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Radio Lear

Radio Lear

著者： Radio Lear
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Welcome to Radio Lear, a captivating exploration of sound and thought that transcends conventional boundaries. In our unique way we invite you to embark on a unique journey curated by Max Sturm, a visionary artist and Creative Director. Discover the transformative power of sound as it intertwines with the principles of metamodernism, bridging the realms of art, technology, and human expression.Radio Lear アート エンターテインメント・舞台芸術 哲学 社会科学
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  • Listening Without Resolution

    Listening Without Resolution
    2026/07/15

    This mix moves through ambient suspension, fractured electronics, field recording, art rock and early machine music. Without spoken commentary, the connections between the tracks are carried by texture, rhythm, contrast and atmosphere. The listener is left to encounter the sequence directly, without being told what it means. That absence of explanation creates its own question: does music become more open when interpretation is withheld, or do we simply project more of ourselves into it?

    Memory as Material

    Many of these pieces treat memory not as a stable record, but as something fragmentary and continually revised. A sound can be preserved, sampled, rearranged or detached from its original setting. Once that happens, does it still belong to the past, or has it become part of the present?

    Some tracks seem to recover lost or obsolete materials. Others reopen earlier compositions and place them in new circumstances. The effect is not straightforward nostalgia. It is closer to excavation. What do older sounds still contain? Do they offer refuge from the present, or do they expose possibilities that the present has failed to realise?

    Natural and Artificial Sound

    The sequence repeatedly blurs the boundary between acoustic and electronic sources. Field recordings become composition. Instruments are processed until their origins are obscured. Synthetic sounds begin to feel organic. Machine rhythms take on warmth and irregularity.

    This raises a broader question about technology. Is technology always a distancing force, or can it deepen attention? Can a machine help reveal the atmosphere of a place, the texture of a memory or the emotional weight of a sound?

    The distinction may not be between nature and technology, but between technologies that accelerate experience and those that make closer listening possible.

    Inner and Outer Landscapes

    Several tracks suggest landscapes, but these are not simply geographical locations. They may be volcanic, urban, domestic, cosmic or imagined. They can feel vast and external, yet also strangely intimate. A garden can become a psychological space. A satellite can suggest isolation. A rhythm can return the listener to the body. A distant texture can feel like an internal memory.

    Where does a landscape end and an inner state begin? Is the listener entering the music, or is the music revealing something already present?

    Stillness and Propulsion

    The mix alternates between contemplation and movement. Some passages suspend time. Others compress it. Rhythms emerge, intensify and then dissolve back into atmosphere. Ambient music is often treated as passive, but stillness is not necessarily inactivity. It can sharpen perception. Equally, rhythm is not simply momentum. It can organise attention and restore physical presence.

    What kind of time does the music create? Is it linear, cyclical, remembered or suspended? And what changes when the body begins to respond before the mind has formed an interpretation?

    The sequence does not offer a single argument. Its tensions remain open: memory and invention, archive and loss, stillness and propulsion, intimacy and scale. The listener may hear anxiety in the damaged signals and obsolete technologies. But there is also renewal. Fragments are not merely preserved. They are made active again.

    Perhaps the central question is whether recovery means returning to what was, or making something new from what remains.

    Track Listing

    Billow Observatory – Colza
    Dialect – Full Serpent
    Discordant Ambiance – Satellites in the Stars
    Flying Lotus – CAPTAIN KERNEL
    Hideki Umezawa and Giuseppe Cordaro – III movimento
    Natasha Pirard – Buisson de mûres
    Oneohtrix Point Never – Measuring Ruins
    Peach – Batangas Beat
    Six Missing – A Dance
    Superpoze – Siècle
    Tycho – Source (Live Mix)
    Delphic – Submission
    Sakanaction – Inner World – Rearrange 2023
    Cluster – Hollywood
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    1 時間
  • The Kindness of Returning – A Weird Walk Through Songs That Carry Us Home

