‘The Soundtrack of Nonexistence’ Individual Song Breakdowns ____________________________________________________________ Individual Song Breakdowns Rather than the usual process of breaking down the record per sequence, I’m gonna try to operate by memory, by the order in which I worked. “Inhale Cog” Fittingly, this was the first tune that I completed. As with other releases within this second ‘mini-oeuvre loop,’ it begins where the previous record, Delectable Machinery II, ended. This entire piece was constructed with one sound clip: I was getting an oil change, and started voice-memo-ing when a big machine began loudly iterating. Inevitably, I also picked up other noises, as well as two voices over the intercom in the station. “Gotta Lock Your Doors” I had a few voice memos of one my dogs’ stomach churning and digesting. I took a portion of one of the clips and distorted/processed the hell out of it, then formed an electronic groove around a loop of it. Incorporated bass (I think this is the lowest I’ve ever tuned down), wrote a quick synth solo around the progression, then introduced another of the clips, it being more abrasive. This was a ton of fun to make, I was giggling like a kid at the textures my dog’s stomach had produced. This song reminds me of some of the ballsy, aggressive techno/electronica I’d listened to in the 90s. The ambience at the end is from a huge industrial fan in a parking garage; I used it a few times on TSoN. And the title was something my mother said in regards to potential burglaries in our neighborhood, “Ya gotta lock your doors!” “TerpsichoreanV” Here’s the first soundscape piece that I composed for the album. The title alludes to the kinda danceable nature of this electrifying (hardy har har) track. Months earlier, I was noodling on my bass at night and had reached a sort of spacey, meditative state. I was fingering the E string robustly, and slowly leaning the bass into the plastic armrest, which—when connecting and bouncing madly between the shortened space and the string—created a sharply metallic, interesting sound. I voice-memo-ed it. Later on, I imported the file, but also attempted to recreate the noise using my recording bass and a JMT Synth Noisy Mic. After time-editing the clips to a grid, I reversed the audio of both, and layered, panned and processed it all, which led to interesting artifacts and helped moved the thing along. The rest of the piece (springs, sandpaper groove, kalimba melodies) was realized with the excellent LeafAudio Microphonic Soundbox; the clunky sound is me dropping my keys on it. “Sucked Into the Dark” I guess this would be the first real ambient piece. I re-purposed a couple more voice memos to create the low, undulating bed of rumble. The higher, crystalline, floating melodies were from a synth app on my iPad. The ‘lead’ instrument here—or what I consider it to be—is my Yamaha SK10, highly processed as always. The leads were done very quickly; I distinctly remember having most of this track completed in one morning, just had to dig into mixing after. The ‘sucking’ noise is a refrigerator closing with the audio reversed. This track is every bit as haunting as ethereal, if not more. Really makes me feel like I’ve been abandoned in the nether regions of space. “Sprinkles of Divinity” Up until this point, I had basically created a song a day, or I’d at least get the bulk of it down. I’d iron out the finer details of mixing and further processing elements in subsequent sessions. But this one took a few days to develop - it was stubborn! The beginning riff is played via the Animoog app, and those little slides were deceptively tough to play on my iPad. The synth patch and melody remind me of something that’d inhabit a Howard Shore score/Cronenberg flick, for some reason. One sound effect that enters during the intro is from a display at a museum in Thessaloniki that featured mechanized magnets. The squawking, unpredictable ‘leads’ in both the intro and its reprise is a device called the Wired Heart. The middle section is pretty wild: it features the deepest vocal I’ve ever recorded, I believe there’s a D1 in there. The bird is from a voice memo that I took while in Australia on tour, at a wildlife park called Featherdale; I can’t recall the species of bird, forgive me. The bird didn’t require too much editing, it was pretty deep in the groove! “Knock, Knock…” This was the second soundscape piece. The progression was played on my Yamaha CS1x, with some breaths, and additional bleeps and bloops via the Model D app. The rest of the piece is rounded out by multiple passes/different sounds on the LeafAudio box. The ‘knock’ is my flicking one of the metal rods that attaches to the unit with my finger, and—of course—very much processed. “There’s a Guitar in My Hands and Nothing You Can Do About It” This became one of my favorites. The groove: kick/snare is the latch and other parts of the gate for my backyard fence; hi-hat is a malfunctioning sink in a hotel room on tour, which only blasted out water at a high rate of speed; the quirky upper melody pacing alongside are some birds that I caught in a voice memo just outside of my studio. I set out to make another soundscape, but once the