Lured by the siren song of modular synthesis and DIY electronics, but not sure how to navigate the piles of requisite knowledge – or uncertain what the trip down this rabbit hole might have in store?

For years, Tom Whitwell’s Music Thing was a beloved daily read, as that site and this one were among the early blog-format destinations for music tech. Tom moved on – something about a major day-gig at a paper called The Times, perhaps named after the font? – but that makes us all the more delighted to get a dispatch from him. In this guest column for CDM, he introduces one project, a brilliant FM radio sequencer, but also helps us catch up on reading on modular synthesis and electronics dating back to the origins of the technology. And he has a realistic look at what this will do to your life – all inspired by “pure enthusiasm,” as he puts it, “this is fun, you should try it.”

Hey, isn’t that what the drug dealer said in those just-say-no instructional videos we watched in the 80s? Coincidence, I’m sure. -PK

Since buying a Eurorack modular synth a year ago, I’ve spent a lot of time building DIY synth modules and reading about synths and the people who build them. (See reading list, below, if you’d like to do the same.)

The hardest part of DIY electronics is starting out. My first step was building a few guitar pedal kits and learning by reading the Beavis Audio site. Other people start with noisemaker kits like the Atari Punk Console or circuit bending. They all lead in the same direction — down a very deep rabbit hole. 

There’s a lot to buy – a kind of infrastructure you need before doing anything – soldering kit, a multimeter, and a stock of components. None of it costs much, but it’s hard and disconcerting to buy. Online megastores like Farnell or Mouser will stock 50 versions of every component. Get the part number wrong, and you accidentally order capacitors as small as grains of sand, or as large as golfballs. Smaller stores – in the UK, I use http://www.bitsbox.co.uk/ - are easier because they only stock common hobby-friendly parts. 

After making a few guitar pedals, I moved onto synth modules. They’re a great DIY platform. The infrastructure is all there, in terms of power supply, case, inputs, and outputs. Parts are cheap, there’s a healthy and helpful community, and a nice learning curve, from basic utility modules to mind-bendingly complex frequency shifters and vocoders. 

In a year, I’ve built:

• a super-simple, chiptuney oscillator
• a tiny spring reverb driver
• a stupidly-complicated and blinkenlights-covered Arduino-powered Euclidean beat sequencer
• a very useful Arduino MIDI clock
• and a simple but handy 8-step sequencer (see video, below)

For this project, I was inspired by this quote from Don Buchla, the legend of west coast synthesis: 

“My studio at that time was ten feet wide. It was so crowded in there we hauled the workbench out on the sidewalk on good days and set up my oscilloscope and worked out there. [John] Cage came by and for voltage control I had hooked up my keyboard to an FM module that I’d built, a little module that was an FM receiver and I could play stations on it because I had one of the first varactor tuned FMs. Cage, as you can imagine, was just enormously interested in the fact that I could tune each key to a station and then proceeded to play the radio” ( Source [PDF] )

Thirty years later, Don released the 272e module (see Matrixsynth on the announcement), a $1250, four-channel polyphonic FM Tuner. There’s also the ADDAC102, a very fancy stereo €270 Eurorack module [see Synthtopia, with a video]. I wanted something quick, cheap and easy that would let me follow in Don and John’s footsteps. After a lot of searching and a few dead ends, I found the wonderful video demo, below, of a battery-powered FM sequencer based on a €15 radio kit from Germany. 

Projects like this follow a predictable curve. There’s a burst of experimental excitement at the start; receiving the crucial part, building the circuit on breadboard and realizing that — YES! — it’s going to work. 

Then comes a period of frustration and tedium. Re-buying a crucial part you blew up. Fiddling with the circuit so it responds just how you want it. Transferring the breadboard layout to a piece of perfboard, or designing a PCB and waiting for it to be made in China. If you’re using an Arduino or other programmable controller, there’s a long period of writing code, battling feature creep, debugging. 

During this period, you have to really, really want the thing you’re making, dreaming of how cool it will be, how much fun you’ll have playing it and telling everyone about it. 