    The Kindness of Returning – A Weird Walk Through Songs That Carry Us Home
    2026/08/27
    Lift the Latch. A garden gate lifts, clicks, and swings. Boots meet a damp path. Somewhere nearby, a blackbird tries one clear phrase after the rain. That is where The Kindness of Returning begins: not at a monument, a haunted ruin, or a place marked on a tourist map, but at an ordinary threshold. The route in this podcast mix is an imagined sound-walk. It leads through rain and fields, towards open water, and eventually back to the garden. Its landmarks are songs. Many of those songs carry difficult things. There is parting, betrayal, grief, rural loss, and the pull between leaving home and staying put. There are old warnings and uncanny broadcasts. There are figures at the edge of the field and voices that seem to arrive from another time. Yet, this isn’t a journey into darkness for its own sake. We are listening for what shelters life inside these sounds: self-respect, endurance, friendship, curiosity, and the knowledge that weather changes. What If a Haunting Is Asking for Care? We often treat haunting as a threat. But a haunting can also be a form of unfinished attention. It may be a memory that has not found its proper resting place, a warning that still has something useful to say, or a fragment of the past waiting to be heard differently. Traditional songs are especially good at holding such things. They allow sorrow to take a recognisable shape. Once it has a melody and a human voice, it can be carried and shared. That does not make the pain picturesque, and it does not turn every inherited story into historical fact. It simply gives us a way to stay present without being overwhelmed. Anne Briggs opens the path with “The Snow It Melts the Soonest”, a Northumbrian song documented in the early nineteenth century. Its winter imagery frames pride, parting, and anticipated return. For this walk, the important movement is the thaw. Cold feeling is real, but it is not permanent. The wind begins to sing, and the landscape changes. Bert Jansch’s “Black Water Side” takes us to a more vulnerable meeting place. Beauty and hurt sit beside the same water. We do not need to romanticise betrayal to recognise the strength of the voice that survives it. Pentangle’s “Let No Man Steal Your Thyme” offers another kind of protection. The botanical symbolism belongs to a long family of warning songs, but its message still feels immediate: guard your time, trust your judgement, and do not let another person diminish what is growing in you. Strange Transmissions and Open Doors The electronic pieces alter the weather of the walk. Broadcast and the Focus Group build “The Be Colony” from voice, tape, rhythm, echo, and recovered fragments. It feels uncanny, but also playful. A collection of partial signals becomes a temporary commons. Broadcast’s “Lights Out” lets our eyes adjust rather than closing the world. Comus’s “The Herald” opens a long clearing in the undergrowth. Pye Corner Audio places a steady pulse beneath the clock, while the Advisory Circle’s “New Dimensions In” treats the passing seasons as an opening rather than a loss. These recordings do not reproduce the past. They rearrange its textures. Public-information voices, analogue electronics, acoustic instruments, and studio residue become material for new acts of imagination. Memory is not a sealed room. It has doors. The Shore, the Valley, and the Field At the water’s edge, June Tabor’s “The Great Selkie of Sule Skerry” brings a Northern Isles ballad of love across boundaries. The sea keeps its distance, but it also keeps moving. The song asks us to consider whether love can recognise difference without trying to erase it. Lal and Mike Waterson’s “The Scarecrow” stands in the seasonal field. This is not an ancient ritual preserved intact in song, but an enigmatic modern composition from Bright Phoebus. Its unsettling imagery has prompted many interpretations. Here, it becomes a question about care: who tends the crop, who is protected, and who is left exposed? Then New Model Army carry us through the rain-swept valleys of “Green and Grey”. The song understands that both leaving and staying have costs. It holds attachment to place alongside class, violence, ambition, and the lure of somewhere else. Belonging is not simple loyalty. Sometimes it is the difficult work of seeing a place clearly and still caring what happens there. Giving Grief Somewhere to Rest Towards the end of the walk, Shirley and Dolly Collins bring us to “The Unquiet Grave”. In the old ballad, excessive mourning disturbs the beloved’s rest. It is a stern image, but it also contains a gentle truth: grief needs a voice, and it needs permission to loosen its hold. Remembrance should not trap either the living or the dead. We pause, listen, and continue. The final path leads into “The Garden of Jane Delawney” by Trees. A garden is never finished. It is made through repeated acts of attention: watering, pruning, waiting, ...
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    1 時間 5 分
  • What Comes Back – The Space Between Passing and Beginning

