Limited edition cassette tape and digital download available to purchase from The Silent Howl at:
thesilenthowl.bandcamp.com/album/two-sound-objects

Track A, AllAoneOnASmallIslandSomewhereInTheMiddleOfNowhere was constructed as a sound score for dancer/choreographer Melissa Pasut and pianist Philip Thomas. It is fundamentally an electroacoustic analysis of a very brief no-input mixing board improvisation in which the interaction of extrapolated tones (imprecisely tuned intervals) are subjected to all manner of speed/pitch tape manipulation and then blended in order to generate a multitude of difference and combination tones, phasing, beating and aural perceptions or illusions. This last aspect is of extreme importance to a human body in motion within a physical space into which this music is being projected, as the frequencies will alter drastically depending on their position to the speakers. Therefore, what was static is static no longer. A state of mutual passivity is exchanged for one of reflected kinesis…an animated feedback loop between cell, sinew, bone and sound.


Track B, HazyGhosts(LifeIsSad) was constructed from two long improvisations with myself on no-input mixing board and Graham Dunning on live coding, spring reverbs and various efx pedals. For this piece I utilised a form of acoustic, albeit abstracted, origami (or perhaps breadmaking would be a more appropriate analogy), wherein each significant musical element within both of the two improvisations were isolated, modulated (usually with the aid of assorted cassette or reel-to-reel tape recorders) and then repeatedly and continuously folded back into themselves until intricate rhythmic patterns and quasi-elusive musical shapes began to emerge. These patterns and shapes were consequently cut up and subjected to further acts of sonic elaboration and enfoldment until it came to a point (almost exactly one year later) when, as the painter Francis Bacon would have it, the composition began to let me know that it was time to stop. The end result is a seemingly amorphous drift of electronic textures, bringing to mind certain aspects of Brian Eno’s On Land recording as well as some of the more languorous passages of Roland Kayn’s later generative compositions. Although both of the above are completely unintentional allusions, Konstantin Lopushansky’s 1986 film Letters from a Dead Man was a constant source of inspiration during the compositional process in regards to its sombre portrayal of the aftermath of a major nuclear disaster, infusing the senses with the sights and sounds of a post-apocalyptic, hellish world, luxuriant with death, destruction, decay and radioactive pollution.