Tom's FM radio-sequencing module project, in all its glory.

Building music gear is more multidisciplinary than you might imagine. The interface and the feel is as important as the functionality. My Euclidean sequencer is a cool-looking thing, with a big LED matrix. It’s really useful – turning trains of pulses into Afro-Latin rhythms. But it’s fiddly and annoying to use. The FM Radio module could be 50% smaller – and size is important in any modular synth – but this time I wanted good big knobs for fine tuning the signals and control voltages. 

So, as the project continues, you’ll spend time designing a front panel, deciding how many knobs you need, removing ones you’ll never use. And along the way, you’re learning. This time round, I wanted to get the control just right – precise, stable tuning so that stations would stay locked. That meant experimentation and [asking for help on the MuffWiggler forum]. I also spent ages reading ham radio sites, trying to work out how to make a voltage-controlled Shortwave radio (I gave up). 
Eventually, the lacquer is dry on the panel, the parts are all in, debugging is complete and the module is working. The result: either elation and fun, or almost immediate maker’s remorse. It’s bad enough spending money on a piece of music gear that you never love. It’s really annoying spending time building one that you can’t then flip on eBay. 

So far, this FM module is pure fun, an injection of random audio in the heart of the system. Every time I turn it on, something else comes out – pirate dubstep stations, Turkish music, news reports and Bryan Adams. You can filter it, sequence it, use it as a noise source, or let it modulate oscillators or open filters. Listen:

Radio sequencer 2 by MusicThing

Photos of the module:

Reading List

Great online resources for learning about modular synths and the first golden age of experimental electronic music include: 

Ubuweb’s electronic music resources section 
Also at Ubuweb, several editions of Electronic Music Review, a beautifully-designed but short-lived journal boasting Robert Moog as Technical Editor. 

The Red Bull Music Academy includes long, detailed interviews with Don Buchla, Tom Oberheim, Peter Zinovieff of EMS, Robert Moog and Morton Subotnik.

Synapse magazine was a mid-70s journal of electronic music, where you’d find DIY projects from people like Serge Tcherepnin

Vasulka is a huge and rather poorly-organised archive of documents, interviews and transcripts, containing some gems.

Source Magazine was, back in California in 1967, a plush avant-garde journal. Many editions came with 10″ vinyl records, pages printed on transparencies or fur. John Cage was a guest editor, and the magazine carried experimental scores from composers like Steve Reich. Original copies sell for $500+, but the articles and scores have been collected in a book: 
Source: Music of the Avant-garde, 1966-1973 [Amazon]

What’s Next?

Tom is already on to the next build since he finished up the radio sequencer. This time, it’s a shift register sequencer. A what?

A 16-step random sequencer, something between the Wiard Noise Ring, the CGS Gated Comparator and Nav’s BITSY.

It takes random noise to fill up 4 x 4 step 4015 shift registers, shifted by a clock input. The shift registers are looped – either after 8 or 16 steps. 8 of the steps are fed into a DAC0800 analog/digital converter, which produces a 0-8 volt output.

See also the prototype:

“Folk music of the 21st Century” – radio broadcaster, jazz aficionado, and jazz-based Ableton Live instrumentalist / remix artist Nick Francis really sums up what this whole site is about. As he chops up jazz greats in Ableton, his mash-up music chops are as much musical analysis as they are performance. He walks through his controller moves in a pedagogical way, highlighting the meat of the jazz legends he puts into play. It’s a kind of digital transcription, transcribing re-imagined for Ableton’s colored blocks in place of.

Of course, you’ll only be able to reflect on this once you can take your eyes off that stunning wooden controller, which has the look of a decades-old instrument. Kraftwerk in their early days would have chuckled at the polished-wooden nostalgia, but here, it’s about care as much as memory – and Nick is a fan of Kraftwerk, DJ Shadow, and others. None other than Matt Moldover inspired all of this. (I look forward to catching up with Matt in California next month.)