    What Comes Back – The Space Between Passing and Beginning
    2026/08/27
    There is a moment when a tree lets go of a leaf. From where we stand, it looks like an ending. Yet beneath the surface, the next season is already being prepared. In this episode of Headspace from Radio Lear, the music asks a simple question: what becomes possible when we recognise that passing and beginning belong to the same cycle? This is not an invitation to pretend that every change is welcome. It is a chance to listen to the space between holding on and moving forward: the interval in which one form has loosened, while another has not yet fully appeared. What Can Be Gained When Something Passes? We often speak as though holding on is strength and letting go is defeat. We welcome the promise of a new beginning, but resist the disturbance that makes it possible. Growth, however, rarely arrives on an empty stage. It emerges through what has weathered, altered, completed its part, or made room for something else. That does not mean everything that disappears is neatly replaced. A cycle is not a guarantee that what passes will return in the same form. The branch remains bare for a while. The ground can look still. Some changes leave questions that cannot be quickly resolved. Yet stillness is not necessarily the absence of movement. Old material can become nourishment. An emptied space changes what can enter it. Even repetition is transformed by time: the person, place, or idea that returns has travelled. The tension, then, is not simply between loss and gain. It is between two movements that may need one another: releasing what cannot remain and becoming available to what has not yet taken shape. How the Music Moves The programme opens with slow ascent. Weight and lift are present together. In Brian Eno’s An Ending (Ascent), completion seems to contain its own horizon. The ending does not simply fall away; it opens into space. The sequence then becomes more physical. Bryan Senti’s Malecón suggests an edge where fixed ground meets moving water. Caroline Shaw and Sō Percussion’s A Gradual Dazzle builds through soft percussion, interlocking chords, and repeated beginnings. In her notes for the album, Shaw describes chords that pivot, rise, interlock, and restart. Renewal here is gradual and collaborative, not a single triumphant flash. Spiraling and Temporal Dryft complicate the idea of straightforward progress. A spiral returns, but never to precisely the same point. Drift may appear directionless, yet it still carries us somewhere. The music allows growth to be curved, patient, and partly unknowable. At the centre, Abandon Window and Or hold the opposites open. To leave a window might mean turning away from one view. It might also mean leaving an opening unguarded. The choice remains alive: departure or invitation, ending or beginning. What Comes Back Is Changed Ryuichi Sakamoto’s immersive version of andata begins the return. Its movement feels travelled rather than possessed. Then Shabason and Krgovich’s What Comes Back makes return itself the question. What comes back may carry memory, but it also arrives altered by time. This is the difference between a circle and a spiral. A circle suggests exact repetition; a spiral revisits familiar ground from another position. The closing tracks, Topaz and Ideas of Light, bring colour and illumination. Light does not erase the shadows that gave it shape. It makes edges, textures, and openings more visible. The sequence reaches brightness without forcing certainty. This matters because beginnings are often described as clean breaks. Lived time is rarely so tidy. An old commitment may continue to teach us after it has ended. A new idea may carry traces of what came before. Rest and growth can occupy the same day. The Space Between Seasons The opposites are not cancelled. They give each other definition. Without change, continuity can become repetition without renewal. Without continuity, change has nothing from which to grow. In a period of transition, we might therefore ask more than, “What am I leaving behind?” We might also ask, “What has this made available?” What room has opened? What knowledge remains? What small beginning is already present, though it has not yet declared itself? There is no need to hurry towards an answer. Like a field between harvest and spring, what appears empty may be gathering the conditions for another form of life. Music in This Episode A Winged Victory for the Sullen – Steep Hills of Vicodin Tears (Mixed)Brian Eno – An Ending (Ascent) (2005 Digital Remaster)Bryan Senti – MalecónCaroline Shaw & Sō Percussion – A Gradual DazzleChristopher Willits – SpiralingCool Maritime – Temporal DryftJon Hopkins – Abandon Window (Remaster 2023)kangding ray – OrRyuichi Sakamoto – andata (immersion 2023)Shabason & Krgovich, Joseph Shabason & Nicholas Krgovich – What Comes BackSky H1 – TopazSun Rain & Spookyfish – Ideas of Light Headspace is a reflective, music-led podcast from Radio Lear. This episode ...
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    1 時間 2 分
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