I resonate with INTENSE emotions and art we can use to feel those emotions. Ferran Brooks let me know he used my piano piece, "Stark Arcadia" from Holidium, in "Cosas que no me atreví a decirte" (roughly, "Things that I dared not to tell you"), a audiovisual creation/short film he entered with collaborators into the Jameson Notodo Filmfest… and is a finalist!

Even though the festival is in Castellano (that's Spanish), there isn't dialog in this film… it just grips you trying to figure out what's happening. A very universal situation, perhaps:

Isn't that gorgeous cinematicism? You can see more of Ferran's work at Vimeo and Dailymotion.

One of my fave things about having music out there is connecting with creative, passionate people who explore other mediums… even across languages, worlds, human truths shine through. Ferran's emails were so packed with energy, so I'm delighted to see this.

A lot my piano music is Creative Commons so if you make short films, what are you waiting for? :)

{ 0 comments }

024 – Pianodrones

2010-03-12

Docking had proved socially unpopular. All those poor little pups without their tails. Thankfully, it's not quite so traumatic for music. Before cooking, clip off a nice batch of reverb tail and let it freshly decay in a bowl of sonic seasonings.

The loop will come again… wait… there it is!

Even an hour in reverse is enough to be creative.

We'd like to stand on the shoulders of giants. Some of us jump and get power-ups.

I can imagine the old teacher now, going, "What have you done with my piano?" But it never was just hers. When you teach someone, you hold yourself accountable to being open to what they might do that you never foreseen foresaw.

Crackles. Brusque. Clacking in rhythm, lending a sense of momentum.

Finality. Change, a process. (And beauty?)

<a onclick="javascript:pageTracker._trackPageview('/outgoing/music.torley.com/track/024-pianodrones');" href="http://music.torley.com/track/024-pianodrones">024 &#8211; Pianodrones by Torley</a>

From the Dream Journal

{ 0 comments }

As an artist, it's natural for me to want to focus on what's new and what I've recently done: but that doesn't diminish the existence of what came before, especially because it helped me grow into who I am today.

<a onclick="javascript:pageTracker._trackPageview('/outgoing/music.torley.com/album/8-tracks');" href="http://music.torley.com/album/8-tracks">Slow-Motion Sensuality by Torley</a>

8 Tracks is an imaginative collection of 8 tracks (hm…) which I composed in 2002. Recording quality is muddy compared to what I can do today, but the personality still shines through. Some have never been released publicly before! You can download 8 Tracks for free, and if it makes you feel happy, make a donation so more watermelon children can grow. I thank you!

About these 8 Tracks

  1. Slow-Motion Sensuality – This started out as a riff on Enigma's "Callas Went Away", one of Cretu's lesser-known-yet-most-enchanting tracks. Aside from Fifth Element and crossovers like Emma Shapplin, there haven't been that many compelling musics combining opera and techno. As often is the case, I wasn't going for reality, but surreality, and I'm really pleased with how the piano melody and creepy children laughing turned out. And oh, the water. To this day I love wet samples!
  2. Seafoam Spacewalk – If anyone gets the reference in this without me telling, I'M SO PROUD OF YOU. I tend to be several steps removed that way, and I had then watched Scary Movie with my brother. You know where that part where Anna Faris says how much she wants to walk on the moon? That's where the idea came from. There's a wormy lead that was transmogrified from 90s gangsta hip-hop. As I continue to say, inspiration can come from anywhere.
  3. In the Garden of Hopes+Dreams – I once wondered why it took certain music trends so long to cross over from Europe and Asia to America. This was borne from an era of post-Aqua, neo-DDR enthusiasm. I definitely went overboard on the "DANCING THROUGH FLOWERS!" factor. This is probably one of the happiest things I ever made, both in name and substance. The snapshot sound at the end would foreshadow my SL addiction two-odd years later.
  4. What Is Future Jazz? – I don't smoke, but I've always wanted to know what it's like. Not enough to try it, though. I had a visual of all these well-suited ladies and gentlemen in some secret jazz club, bigtime smokers whose utility would come through providing stage ambience. After all, smoke hides, it obscures, and if Lost is to be bereaved, it kills and transforms into people you know. I guess you could consider this drum 'n' bass? The Mellotron (which I dubbed the Smellotron due to the smoke) also shines. Or smells.
  5. Constant State of Revolution – Some of my music is inspired by communism and rampant totalitarian regimes. (Like "The Long March".) Maybe in an alternate reality I'm a musical minister of propaganda?  I'm the kind of person that grew up learning about Che Guevara from a NES game, so it was only unnatural that I would put these stompin' drums and "VIVA LA REVOLUCION!" crowd chants together. I'm especially delighted with how the triad guitar-ish melody turned out. Listening to this brings back memories of how many "whoosh" and transition noises get used throughout. There's so much progression here (maybe topped by "YOUphoria"?), it amazes me.
  6. Light & Sweetness – After a trip to Thailand, I listened to 2-step garidge nonsensically. That homage becomes blatantly sensible. A delicious melody tops a bouncy bed. The Bachy thing @ 3:13 is a precursor to the bizarre scale modes I still get into. There's no better way to introduce someone to weirdness than transition to it in the midst of comfort. (And what's with the continued water samples?)
  7. True Love Is Always Patient – One of my earlier works to take a Detroit techno bass/bass and drive it somewhere else it can't be stolen. This has a cinematic feel, and not just because of the movie projector sample. There's acid squelching, syncopated drums, lush string developments, and more water samples (!?). In some way, I wanted to take the overt nuances of SY-22 string lines and bring them into a sonicscape that changes up more. And check out how I worked in scribbling. Like writing love notes. That's the (pencil) point.
  8. YOUphoria – One more go at the opera, if country music would marry it. That part doesn't come in later, so it's all energy rushing until then. Big trancy riffs (godspeed), loads of ideas, and chords rapidly unfolding. I used to close my eyes and rock out to this with headphones, then jump up at the end with a "YESSSS!" That's another thing about me: I hardly use fade-outs, or simply stopping at the end of an 8-bar section — I'm big into climaxes!