We first saw Nick in May:
A Controller Love Supreme: Beautifully-Crafted Wooden Jazz Controller with Ableton Live [tons more detail there]

Our friends over at Dubspot have an extensive, illustrated video series on interviews. You can tell they didn’t have to edit too much here, that Nick just kept talking and saying great things.

The Choppertone: Custom MIDI Controller for Ableton Live – Nick Francis Video Interview [Dubspot Blog]

But seeing electronic music with Nick’s self-described “vintage fetish” – from the RCA-chic swirled woodgrain to the great old standards – is a joy. And if you can’t get enough of Nick, you can go listen to his radio show, too.

Quiet Music
Nick Francis @ KPLU (Seattle)

Flip that YouTube into 720p to hear the sound properly – yes, even in this modern age, the default setting is a bit lacking in warmth.

There’s also a second part of the video with a performance of “Canto de Wonderwall.” (Not visible in Germany due to licensing issues.)

Click here to view the embedded video.

Any one of us, myself included, may break at any moment into armchair analysis of the music scene. But it’s worth asking an expert. Taste-setting, deeply influential DJs Pete Tong and Gilles Peterson of BBC Radio 1 recently stopped by National Public Radio’s thoughtful music program, All Songs Considered. Joining the American hosts, the BBC stars play favorite tracks and weigh in on the connections in electronica and club music in the US and the UK. The timing was appropriate: with DEMF taking over Detroit, that same world scene was returning to the cradle of the techno genre. But the message might surprise you: according to Tong and Peterson, the US is in a full-blown dance resurgence. It’s about time.

This isn’t the first time England has exported back to America tastes America helped define. Just ask the Beatles, who were able to market folk and country traditions, Everly Brothers harmonies and practicing guitar licks, more successfully than American artists had been in their own country.

Imagine what is possible now. Today, you can almost certainly have an easier time tuning into BBC Radio 1 from anywhere on Earth than you can a terrestrial radio station just a few miles away. Electronic dance music, while it may draw its roots from the likes of Juan Atkins and Frankie Knuckles in Detroit and Chicago, is arguably a hybrid, global and transnational by definition, and both American continents alongside Europe, Africa, and Asia, continue to forge its style.

All of this makes it more noteworthy that Tong and Peterson are finding the US increasingly fertile ground. Outside the over-saturated UK, BBC Radio 1 DJs are doubly superstars. These Radio 1 legends report that the act of gigging in the US – fueled by demand in the unfairly-dubbed “flyover states” – is better than ever, and even better than anywhere else. (Where but the US, they say, can you do a 7-day-a-week tour?)

In just those places, people are rediscovering classics like Lil’ Louis’ “French Kiss.” And in turn, those records may come to mean something new and refreshed, transported into new contexts.

In making their argument, and tracing some exemplary records, these two also make a case for a dance music more informed by tradition than flavor-of-the-month trend. It’s fitting that older records are finding new audiences, or that new styles are more conscious of their antecedents. The program also offers some perspective on English club culture, and without hopping on a soapbox, suggest the US may have paid a cultural cost for societal squeamishness about difference and homosexuality. Beyond what gets gigs or prompts dancing in the club, that suggests a grander societal significance to all these great records.

But Americans looking for some hope, I think the message of this recording is as clear as the title of the last song: “Coming Home.”

Let’s turn it over to Flying Lotus…

It’d be unfair to allow the UK side to monopolize this conversation, so let’s look at one of the US artists who has helped lead the US dance resurgence. Flying Lotus, himself popularized by BBC Radio 1, has been a tremendous force in supporting the blossoming scene around Los Angeles.

I think he can say as much musically as any other way, so take a listen to his recent podcast for Stones Throw records. Pulling some surprising cuts into the mix, he spins a dreamy, future-retro, soulful-spectacular world. As out of a parallel analog reality, warm and fuzzy vinyl crackles through a gauze-covered lens, but paints a futuristic landscape.

Perhaps Steve Ellison was assembling this deliciously-curated wonderland in a trance, because there’s absolutely no track list. (I’m holding out hope that maybe he’ll reveal their provenance; we’ll see.)

