Pan De Sonic \u2013 Iso<\/em>, the obvious difference being that Yamamoto was forced to appreciate such sounds while stuck at home during the pandemic, and Yorke is free to follow her joy.<\/p>\nThe project began in April 2024, when Yorke set out to chronicle her daily life in aural fashion, recording a mixtape every month (available by subscription). \u00a0The public releases represent the distillation of the process. \u00a0The fun is in hearing the little details, which serve as metaphors for appreciating the blessings of daily life. \u00a0At the start of Side A, the cat purrs as the birds sing; we suspect the cat is dreaming of said birds, feeling deep contentment. \u00a0It\u2019s not clear whether the modular synth is the score for the dream, or the field recordings are the score for the modular synth; the sounds are pleasantly conflated. \u00a0Should one listen with windows open, one may experience a Sensurround effect. \u00a0The world serenades Yorke; Yorke serenades the world.<\/p>\n
As recorded voices enter, one begins to recall The Orb, especially as Yorke\u2019s synthesizers are dipped in nostalgia. \u00a0\u201cThis is a story about a mouse,\u201d a narrator announces, leaving us wanting more; and if the cat were to hear this, the cat might be even more intent on the heart of the narrative. \u00a0When a pulse enters, a line is drawn to the classic mix CDs of the 90s and 00s. \u00a0Had Yorke been recording back then, she might have found her music on a shrink-wrapped CD affixed to a copy of Mixmag\u00a0<\/em>by a dollop of rubber cement.<\/p>\nYorke sings or burbles while placing ice cubes in a glass; she turns on the telly, but watches briefly. Outside, rain begins to fall, but the birds continue to sing; or are they on the TV? \u00a0One hears Yorke flitting between stations, then abandoning the telly for more entertaining cassettes. \u00a0All the while, she continues to create music, reflecting her impressions of the universe, even the universe within her flat. \u00a0The celebration of the 19th minute may be a birthday or the new year; one hopes that it is live. \u00a0There are pots and pans and snippets of song; someone is having fun, but this section sounds wistful as its genesis is unclear. \u00a0When everyone leaves (or the sound is turned off), Yorke is left to her music, producing a darker, dronelike segment. \u00a0The tonal contrast deepens the appreciation of the whole.<\/p>\n
Side B \u00a0begins in fun fashion: \u201cthose tusks must be almost two feet long!\u201d \u00a0Yorke slows and speeds the sample. \u00a0\u201cIt\u2019s a funny noise to make when you\u2019re wide awake!\u201d \u00a0A happy bird might dream of a sleeping cat, as a sleeping cat might dream of a nearby bird, but now everyone is awake and the music is happy again. \u00a0And then a sudden discovery, the spoken near-title of the CD, \u201ctime is just a succession of shapes.\u201d \u00a0Hearing these words on this tape, one starts to think of time differently, the shapes as sounds, the eternal represented by recurring sources such as weather and birds and the temporal by televisions and toasters. \u00a0The smoothing ingredient \u2013 the jam on the toast \u2013 is Yorke\u2019s music. \u00a0Sonic experiences are translated into moods, moods into music, music into new sounds that in turn affect the environments in which they are played.<\/p>\n
The center of Side B turns classically ambient, nearly orchestral. \u00a0The juxtaposition of strings and credit prompts gives way to a street scene: a conversation followed by a local brass player (or an external sound source), buzzing bees and a child\u2019s announcement. \u00a0The \u201cmusical interlude\u201d offers an impression of leaving one\u2019s house, encountering all manner of sonic surprises; and in response, onomatopoeia. \u00a0Soon listeners are back on familiar ground, the modular synth confident and calm, the mood changed once again, as it is wont to do over the course of a year. \u00a0Someone is vacuuming the year away, but the aural detritus remains: crumbs and glitter and moments and notes that in this mix become a scrapbook of sound. \u00a0Church bells ring; the old has gone, the new is come, the commonplace remains. \u00a0(Richard Allen)<\/strong><\/p>\n
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<\/a>While preparing to release her new album,\u00a0Time is a Succession of Such Shapes<\/em> (August 6),\u00a0Loula Yorke\u00a0<\/strong>has provided fans with a delicious first taste. \u00a0The Book of Commonplace\u00a0<\/em>is as personal as they come: a mixtape cassette, as if the artist has recorded it specifically for the recipient, plus if one is so fortunate to acquire it, a mini-zine, Polaroid photos and hand-pressed flowers. And this isn\u2019t just any\u00a0<\/em>mixtape, a collection of musical moments, but also a collection of intimate moments caught in passing: snippets of TV and radio talk, kitty contentment, twittering birds, and our favorite, \u201cjam on toast.\u201d \u00a0As it captures the sounds of everyday life, the mix recalls Ai Yamamoto\u2019s Pan De Sonic \u2013 Iso<\/em>, the obvious difference being that Yamamoto was forced to appreciate such sounds while stuck at home during the pandemic, and Yorke is free to follow her joy.<\/p>\n