Trust a Beatle to create dance music. I’ve never heard this, but I know what it is. It’s Harrison experimenting with the new-fangled synthesizer which was threatening to change the musical world forever. It’s two long tracks, which I can only assume will mean a lot of bleeps and blops and not much of anything else. In case you weren’t aware, I also have a Youtube channel where I upload experimental ‘music’. Without the use of any musical instrument. I essentially recorded clips of others sounds, songs, myself talking, and using Text To Speech Software, and mashed it all together using nothing more than Windows Media Recorder on my ancient laptop. I have hundreds of these things, but I’ve only uploaded a handful because I foolishly decided that they each needed an individual video to accompany the noise. And making those videos takes forever. Some day I’ll just upload the noise as it is. I’m assuming Harrison’s album is like that. My stuff is terrible – but probably better than Harrison’s because I can at least get some enjoyment out of remembering how I made a certain sound. FYI – any track/video that begins with a Capital Letter is one I wrote. Anything beginning with a small letter is by a colleague – hence The Spac Twins. Go listen to my stuff. You will regret it.
Under The Mersey Wall: Crowd noise? Boats. Yes, this is precisely what I was expecting. Lasers. Space race. Tinkerbell with a flamethrower. An asthmatic lion. Hearth. Pinging Spac Twin Colleague as I listen. Up the M2. Fondling the knob. Why does all experimental music sound the same? Because we’ve all tapped into God. A man on the street below has arms too wide for his sleeves. Another is draped in a sheet for some reason, looks like a Nun with a mint-head habit. It’s funny because I imagine a pile of Beatles-obsessed kids sticking this on the turntable and 20 minutes later joining a cult. Or letting their dog swallow them. Crack open a MAGA’S skull and this emerges in a puff of dust. A Google Fi ad interrupts at the 10 minute mark. Then a jumpscare WOOOOOP! Mint Nun has vanished. A scale. I assume Harrison was naked while recording. I am naked now. Orb loop. Ghost Banana. Rod Serling.
No Time Or Space: Headbutting a fence. Like a toddler whacking something until Mummy comes. Oh no, here comes Mummy. Now they’re communicating via a series of whirls and open mouthed head-shakes. Mummy has fallen out a window into a wind tunnel. Channel static. Bubbles. Bath farts, but instead of water in the bath, it’s lava, and instead of your ass it’s a giant fly. Prosody. Now there’s a guy whose neck is thinner than a daisy stalk. Even though his skull is like a raindrop I’ve no idea how that neck can support it. Zipper up. Horror. Techno. Dance music would be better if it was just this. An abacus made of snow. Thunder in a cup. Another Youtube Ad – something about a chairboy. Moonraker. Attempting re-entry. Tech blast again. Spoons. Ten minutes left. Crash. Frog spawn. Grand Theft Roboto. A bee in a tube with a magnetic wasp. Cyborg cat leaping off cliff. Tie a whistle to your shlong and spin it around. Fireworks in a keyboard. Silence. Distant. More. BabaYaga O’Reilly. Going up the slippery dip in reverse. Means? Gizzard. Dying. End.
That was everything I hoped it would be, and now I never have to hear it again. For more of this, head on over to my Youtube channel and feel your brain give up. Let us know what you thought of Electronic Sound in the comments!
The Spac Hole 