But a future portal opened by the past, steeped in soul and jazz, seems just the kind of universe that could give electronic dance music a second renaissance. So, I’ll best shut up at this point and let you listen.

Good listening

Hear the whole NPR program, and find additional commentary and track selections:

Pete Tong And Gilles Peterson On Dance Music, UK And American Style [NPR Music: All Songs Considered]

This Week On All Songs Considered: America In The Grips Of Dance Fever [All Songs Considered Blog]

And be sure to subscribe to Stones Throw’s podcast, picking up episode 66 for Flying Lotus:

More FlyLo — a full live set, also via NPR Music:
Sasquatch 2011: Flying Lotus, Live In Concert

Tired of top 40 hits? Pooped on podcasts? Sapped on streams?

What if your radio could generative music that was never-before — and never-again — heard, all from dynamic, algorithmic software?

PatchWork Radio does that with Pd patches. It’s not a new idea, but the radio station here, at least, is modular – not just one patch but any number of patches can be transformed into radio, thanks to some Python scripting. Creator David Guy John notes:

I’ve recently just started up an internet radio station using PureData to stream generative music. The system will load and unload randomly chosen PD patches, synthesize all the audio in real time and then stream the results out.

You can listen to the stream at http://radio.rumblesan.com and more info is available at http://www.rumblesan.com/?p=265

I’m hoping to try and recruit some help to build patches for it as it’s a bit of a daunting task to do just on my own so if you could let people know about it I’d be really grateful.

So, who’s in – does this generate (ahem) some interest or ideas, and might you want to contribute?

It seems fitting that the kind of musical worlds imagined by artists like Brian Eno now can be deployed anywhere in the world, not just generated in one iteration, but in endlessly-transformable versions.

(But can you dance to it?)

Same as it ever was:

With talk of the cloud, streams, special proprietary devices that pipe vendor-specific sounds to particular home stereos, intelligent, always-on access to entire music collections, tablets and set-top boxes and … all of that … it can be tough to look into the future of music and audio. I spent the last weekend at Project Bar-B-Q, a mind-bending retreat of audio tech industry sages and engineers, on a team that looked at the issue. It’s not time yet to share those discussions, but as we face the dizzying array of possibilities ahead, this one quote stands out, pointed to me by someone in my BBQ group.

The article is from June, but as “cloud music” talk heats up, it’s worth pasting to your wall. The ever-insightful Sasha Frere-Jones writes for The New Yorker

…the near future of listening to music looks a lot like 1960. People will listen, for free, to music that comes out of a stationary box that sits indoors. They’ll listen to music that comes from an object that fits in the hand, and they’ll listen to music in the car.

Full story: You, the D.J.: Online music moves to the cloud.

I think a corollary is that, even with the big box playing music for free, people will want to own a collection of music and own things they take around with them, alongside the free things. Exactly where that line falls and in what way remains the sticking point.

But why stop at music listening, or even music creation? The idea above could lend perspective to any conversation about design and technology. The dimensions of the virtual, digital universe and its possibilities are indeterminate and difficult to conceive. But the dimensions of human beings are not.

I look at my Android phone and iPod touch and see something that rests comfortably in the palm of my hand. Keyboards and pianos sit before me at waist height and stretch within reach of my arms. The netbook to which I’ve just taken a strong liking I notice is the near exact size and weight of one of my favorite paper sketchbooks from a few years ago. It folds under my arm. (The dimensions of an airline coach row are applicable here, too, but one could think of those as the economic extensions of how closely you can pack humans and still get them to buy tickets.) The iPad, embraced recently by musicians, is sized to a music stand and could easily replicate manuscript paper, which in turn could be the net of multiplying staves sized to human hands and handwritten dexterity. The ubiquitous knob may be just an endcap on the electrically-convenient potentiometer, but it’s also a physical manifestation of the fact that human beings have opposable thumbs. The grip of your hand is, literally, the reason we talk about “tweaking.”