groove was in place, I picked up my hollow-body Ibanez and came up with a juicy progression. This vision-shifting happened numerous times throughout making TSoN. After the progression, a bass synth ostinato (tracked via my Moog Rogue) appears, and then the lead instrument: my Vermona E-Piano, you guessed it - highly processed. Lyrics: Sucked into the dark Waiting for a spark “Jacklegs Bark” The opening looping groove is another bird from Featherdale, issuing a rather guttural sound, along with some bottles clanging together at a convenience store (from a field recording), and the punctual low-pitched sound is from me driving over a rumble strip while I had the field recorder armed (I did it on purpose). I played the keyboard lines on my Waldorf Blofeld and looped ‘em in Pro Tools. Some electronic-drum samples along with some of my own acoustic-drum samples comprise the rest of the groove. This was another instance of the song taking an unexpected turn, and following and trusting my intuition. Another instance of it taking more than one day to develop, as well. The second section is built on the groove from “Desideratum” from Ditties 4, time-stretched to a slower tempo. The synth line was played on my ancient Emibas bass synth. I composed an accompanying poem for this part. The segue contains another nicked groove (“Time’s Up”), followed by a latin-infused keyboard/synth solo section (some parts played, some programmed). I nearly titled this one “Prosopopoeia #1,” and the titular song #2. Lyrics: You enter a room You peer to the right, to the left Up and down You take a circuitous path because you do not prefer solace You crave challenge But eventually, this very path becomes a comfort; you struggle to struggle So, you reinvent your struggle Interpret what it means to take it easy Your drive has been endogenous for so long that you do not know from where it derives And yet, you have made little progress on your path Jacklegs bark; it’s all ad nauseam “Streaked Neon” By this time, I had invested in a proper field recorder. Although it doesn’t sound that much better than what I was using (iPhone 13 mini on lossless quality), the integrated-stereo recording is a welcome option to have, rather than digitally ‘stereoizing’ the voice memos. Anyway, I immediately put it to use, and this piece contains ambience from a restaurant, as well as me driving around in my car; you can hear my keys clanging around occasionally. The ‘lead’ is a preset on the Model D app, played with a MIDI controller for more octave/note choices. It’s fairly processed, but you may be able to pick it out from a lineup; the built-in portamento is an earmark of its sound. “6-5-25” ‘Fey’/Soundscape #3 was spurred along by my surprising discovery of a preset within Soundtoys’ PhaseMistress, which furnished a sound clip—the fan in the parking garage again—with an identifiable groove and progression. I built onto it with power tools, assorted digital noise, and a mandolin. The clang-y, industrial sound is a short edit from a train that I voice-memo-ed in Germany whilst on tour (I’ve also used this in a bunch of stuff, notably the bridge in “I Smile, Prima,” also from ‘Ditties 4’), probably utilizing Avid’s native Pitch II to make a melody. “Cloud Colossi Coolly Coasting” A lot to say about this one, being one of the longest cuts on the album. It begins with the same sounds that form the melody/progression (just time-stretched and reversed), which are overdubs of various notes on several harmonicas. The low, metronomic rumble that sounds like wind is actually wind! The more static-y, stereo-panned sound is some general ambience from outside, just highly processed (I believe I used the PhaseMistress trick again, to endow it with a pulse). And the big roar is the rumble strip again. I really enjoy how much space this track feels like it possesses. Maybe it’s due to the large melodic disparity between the rumbles and roars and the harmonicas and ambience. Whatever it is, it inspired the title, inducing visions of giant creatures walking the earth, nonchalantly piercing through clouds. I thought I’d come up with perhaps a more menacing title, but my proclivity for alliteration took hold. The middle section features a one-take ‘lead,’ a preset on the Model D which sounded already outlandish. I dialed this up even further by purchasing an app called Ribn, which is a MIDI controller that allows you to assign up to 8 ‘ribbons’ to 8 unique controllers on the corresponding synth app. You can then independently assign values to these ribbon controllers, both in intensity and timing, just by utilizing your finger - pretty slick stuff. Along with the preset, Ribn, and further processing, it produced a goddamn nightmarish sound - at least to my ears and sensibilities! There’s also a theremin which I tracked later on, in an effort to ramp up the intensity of this section. “Quaking Eudaemonia” Both synth bass sounds were sourced from my Waldorf Blofeld. Also featured is a butterfly that was voice-memo-ed on tour: it had caught itself between the window (it was open, so it could’ve escaped) and screen and was flailing its wings with voracious rapidity, and I just loved the din it was causing. The malfunctioning sink is here again, processed differently, as well as a highly obscure synth that I paid an extravagant amount of money for, the ST-50 by Suiko. I chanced upon it on YouTube one evening and instantly loved its sound, couldn’t help myself. After a series of melodies, the tune evolves into a froth of rain and distortion, with the very beginning of ‘Projects III’ poking through like a foggy sunbeam, thus completing the second ‘mini-oeuvre loop.’ The title here is a subtle nod to the superlative Quake OST, as it—along with Silent Hill 2—influenced this project, as well as the pervading sub-pulse. “Woeful Outlines of a Visionary’s Rendezvous,” “A Crumpled Rogue, Abysmally Sinking,” “The Protean Taxi,” and “Gliding to the End” I endeavored to write a few pieces to act as connective tissue between this and the aforementioned mini-oeuvre loop, drawing out chord progressions, melodies, whatever seemed most appealing. Since this was detail-oriented and specific, I used Guitar Pro to write these works, my usual compositional tool. Originally, I wanted to reformat and re-present any ingredients I chose in an ambient style, but the only piece that didn’t veer (too far) is “The Protean Taxi.” The others took on a more electronica influence, although “Gliding to the End” is mostly pretty chill. The titles are an allusion to the recombined elements of the songs, using different synonyms based on the titles. ‘Woeful’ is comprised of parts from ‘Projects III’: guitar chords from “Fantasist” and “Hell to All,” vocal melodies from “Tryst” and “Project 16,” and synths lines also from “Fantasist.” The drum improv starts with a non-improvised ride cymbal and hi-hat pattern for 4 bars, then breaks off. ‘Rogue’ is comprised of parts from ‘Midnight Acolyte’: chord progressions from “Nadir” and “Dog-ear,” and a vocal melody from the pre-chorus of “Blackguard.” The tempo slowly ramping up is exciting to me. ‘Taxi’ is comprised of parts from ‘Fall and Response’: the chorus chord progressions from “Catch a Ride” and “The Mercurial,” and the bass plays an identifiable vocal melody also from “The Mercurial.” And ‘Gliding’ is comprised of parts from the self-titled record: the choruses of “Denouement” and “Flying to Iceland.” I played drums when the “Denouement” progression comes back around, but didn’t record the snare - that’s a multi-layered sample. Lots of percussion overdubs. Once I had the twelve tunes listed above finished, I did all of the synth production for these additional four, tracked bass and percussion (I completed drum programming/processing at the beginning of the second writing session), and bounced out stems to start their respective mixing sessions. “AngelDemonBaby” The second chunk of writing started with this oddity. By now, I had collected a few more field recordings and synths/other miscellaneous toys. This features ambience from inside of a coffee shop. I picked up a few ornery outbursts from a child, which I drew out and processed. I had also processed another clip alongside—of some ‘deconstruction’ (trees being ripped out of the ground) happening just outside of my studio—with a resonator. It brought out some specific notes, which I further bolstered with an in-the-box synth. But the ‘lead’ in this is a synth by Suzuki, of all brands, called the Omnichord (OM-84). The ominous build-up that complements the outbursts is some field-recorded ambience taken from driving inside of a tunnel. “Acte Gratuit” I sat down with my santoor, intent on writing 3 or 4 parts around which to form a song. There’s some decent bass solos, and rad synth patches throughout. The middle section was difficult to play on the santoor; the alien-esque sound effects there are actually from a theremin, just tons of processing. 2:10 - 2:20 was improvised on the santoor. The outro features huge, acoustic-drum samples, programmed - I think there’s a layered septuplet in there on the double-kick. The outro was also not entirely planned. I just love the huge, treble-layered distorted bass stab to end it. “Opulent Peroration” This one features some of the coolest, wildest production. I wrote a strange chord progression by overdubbing my Moog Rogue, then added two tracks of crazy, random noise from presets (further processed, as always) on the Waldorf Nave app. Then, I came up with a melodic progression on the Otamatone; the way in which this was processed renders it sounding enormous, foreboding, and otherworldly. The Wired Heart is also mixed in there for more weirdness. The vocal that follows features the sequence from one of the main synth melodies in “The Opulence of Denial,” which probably isn’t obvious, thus the allusion in the title. “It Finally Speaks” Comprised of some outside ambience, this same clip utilized and processed three entirely different ways (including time-shifting and reversed audio); you can hear the bells on my backyard fence occasionally jingling, as well as a cough. The lead here is a guitar played with an EBow. I love the last 45 seconds of this, just thoroughly portentous. The “It” that “Speaks” at the end is a reversed-audio inhale scream (which I never do, because they are bad for you (disclaimer: I’m not an ENT)). “Crepuscular” This is another one