And then, in the morning, around sunrise, the apparition machine arrives. 

I use that name for the street cleaner because it sounds is so psychedelic. It starts with the faintest whir amid the morning quiet. As it comes closer, you realize that it is really a buzz, even, but with slight, voicelike variations over time, as if somebody was singing a strange unknown vowel. Then you realize more and more notes are carried through the air from this source — an artwork of sounds, a multi-layered invisible thing that keeps moving closer, slowly but steadily like the Russian army around Kyiv. Lower and harsher frequencies appear out of nowhere until suddenly, your conceptual thinking cannot perceive this as anything else than The Sound Of A Street Cleaner. Right around that moment, a second machine takes up its work, and you have an avantgarde performance of music for a trash truck and a street cleaner. Monday is here. You need to hurry. There is no time. You can’t just sit here and listen. But the sheer absurdity of it reminds you that nothing is permanent.

Tags: ambient, electronic, minimal, week 26 2024, View by:colorful grey