It’s not just a matter of ergonomics, though if design causes discomfort or you can’t see a user interface, that obviously matters. Human scale is part of what allows us to grow emotionally attached to certain things.

And it should also be apparent that while the tech headlines and reporting focus on platforms or vendors — Apple! iPhone! Cable TV box! BMW car stereo! — humans, quietly, keep using objects that are fundamentally more or less the same. The rest is just a bit of icing. It makes you wonder why we don’t ask the fundamental questions first and worry about the details later, instead of the other way around. That would bring some humanity, sanity, and a longer view to technological discussions. (A shock, I know.)

Think in human terms, and sometimes design answers or the future of music are within arm’s reach. Just ask an accordion.

I have no problem with copyrighting music. So I’ll be blunt: my ongoing impression of Creative Commons licensing is that you should either choose a license that allows for commercial use, or opt for traditional copyright and licensing. The popular “non-commercial” restriction is problematic. It does too little to prevent exploitation, and too much to prevent exactly the kind of use that’s the reason you’d choose CC in the first place. That’s not an effective compromise; it’s more like a lose-lose scenario. If you really want people to ask permission to use your work, you can use a standard copyright. (You don’t even have to do anything, under US law.)

Latest case in point: the CBC.

An off-hand comment on the (excellent, by the way) Spark podcast suggested that management had instructed producers to stop using Creative Commons-licensed music. After a blog post by Michael Geist, the story has spread around an angered blogosphere. Some even interpreted a later comment to mean the whole thing was the work of CC opponents, through licensing deals that explicitly forbade CC. (Don’t get excited yet – it seems clear that’s not what happened, and those organizations wouldn’t be able to do that even if they wanted.)

Let’s skip straight to the point. Techdirt’s Mike Masnick got the bottom line of this one, which is that CBC eventually gave up on CC-licensed works because of the prominence of non-commercial restrictions. They note this comment from CBC’s Chris Boyce:

The issue with our use of Creative Commons music is that a lot of our content is readily available on a multitude of platforms, some of which are deemed to be “commercial” in nature (e.g. streaming with pre-roll ads, or pay for download on iTunes) and currently the vast majority of the music available under a Creative Commons license prohibits commercial use.

In order to ensure that we continue to be in line with current Canadian copyright laws, and given the lack of a wide range of music that has a Creative Commons license allowing for commercial use, we made a decision to use music from our production library in our podcasts as this music has the proper usage rights attached.

That seems to me to sum up the story: whatever the wisdom of CBC’s solution, this is a failure of the non-commercial restriction. And that should hardly come as news to anyone who has followed the problems with “NC.” It’s a Saturday, so consider this a hastily-devised rant rather than a fully-researched story. But I’d like to see a more productive conversation start on this whole issue, so I’ll kick it off by sharing my own thoughts on this.

Here’s the problem. The whole idea of Creative Commons licensing is to provide a blanket license before someone has to ask permission. By streamlining the process in this way, the goal is to get wider distribution and reuse of your work. And as everything from samples to Flickr images can demonstrate, it works. Now, naturally, wide distribution will also raise fears about commercial exploitation, and as with any license, you’re the owner – you can provide whatever restrictions you like. People want to share, but they don’t want that sharing to be abused. I think the impulse to look for some sort of “some rights reserved” is a natural one. Unfortunately, using non-commercial restrictions as the solution can create more problems. The non-commercial rules are vaguely worded, implying a very broad definition. It’s never properly defined, and no one really knows what it means. The net result is that works with the restriction attached aren’t free for use. You have to err on the side of caution; if you think there’s any chance you may be violating the license, you shouldn’t use the work.

That’s the crossroads I reached on this very site. Chris Randall of Audio Damage and Analog Industries, who has released a significant amount of CC-licensed music, pointed out to me that CDM was blatantly violating the intent of the non-commercial restriction. Sure enough, I came to the same conclusion, as a survey undertaken by the CC folks found that many of the people using the non-commercial restriction considered use on a site with advertising revenue to be commercial use. CDM readers and Flickr users protested. But it doesn’t matter: I now almost exclusively use works without it, to be safe.