of my favorites. Utterly spooky! Aside from the bass, and some rather deep vocals, most of the tracks are yet more birds (Featherdale, outside of my studio), processed in a multitude of ways. I almost titled this something comical like, “The Birds Are Pissed.” “Prosopopoeia” Bizarre and funky, this is another tune that took a few days to unfold. I played damn near every instrument that I credited myself with on this track alone, haha. More santoor exploration kicked it off; came up with a few riffs, and then set up my xylophone and noodled until I found a melody that mostly relies on the same scale. The intro and the segue to the outro both feature acoustic drums, played with brushes—not something that I do often, but highly enjoyable. I never would’ve imagined the main section coming together in the manner that it did: ‘trap’ beats, clean+spacey guitar, fancy slap bass, and an xylophone? Who woulda thunk it. Said bass is cobbled together from various licks, tracked separately. The vocal interlude was something that I threw together one morning. The middle section features a big drop of water hitting a bucket full of more water, a small snippet from what I caught with the field recorder (and used again in another tune). There are some gnarly growls, and a distorted electric piano sound from my Korg Wavestation app. The dialogue was thought of on the spot. There’s a wee bit of harmonica to close that part out, then it’s back to the main section with some santoor, a synth solo, and a more stripped-down bass part. Then, the vocal interlude, acting as an outro, with a beat that I tracked at my recording desk: the ‘kick’ is my right hand played on the desk with the meat of my palm, and the ‘snare’ is me slapping my chest. Lyrics: Quit your bellyachin’ and quit your pussyfootin’ Do the thing It ain’t gonna do itself I reckon that’s, uh, it’s an important thing So gimme a toothy smile and do it Quit your bellyachin’ and quit your pussyfootin’ I don’t wanna hear it! “(Intermittently) Subaqueous, Battling (Perhaps) Apparitions With Technology” The main ambience used in this is a clip from inside of my car during a trip to the bank, along with the same clip from “It Finally Speaks.” The lead throughout is a Bontempi B4 organ: it’s an electric, tabletop organ that has several ‘chord buttons’ and a 3-octave keyboard. Having access to only 3 octaves proved challenging for me, keeping the melodies and overall flow interesting. I had to do a few passes and pitch up/down a few notes. There is a fun, handy preset on the Avid Mod Delay plug-in that approximates an underwater texture, which was used on the master channel in two sections. After the first one, a tap on a coffee mug can be heard throughout the rest of the piece. The aforementioned clip of running water is also used in those sections, and the lead (more like ‘noise’) instruments change, they’re mostly synth apps. Beware of the laser battle at the end! “Binding, Binding, Binding” Desiring to put the xylophone to use one more time (hey, it was set up), I fumbled around until I found a sequence that I liked. This piece was played entirely sans click. Although the ambient tunes don’t adhere to a timekeeper or strict pace, this clearly has a pulse, but I wanted to keep it rubato to afford me liberties of tempo acceleration / deceleration. Then, I tracked bass. The last obscure piece of equipment that I purchased for this project was a Casio SK-1; it possesses a lo-fi, primitive sampling capability baked into its board. I exploited, er, used this in a pretty strange manner, sampling an open strum on my hollow-body Ibanez in standard tuning. But, then I played chords with the sample and further processed them once they were tracked in the session. Can you say texture? These chords highlighted different melodies/etc. from a few of the more electronic/driving pieces on the record. Once completing this task, it was manifest that the melodies weren’t so obvious, so I bounced stems of each of these parts from their respective mix sessions, and blended them with the Casio part. In order, the leads are: “Sprinkles of Divinity” (distorted keyboard melody), “Gotta Lock Your Doors” (part of the synth solo), “Acte Gratuit” (main santoor lick), “Prosopopoeia” (santoor melody in the main section’s reprise), “There’s a Guitar in My Hands and Nothing You Can Do About It” (first part of the synth solo), and “Quaking Eudaemonia” (one of the ST-50 melodies). The tentative title for this was “Connective Tissue,” for reasons that should now be clear. As stated above, the release of this record sees the conclusion of my second ‘mini-oeuvre loop’: Projects III, Midnight Acolyte, Fall and Response, Travis Orbin (This Is a Self-Titled Record), Delectable Machinery II, and The Soundtrack of Nonexistence. I hope that you derive as much joy from the music as I did making it. I am uncertain if I’ll embark on a ‘mini-oeuvre loop’ again. It’s a lot to wrap your head around, and admittedly, I made it up much of it as I went along rather than considering all six releases at its outset. At any rate, I think it’s a hell of an accomplishment, and there’s plenty more music on the horizon.

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