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And a new label for the Bullet,
in the shape of Sascha Stadlmeier's Attenuation Circuit, though we had no
idea where this was going to end up when we first saw this canine brass
quartet (pictured above) accompanying a compilation call out on Facebook
from the inimitable {AN} Eel. But, because it was him, we knew it would be
somewhere good, and who doesn't want to go somewhere good? It was an unusual
callout in the sense that it had no specific theme (musique du général,
geddit?), that was interesting in itself, but from where would come
inspiration without a theme? People normally told us what to do, and now we
were being asked to think for ourselves? I confess, a degree of panic set
in. I listened to a Hawkwind live album in the hope that something would
come to me.
"My mum's got a washing
machine!" So goes the shout, just prior to the encore, and then the album is
over.
No ideas come, nada. So I'm
just sat there, deep in thought, staring aimlessly into space. With no hope
in my heart, I walk up the stairs, marvelling at the embroideries we had
hung there to hide the wall that obscures our view of the house next door.
There must be answers in The Mmatterialisation Chamber, surely? I fight my
way past the overflowing laundry baskets on the landing to get there, but
still no concept was kindled. I sat in front of the computer screen,
catching up on the news of some money-laundering scandal. I shivered, early
February, a cold morning, probably should put the central heating back on
for a while, or I could just wear a jumper.
"You don't have any clean
ones," Sam tells me, "they're all in the wash, you haven't done any for a
fortnight."
Cold and devoid of sentient
thought, I was on the verge of giving up when the doorbell rang. Well,
knocked, we don't have a doorbell, now I come to think of it. Skit came
bouncing in, not one to stand on ceremony, or indeed wait for his knocking
to be answered.
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"Look
what Skit find!" He shouted joyously, holding up a bottle of fabric
conditioner, which he found hysterically funny because it was called
Magic Soft (*other fabric conditioners are available), and because he's
a man-child.
And then it hit me! Not the
fabric conditioner, his aim was off, luckily, I meant the idea. Washing! Why
hadn't I thought of it before? What if we were to take the washing machine
on a voyage of imagination, a journey into deep space in search of alien
life?
"And you call Skit a
man-child?"
So we bundled the towels in and
set about strategically placing four magnetic condenser microphones around
the accessible parts of the machine, finally Blu-Tacking (*other sticky blue
shit that takes paint off walls in big chunks is available) my Sony IC
Recorder to the transparent door. The 28 minute 30° eco cycle duly set (for
those worrying about the previously referred to state of the towels, please
be assured we did use laundry disinfectant), tea and biscuits it was.
o
The finished recordings were
quite fascinating, each sounding slightly different due to the varied
placing of the microphones. And bizarrely, the track recorded by the Sony IC
device was a fraction of a second out of synch by half way through. Although
initially annoyed by this as it really shouldn't happen, it turned out to be
beneficially serendipitous as we found it produced a really interesting
effect, akin to an old WEM Copycat (ask your dad). So much so that we
actually ended up playing around with the position in the mix of all the
tracks, spreading the five out across the full stereo spectrum and
ultimately adjusting the synch of each slightly. The result was a 27:58 (oh
yes, we're suing the washing machine manufacturer, 28 minutes, my arse) epic
cycle (pun intended), complete with the occasional glimpse of Magic family
life in the quieter bits (she never shuts up). Unfortunately, however, that
was a 'bit' longer then Mr. Eel had in mind.
"That's an EP!" He said, "Seriously, I'd much rather half that."
"B...b...but that would just be
a spin cycle. And the towels were attracting attention from SETI."
o
Not to be beaten, Skit and I
spent an hour or so carefully editing the track down to a more manageable
length, shortening each section, rather than removing anything, until we had
an end result that was this mini-epic 'cosmic voyage'. And, of course,
towels our mums would be proud of.
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