There is more to this story, though.

CBC ought to be able to use CC music. CBC is clearly overreacting if they’re avoiding all CC-licensed work. There is work out there that lacks the non-commercial use restriction.

…but the onus falls on CC advocates to face the non-commercial problem head-on. It seems to me that it’s the responsibility of the CC-using community here to point to work that lacks this restriction, and to build tools that make those works easier to find. (The checkbox pictured here is a great place to start.) It’s also about time to have a serious discussion of the non-commercial restriction, not just in the definition itself but, holistically, why people do want to reserve “some rights,” and how to define those rights. That conversation should be a frank and open one. Commercial exploitation is a real threat. It’s an issue brought up by CC users, by CC advocates, and CC critics alike. It’s something obviously all of us are thinking about. But we should separate the three dimensions of it:

1. A hypothetical problem — the potential exploitation of work in ways that CC users don’t like. (And that means we have to determine what kind of hypothetical exploitation has people scared.)

2. A real-world problem. (There have certainly been instances of what people might consider exploitation, both of copyrighted and CC-licensed works.)

3. A number of potential remedies — of which adding a “non-commercial” CC license is only one, and possibly not even an ample remedy for the kind of exploitation people want to prevent.

Some of the blame I think does fall on CC the organization. They used the non-commercial clause as a way to say, “hey, you can distribute your work for free and get paid by requiring licensing.” You can have your cake and eat it, too — or you can give away your cake, but also sell it. The realities of making that work are much messier than they admitted, and at the same time the organization sent mixed messages. “Here’s the non-commercial clause, which is a remedy to this problem you’re worried about. Oh, but we don’t think you should use it. And actually, we don’t know what it means, so we’ll have to do a research study.”

It’s time to clean up that mess and remedy the problem.

CC users should consider Share Alike. This is a much, much longer conversation, so let me simply quote the plain-English description of Creative Commons’ Share Alike principle:

If you alter, transform, or build upon this work, you may distribute the resulting work only under the same or similar license to this one.

Unlike the description of non-commercial – there’s never actually a detailed description of what constitutes “commercial” use — Share Alike is very clear. Anyone using your work must license whatever work they make.

Yes, this is an issue for open-source hardware, too. I won’t go there today, because hardware incorporates other issues. It’s tangible, and that means legal licensing is different. The problems of interpreting the definition of “commercial,” however, remain, and there’s a threat that open source hardware makers will recreate some of the problems with Creative Commons-licensed media in the hardware domain by modeling their work on the same license. Consider the can of worms opened, but I’ll deal with that in a separate story.

The podcast’s great.

Anyway, go listen to Spark. It’s a fantastic podcast:
Spark October 3-6

And CC or not, speaking as a journalist here: if you want your music shared, send it to media outlets with an explicit license, CC or otherwise, making it clear they can use it however they wish. If publicity is valuable to you, it may be a worthy investment. (I’ve seen what publicists and PR people charge. “Free” publicity isn’t worth zero; that’s for sure.)

Thanks to Myles Ashley Borins for the tip!

Update – for our Canadian readers:
If you’d like to clarify the CBC’s policy, podcaster and producer Lily Mills tells me via Twitter that Canadian citizens and journalists can submit a formal request for information under Canadian law:
Access to Information Act

(CDM, as a US publication, is unable to do so.) If someone would like to volunteer to do so, shout out in comments. I think it would be useful to know the formal policy and reasoning from CBC.

Mary Anne Hobbs has announced that she is leaving BBC Radio 1 after fourteen years to pursue other work. It’s a changing of the guard at one of the world’s major musical beacons. In her tenure as a DJ for the Beeb, Hobbs famously helped fuel the explosive rise of the dubstep genre. Notably, she also became a champion of many American artists, shining a light on artists like Flying Lotus. (Leave it to the British to appreciate the significance of American popular music more than Americans – ask The Beatles.) And on a radio station known mostly for charting the top of the pops, Hobbs’ “experimental” show was been a cultural highlight. The show will continue through September 9.

