Ten pulse sigil; adore, commence
Aug 16, 2022, 08:38 AM
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Composition by Clayton aka wiley soule.
"The rotary dial recording is cast here as an imperative, an invocation, a conjurer's lament and view, giving out onto potential. As a teen in the 80's my first meaningful encounter with telephones was by way of the rotary interface.
"Dialing was to open a portal to hope. Invoking it brought a sort of grappling with accompanying grief, the strain of desire, a quiet buckling under the stress of adolescent turbulence. I remember the excitement, bound up in the restlessness of my legs while the dial took its time returning to zero between each tremulous, circular gesture. I remember sweet dread of having my spirit conveyed along the line only to ricochet off the busy signal, the agony of a successive attempt, successful, the connection made, new ghosts rushing in, rummaging through my cluttered heart, searching for there names in my stuff.
"In those days, I never placed a call to chat about this or that. It was always a caper, an escape, a fuse hastening toward wonder and ache. I've tried to convey that here. This rotary recording is certainly not the same one from our home, but it has a familiar compressed-incantation feel and evokes a particular time, reminds me my current state of gratitude and uncertainty, two signals that seem necessarily to surge as a pair."
This is part of the Obsolete Sounds project, the world’s biggest collection of disappearing sounds and sounds that have become extinct – remixed and reimagined to create a brand new form of listening. Explore the whole project at https://citiesandmemory.com/obsolete-sounds
"The rotary dial recording is cast here as an imperative, an invocation, a conjurer's lament and view, giving out onto potential. As a teen in the 80's my first meaningful encounter with telephones was by way of the rotary interface.
"Dialing was to open a portal to hope. Invoking it brought a sort of grappling with accompanying grief, the strain of desire, a quiet buckling under the stress of adolescent turbulence. I remember the excitement, bound up in the restlessness of my legs while the dial took its time returning to zero between each tremulous, circular gesture. I remember sweet dread of having my spirit conveyed along the line only to ricochet off the busy signal, the agony of a successive attempt, successful, the connection made, new ghosts rushing in, rummaging through my cluttered heart, searching for there names in my stuff.
"In those days, I never placed a call to chat about this or that. It was always a caper, an escape, a fuse hastening toward wonder and ache. I've tried to convey that here. This rotary recording is certainly not the same one from our home, but it has a familiar compressed-incantation feel and evokes a particular time, reminds me my current state of gratitude and uncertainty, two signals that seem necessarily to surge as a pair."
This is part of the Obsolete Sounds project, the world’s biggest collection of disappearing sounds and sounds that have become extinct – remixed and reimagined to create a brand new form of listening. Explore the whole project at https://citiesandmemory.com/obsolete-sounds