Music of Notional Species vol. 1: a sound synthesis masterclass, and a fantastical work of imagination.
Kyle Bruckmann gasps & fissures: in which the virtuoso oboist discovers the ways in which he might use multitrack recording to turn his instrument into lovingly detailed sheets of sound.
clipping. Splendor & Misery: the most revelatory album I’ve discovered via Bandcamp; if you don’t think that experimental hip-hop space opera about the aftermath of a slave rebellion is your thing, listen anyway.
Fhloston Paradigm AFTER…: the best kind of daydream. Too intricate to be “ambient,” but languid and loose.
Shiva Feshareki NEW FORMS: I thought the possibilities for turntable-as-musical-instrument were pretty well mapped. I am delighted to be wrong about that.
Stine Janvin Fake Synthetic Music: if Rashad Becker creates organic texture from synthetic means, Janvin makes striking synthesizer music using only her voice.
Yarn/Wire Currents vol. 6: this record, featuring meticulously detailed compositions for pianos and percussion (plus…) by Olivia Block and Sarah Hennies, has provided both comfort (sumptuous, imaginative textures) and challenge (striking moments of disruption) during the past month.
Come to think of it, all of these albums are in some way about the creative reconceptualization of technique (or conceptual frame). Hmm. That wasn’t a plan, but it certainly says something about my taste.
At the workbench
Work on the software instrument I’ve written about in previous newsletters is slow, but continuing. And maybe “slow” is the point right now - as someone whose work has mostly tended towards velocity, I’m finding that present circumstances are encouraging me to look for ways to make a slower and more spacious music.
I’m pursuing similar thoughts for the visuals associated with the project - thinking about artists like Carlos Cruz-Diez and Dan Flavin who create complex, textured, temporal visual experiences using relatively or entirely static imagery, and wondering how that might translate into a digital animation format. As a starting point: layers of partially transparent simple shapes, with each shape independently making small movements. (Also: pushing myself to be more daring in my use of color).
Nonce
John Granzow drew this cartoon in February, but he might have anticipated something about our current relationship to screen time?
Or it might just be a portrait of me at my desk.
Thanks for reading, best wishes, and stay safe,
Christopher
Christopher Burns
http://sfsound.org/~cburns