It seems that after a decade and a half, Hobbs is leaving the station on good terms. And she’s going on to teach. Here’s the statement from her MySpace site:

Yesterday i resigned from BBC Radio1, after an amazing multi-dimensional 14 year career.

The great freedoms the BBC have given in me as a broadcaster, have allowed me to help break so many confrontational artists as diverse as Slipknot and Skream, and of course, the whole genre of Dubstep in recent times.

My current Experimental show is in peak condition, it’s never been stronger. And although it’s a very emotional decision to leave the show that I love so much, it’s also an optimum moment to bow out, at the very top of my game.

My work for Radio1 on the Breezeblock, Rock Show, many fascinating documentaries about everything from David Bowie to Dubstep, on daytime, at festivals and award ceremonies, has been exceptionally rewarding. These have been glory days not just for me, but for all the artists who have shared my BBC platform, and of course, the listeners everywhere from Beijing to Berlin, Baltimore to Blackpool, who shared a great passion for future sound.

I will continue to DJ live, work in film, and curate at Sonar festival in Barcelona.

I have also accepted a new job mentoring and teaching students at the University of Sheffield’s Union Of Students radio station, TV station and the newspaper that operate out of their superb Forge Media Hub, which presents me with a really exciting new challenge.

My last show on BBC Radio1 will be broadcast:
September 8th>>9th … Wednesday night >> Thursday morning… 2-4am
www.bbc.co.uk/radio1/maryannehobbs

Thank you so much for listening..

I think we need to organize a listening party for the last show. To Ms. Hobbs, best of luck with your new endeavors. And I know while your listeners will miss you on the airwaves, we’ll continue to enjoy your other appearances and live sets.

http://www.myspace.com/maryannehobbs

It’s oft-repeated conventional wisdom: the Internet democratizes access to music, opening up the possibility of hearing anything by anyone from anywhere. But just added more choices doesn’t necessarily help you connect with music that’s meaningful.

In my inbox today, here’s this deceptively-simple question from Mike Mogensen:
“Do you know any good Internet radio stations that stream electronic music? I’d like to expand my sonic horizon a bit and get some inspiration.”

I expect there could be quite a lot of answers there, especially since “electronic” music could mean any range of work from experimental to techno. Please feel free to promote your own radio, but also let us know – what are the streams to which you’re really addicted?

Also, while they aren’t exactly streams, I’ve gotten a lot out of podcasts and downloadable sets, perhaps more so than live streams. The podcasts from our friends at XLR8R have had some gems, and lately I’ve been addicted to the nicely-curated sets at Percussion Lab. (More on them soon.) On the other hand, there’s something about live streams. So, however you define this question, let’s hear what you think — and perhaps best stream, best podcast/download belong on our best music of the year list, too.

It may be 2009, but you can still play electronic music as though you’re an invading alien visitor from the future. Just ask The Sonic Manipulator, an electronic musical performer and inventor, alias Claude Woodward. His musical creations range from warped radios to instruments derived from turntable scratches and Theremins. And then there are some instruments that seem to be sonic weapons. (Apologies to recent protesters in Pittsburgh.)

CDM reader Andrew Cordani caught Claude at the UK’s British Invention Show. Claude is apparently a Perth, Australia transplant, by way of Cambridge, though Andrew writes that he “has been known to travel about a bit (Mars, Venus, Jupiter, Alpha Centauri, Epsilon Indi, Teegarden’s star and further).”

Andrew describes Claude’s other creations:

Met at the British Invention Show (http://www.britishinventionshow.com/show/index.html), at Alexandra Palace (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexandra_Palace)
(Organized by [MP3 player inventor] Kane Kramer – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kane_Kramer)

http://www.youtube.com/user/sonicmanipulator

http://www.sonicmanipulator.com/

http://www.sonicmanipulator.com/Inventions.htm

The Claude-a-tron – a sort of pre-wireless (i.e. wired) Theremin – and is “Way cool”

The Radiolian a lot of fun – Essentially triggerable (pre-recorded) radio samples – Used to switch-between radio programs (reminds me of http://www.neave.com/television/ )

The Greet-o-metre + The Transatron should be given out to all travellers, interstellar or not!

