The beginning and the end are worn.
Virtual instruments controlled by samples.
A G-man posing as a number station.
A preachy New Year’s reveler.
Ice calving from an iceberg.
A hammer strike.
Dronecast #38 Show Notes: https://fmonk.quasigentsia.com/archives/9270
Download: audio, video
You know, I have no idea what to call the artifacts of my work…oh, geez, pretentious much?
I have no idea what to call the audio I make. The genre it best marches is Drone…and even though it’s been around since the mid-twentieth century, few know of it.
And Drone has too many meanings
Radio controlled toys and flying death machines
Low ranked or oblivious worker
Mindless follower
Background noise
A musical form that played with note lengths and timing
An digital music genre that shapes overlapping waves
The sound of existence
Drone is the sound of the fabric of reality stretching to accommodate existence
It’s the self creating scofffold straining under the weight of being
That’s how I use the word Drone
This is a blog, so why don’t I blog any
Probably because all I’d have to say is I wish I were dead
Over and over and over again
I wish I were dead I wish I were dead
And who’d want to hear that
