Boil yourself in this loop
If you’d like to attempt a Poetic Extraction of this Loop yourself, please use the fields provided below to record written impressions of your experience!
Listen to the above loop for 30 minutes and record your experiences. You may write down anything you are hearing, you may also list words or images that the sounds evoke, or write down any thoughts that occur to you while listening, even if they seem to be out of the no where. You may also simply describe the sounds as you hear them. Every stray thought counts.
tl;dr – listen to the loops and write down your thoughts while you listen.
This information is for academic and creative purposes only, it will inform my writing and conclusions for this art project, and I will only post about it here on this website. Your personal information will not be shared.
Some Previous Interpretations…
Poetic Extraction -30min-
My hands are moving
How could you
Hand me the small toy from that pile
Graciously, ill take the yams
Unpack a box that I found in the attic
Coming together to peer
Over shoulders, its a whole crowd
My, we could have had it but the wood panaling
The wood comes up to my shoulder
I have hidden the keys
We can find the place together, it is just downstairs
Why can’t we find out with more peering?
A small yellow car pulls up
There is a dog across the street its yapping
The breeze grabs my paper
The corners of the scone crumble away and fall on the sidewalk
I have come close to my failure but I swerve at the last minute
Could you find out how the birds know where to circle?
Its Wednesday, its Thursday we have to sit and then move fast
Could you go and clean out the upright booth?
Sharpen the kitchen knives, but not so much
There was a small argument, in the doorway
I open the wrapping paper slowly, there is movement in the box
The smallest black wheels on white granite
Could you slow down? There is a bee
I reach my hands out and stretch to the very limit
We can find out what comes next by plunging
I shake the leg and then I move to the right
We don’t find what we are looking for
I can hear a small disagreement
its hard to clean cheese out of a carpet
We can’t have you guys coming here anymore
I can’t swing it
Im still mad
But we can tell the story if we clean these books up off the floor
Sit down in the comfortable chair
Why can’t my family be here
There wants I can smell from my place at the back of the closet
I know that its here somewhere
Going through the underwear drawer, or is it just full of small cloths?
We can agree to disagree, but you may not come here again
The rain makes the dark grit from the yard look lighter
I can see a child’s action figure next to a masked up sandwich and plastic wrappers
Have you stopped here at the house?
People aren’t usually given to coming here
My basis for reality is the cover of the pool
I thought this place was abandoned, not ready to go
I can swing a small bowel over my head without dropping anything
Get wrapped up in the time threads and we can run right out of the house
Grab your bug out bag
We’re just going down the hill no big deal
I look to the end of the house and I see the bowl full of red liquid
We can’t find that one important paper
Finally I have enough barrels to get this done
Done, don’t eat me further
We can sit here and sharpen pencils all day
But then we can’t leave
I part the thin reeds I’m up to my knees
We can’t see what was was, we can’t see what is was either
There is something wrong with my phone
There is something wrong with my hands
I know those are real words but I suddenly can’t read
Everything is exhausting
Four large columns, made of plastic made to be forever
I can feel the rough surface made to feel like stone
My skin is oily
It is of no advantage to me
dust vaults into the air in great blooming clouds
We have the best knives here at camp
There are shit knives down the hill
We can play the game here or we can go somewhere dumber
A box of marbles will cost you
A bag of pieces less so
I hold in my arms a small cat that squirms
We can find out what its thinking by being quiet
There is a small mouse running up and down the sill
I can feel the muffins I’m going to have next year
We can get grease out of the trap with the fork
We can lend a man a dust pan as we drive by that’ll show him
I unleash the bag of candy into the group
We can. Discover the method of the game by chanting
You’re screen seems to be having some difficulty
We must all invoke the consenting opinion before we can share the trip
Just show me what we have to work with
Is it all glue?
White buds on the end of a stick
Where in the pond did you drop your heavy hat?
Gnashing of teeth never looked so sweet
We can get behind the plan, but its written on wet naps
We must continue rubbing everything down
We have to unburden the raisins
We can drop them on the floor and run, covering our escape
Six thresher blades tingle in the distance
Open the back door and the front door get some air in here
The business end of the wrench is too heavy for my hand but not your head
We have the best right way
To do it
We can do it
Feeling positive that the correct paper is here in this house
The sound of the house coming apart very slowly
So slow that it melds with the dust accruing
Stuffs off our body and finds something better
We’ve got the worst part to contend with I can find a place for all these attendants
Do you know what the correct route is?
E E E E. E. EEE. E. E. E. EEEE
will we ever get to run?
Work Tapes used to make this loop:
Work Tape A “the building”
This tape is from 2010. It is made in a very specific manner: it is the sound of an open loop (a loop where the recording/overdub function is left on), wherein an electric mandolin is plugged in and unplugged repeatedly. It is a fascinating tape to me because it sounds purposeful to me, even thought I know for a fact, from vivid personal memory, that it was the result of a wild unrestrained method that had very little sonic focus; the score for this composition is just to turn everything on and plug and unplug the mandolin. this tape was marked on by a child, a girl who lived on the block who came in my workshop with one of my roommates.
Work Tape B “burgerman”
This is a tape from around 2002. The sound is a recording straight to tape of big room where in everyone was having a small party to some degree, where there is a jam session in one corner and excited convo in the other. The female voice in the background with the thick French accent is a very old close friend of mine. The tape is nicknamed burgerman because of all the sonic evidence of people consuming burgers on it. Its very subtle but its there, to me. Its a sonic secret that is hard for me to even keep in my mind, but every time I listen to this tape, my mind goes “WTF this tape sounds like burgers?”, and I get a craving for burgers. I remember someone coming into the party and saying, “here are the burgers, I am the burgerman”.
Work Tape C “oora”
This tape is from 2008. Its a few moments from a series of recording sessions using a modified Casio keyboard built for the Iranian market. On the excerpt you can hear that this is a recording straight to a tape deck in open air, as you can hear the sounds of the tape recorder recording fade up. I was doing a show at Monkey Town, the only exciting concept restaurant open then. This tape fills me with anxiety, but the case is not known now. Whatever was happening back then has faded from memory, but the sound still fills me with dread, but only dread, not bad memories. This is an important distinction.
Work Tape D “redstudio”
This tape is from 2009. It was still relatively rare to encounter people with full modular synth setups. On tour in the Netherlands, I came upon an artist friend who had one in his studio, and I sat down and tried to make sound with whatever patch he had set up and couldn’t do much. To this day I like this tape because its all sounds of synth failure and synth un-expertise, and it stands among my collection of “terrible sounds that come from the first time anyone sits down with a strange instrument”.