(My fave was the Rap Rod – which does for scratching what CDs did for vinyl. The Bash-a-tron was a close second, though)

Definitely check the Sonic Manipulator site for many, many more bizarre creations if the one at top doesn’t impress you. See a couple of my faves at bottom.

Fans of DIY, the whole event sounds fantastic! Thanks, Andrew, who can be found here (with his own futuristic creations):
http://midisticks.ltd.uk/

The Music Bore – Video 2 from Nicholas Humfrey on Vimeo.

“I’m sorry, Dave, I can’t allow you to listen to Coldplay.”

What would radio be like if playlists were not only robotic, but had robot DJs pulling information from the Interwebs dynamically? That’s the question asked by the winning team at London’s Music Hackday last weekend, which created an epic mashup of data sources to produce a voice-synthesized IRC chatbot that researches and plays music for you.

Music Bore

Music Bore was just one of a number of projects developed in the weekend of musical hacking, some for listening, and at least one (a fantastic and free synth plug-in) for what we really like – production. With some of the world’s top musical coders in attendance, the results were amazing, even if not all projects were entirely finished. (Hey, that’s why they call it hacking.)

You can check out the full list on the wiki, but here are some favorites — and if you were there, do shout out to us as you put more documentation up of the event and projects.

Harmony Box by Dave and Mike is a synth plug-in for Mac (AU/VST) and Windows (VST, thus also Linux) that quickly creates lovely chords. I love the simplicity of the instrument – really lovely work, gents – and I think I may actually use it on a project. They accept donations if you’d like to see this instrument mature. Of course, with everyone else doing Web mash-ups, this didn’t win, but it’s more up our alley. (Web 2.0 – meh, whatever.)

The synth has its own project blog:
http://davenoise.com/blog/

Other winners (in our book, and as recommended by Harmony Box co-creator Dave Gamble):

LonelyHarps by Jamie Hollingworth and David Padbury is a Last.fm-based tool concept that helps you find dates – and choose the right tracks to set the mood – using music for compatibility. And, really, do you really want to date someone who doesn’t have musically compatible tastes? (I’m sure it’s just because they spotted lots of hotties on Last.fm, but…) The only bad news: the app didn’t actually get fully made yet, but we’ll stay tuned, gents. They do have impressive-looking formulas.

Music Zeitgeist by Cristiano Betta visualizes lyrics by decade, such as the 1980s, above. (Yeah, it was all about wanting and karma, the 80s.) Check out the project directly.

Theremag by Jono Cole and Jonty Wareing of Last.fm is actually the app I most want to see, but there’s no documentation yet. It’s a Theremin emulator on the Google Android-based HTC G1, with an unusual sensor — the built-in magnetometer (the one that normally acts as the compass) which was used to pitch-bend Michael Jackson. Once they get documentation up, expect to see it here. (I love that magnet sensor, too. Good fun.)

iPhone Music Visualizer by George J Cook and Matt Biddulph grabs Soundcloud files, analyzes them with Echonest (which recently got an iPhone-friendly Cocoa API), and then plays them back with a visualizer. It looks like a great place to get started if you’re planning on building something similar yourself.

In fact, it’s well worth checking out the wiki not only because some of the projects have (okay, sometimes-sloppy) source code, but point you at the resources you’d need to tackle something like this yourself if you’re a coder. And the event prompted a lot of folks from Last.fm to Echonest and BBC and others to get their APIs together.

It’s a terrific idea, and it sounds like we need another music hackday here. (Press releases, ahem, claimed this was the “first” music hackday, even though we’ve done a global event ourselves, but who cares — let’s do more!)

New York would make a nice base of operations for a similar event because a lot of folks with interesting APIs are here (or in nearby East Coast towns), but I think it’d be great to get more people online and not just in one locale.

What think you, sirs and madames? Tips on how we could make an online event work?