And big big big thank-you to Ravenelle for the cover art that at once recalls classical painting, Americana, and horror movie posters. Get the joke? We're on a roll with the stylistic branding thing of people with animal heads. Yes, they're people too.

{ 5 comments }

If you have no idea what mastering is and why it matters, the tl;dr version: mastering makes music sound better. Some really clever audio geeks sharpen the dull parts, make the beats punchier, and usually raise the volume. A bunch of processes with names like "equalization", "dynamic compression", and "limiting" are involved and have been joined by newer trendy friends like "transient design". Mainstream awareness of mastering was greatly helped by the loudness wars, which goes to show too much of a good thing… is still too much.

Like I said, it takes smart people to do mastering well. For decades, it was a black art because  the mastering engineer was usually a different person than the musician. An artist in his/her (female mastering engineers, like DJs, are rare) own right, perhaps less appreciated.

Computer world

Now, with the omnipresence of computer recording technology, even folk musicians with acoustic guitars dabble with mastering. Which is good for all involved because musicians and listeners have a firsthand understanding of why it's so important, and brilliant mastering engineers can continue touting "Leave it to the pros!" while at the same time offering unique value (like vast experience which many musicians don't have time for, and an outside-but-intuitive opinion on "how this should sound").

Like how many careers have been remixed as new kinds of knowledge work gain prominence, many musicians, especially electronic ones (as they're predisposed to the tech-geekery), want to have more control over their end product. This isn't really different from marketing music yourself.

Master controller

As a result, within your audio workstation, you can have a "mastering chain" — a set of devices to polish your work — setup at the end. Some musicians like myself actually master while they mix (e.g., adjust track volumes and panning). In odd-but-increasingly-common cases like mine, there's no clear distinction between "mixing" and "mastering".  This sounds incredibly haphazard to "purists" who whimper when change bitchslaps them.

That's OK. Purists aren't adventurous, but you can be. You can always hire a veteran mastering engineer if doing it yourself isn't your bag.

The crippled masters

Let me tell you about where a disability set me free: I have hyperacusis, which is different than tinnitus (which I also have). This means I don't hear music as most people do, and my perception of the frequency range is messed up. Sometimes, the world around me sounds muffled and underwater. It's a chronic pain because I repeatedly have to ask my wife and other people to repeat what they're saying.

As a result, like how I've developed automation across the rest of my life, I've created a mastering system that effectively masters my tracks in a typical 5-20 seconds. It isn't AI, it isn't highly technical, it's simply customized for how I work and play in the studio. From feedback I'm getting for my Dream Journal (because as nice as "trust your ears" sounds, due to my perception I can't comply), I'm getting superb results. Mastering helps the melodies shine. I'd wager 95% of the results in less than 5% of the time. How's that for Pareto principle?

And yet, I feel conflicted. I miss having better hearing, but regrets ain't gonna change that, so I soldier on. Will I share my mastering method? I heart sharing a lot of knowledge. It's a future consideration for when my means has evolved to where it's good and stable enough for others to use. (I'd feel dirty in a bad way supporting it otherwise.) In addition, I have to feel rippleshock that another musician could really benefit from adapting how I do it because we're bonded, likeminded, resonate on the same wavelength, etc.

Even more importantly, there's the whole backstory behind how I got here after my first mastering experiments over a decade ago, and that's fundamental: I wouldn't tell just a part of the tale now, would I?

But if I had one line of advice: buy Bias Repli-Q. It's like a Braille translator for the hearing-impaired. They don't list that as a feature, but like how avatars can be our free bodies roaming in cyberspace, Repli-Q is my virtual ears. I even sent them a testimonial.

You braggart!

No. My point here is not to get all "DINOBOTS SUPERIOR". Quite the contrary. It's to show that yeah, even with physical defects, you can make awesome records (not literal records, but you get my drift). Sometimes, injuries block part of your life and you get used to them, then consider other possibilities. Other people can see the world in ways you can't, but the reverse is true. I've observe this from blind jazz trombonists to the nice people who told me, "Beethoven made great music when he was deaf!" and I said, "I'm not a genius like him."

But, you don't have to be Beethoven.

Just be you, making art that no one else does. That's why you do.

{ 0 comments }