『Soundwalk』のカバーアート

Soundwalk

Soundwalk

著者： Chad Crouch
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 Soundwalk combines roving field recordings with an original musical score. Each episode introduces you to a sound-rich environment, and embarks on an immersive listening journey. It's a mindful, wordless, renewing retreat.

chadcrouch.substack.comChad Crouch 個人的成功 自己啓発 音楽
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  • Crane Lake Soundwalk

    Crane Lake Soundwalk
    2025/06/06
    I’ve been doing soundwalks for three years now, but it feels like longer. Crane Lake Soundwalk is officially #64.I remember the day my dad told me he listened to The Beatles’ “When I’m Sixty-Four” on the morning of his 64th birthday. He expressed a certain disbelief that he caught up to the song he first encountered as a twenty-year-old. He didn’t feel sixty-four, he said. I even remember the day he repurchased the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album as a CD in his forties. He picked me up at Dudley’s Records in downtown Portland, Oregon, and on a whim did some used CD shopping. In addition to the aforementioned Beatles, he picked up Cat Stevens’ Tea for the Tillerman and James Taylor’s Greatest Hits Vol. 1. Quite the haul, and ultimately not lost on me, even though I was in the thrall of New Wave. I spent my money on New Order and The Smiths. Anyway, I suppose that’s just to say, time has a way of sneaking up on all of us. And it leads me to ask, as one does occasionally, how did I get here? Luckily I’d been doing some thinking on it recently and. Here is why I’m still making soundwalks: * These soundwalk environmental recordings—rendered while moving through the landscape at the human scale—possess an intimacy that a fixed position soundscape does not have. In the same way that a human photographed in front of a redwood tree helps communicate the grandeur of the tree, footsteps, and the passing of sounds in and out of the audible horizon lend dimensionality and scale. * It’s so much easier to get “good tape”, when you just roll all the time.* It gets me outside. * There’s room to grow. I’m getting better.Crane Lake Soundwalk is an interesting addition to the catalog. It’s stimulating. There’s a lot of wildlife to hear. And if you have the time to spare, you can compare this soundwalk to my debut Listening Spot release, Crane Lake Suite, made on the same day, in the same place, but from a fixed position. It does illustrate differences in the approach.It’s just not every day you find yourself next to a shallow body of water roiling with carp.Now, if you just tuned in to the soundwalk without reading this, and didn’t know about the carp, you might think it was me sloshing through the water, before realizing the splashes had a fishiness to them. I can imagine it being a little puzzling to the uninitiated.To get to Crane Lake you walk down a grassy lane on a seldom visited quarter of Sauvie Island, just north of Portland, Oregon.Soon enough you come to the lake. There are no official trails. Just slightly trampled lanes in the grass. Here we hear Cedar Waxwing, Black-headed Grosbeak, Tree Swallow, Song Sparrow, Western Wood Pewee, Yellow Warbler, Swainson’s Thrush… We also hear the swish of grass underfoot and the cottonwoods quaking in the breeze.At the lake Great Blue Herons stand statuesque. They occasionally erupt from the grass thickets with Cretaceous croaks, ranging around for a new fishing spot. This is like a fast food drive thru for Bald Eagles. Easy pickings in the shallow lake.Juveniles have dark head feathers. They remain silent for the duration of my visit. You will, however, hear a Stellar’s Jay mimic a Red-tailed hawk call (28:20). The Red-tailed Hawk call has long been a stand-in for an eagle call in Hollywood movie sound design. Fine sheets of rain fall in waves. The drops sound like little pin pricks, falling on the brim of my recording hat. I walk along the western perimeter of the lake on a little lane. Gentle sounds abound. I walk slowly. This is not the oldest composition I’m sharing this year, but it was tracked a year ago. It’s a little surprising to me that I’ve stuck with a lot of these instrument voices since then. My general drift, I would say, is toward a more electrified palette. But finding the electric sounds that are expressive is time consuming, so I guess it makes sense that when I find a few, I’m going to use them for a while. That’s about all I have to say about this one. I hope it adds a little something to your corner of the world. Thanks for listening and reading!Crane Lake Soundwalk is available on all music streaming services today, June 6. Have a listen, and if you enjoy what you hear, please consider telling just one person about it. Thank you! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chadcrouch.substack.com/subscribe
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    35 分
  • Forest Melody Suite

    Forest Melody Suite
    2025/05/30

    This is who we hear at the top of our soundwalk: The Black-headed Grosbeak.

    They say it sounds like an operatic American Robin. I can’t say I disagree. Its phrases rise and fall with ebullient fluidity.

    This week we are back in Forest Park, in my hometown, Portland, Oregon. It’s the subject of a multifaceted series that is spooling out across all my music pseudonyms throughout the year, and probably into the next here on Substack and on music streaming services. So far we’ve been introduced to Forest Park Rain Suite I & II, The Wildwood Trail in Sound and Vision, and last week’s Ancient Forest Suite. This week it’s Forest Melody Suite.

    The first thing I notice is that this breaks the rule I set for Listening Spot releases: no pianos leading the way. Forest Melody Suite has a Wurlitzer electric piano front and center through the whole 17 minute runtime. I love the deep tone of this particular electric piano, and I love the punctuated, syllabic structure of a phrase played on a piano. Maybe hearing all the melodic birdsong made it irresistible to reach for it. Or maybe it was just easier to start with. Honestly, I don’t remember. It was the path of least resistance, one way or another.

    The environmental audio we hear was recorded in the Miller Creek watershed on the quiet northern side of Forest Park; definitely a top spot for migratory birds in the vast park. Here you’ll find a healthy fish-bearing creek (the only one in the park to host salmonids) and complex structure in the forest canopy. I kinda took Forest Park for granted, growing up in Portland. But it really is something special!

    We hear plenty of Pacific Wren, Wilson’s Warbler, Cordilleran Flycatcher, Downy Woodpecker, Red-breasted Nuthatch, Song Sparrow and some tricky-to-ID baby birds too. The scene was positively alive.

    Thanks for being here; for listening and reading. Ancient Forest Suite is available under the artist name Listening Spot on all streaming platforms Friday, May 30th.



    This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chadcrouch.substack.com/subscribe
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    17 分
  • On Creative Work

    On Creative Work
    2025/05/22
    This is a free preview of a paid episode. To hear more, visit chadcrouch.substack.comRenewalSometimes my brain wakes up before my body wants to these days. And sometimes, when this occurs, I reach for my earbuds to feed my brain a gentle signal while my body transitions from asleep to awake. A couple days ago, when this happened, I instinctively decided to cue up the oldest, least recognizable opus in my trove of draft audio files: #2046. (You’re invited to tap that play button at the top if you haven’t already to listen in.)The tones of a familiar Pianet electric piano trickled into my ears, followed by a tape-delayed synth, an unrecognized electrified piano, then brighter, more kaleidoscopic voices. I had forgotten this piece. I listened, charmed by many things, annoyed by numerous details as well. Later that day I pulled up the session, noting it was created a year ago, to the day. I massaged it, sanded it its rough sonic edges, and came away with something I was happy with. Indeed, I’m eager to share this rediscovered piece. I’ve titled it Renewal. Beyond the preview above, I’m making this another Substack Exclusive. This is the only place you can hear it.Soundwalk is a reader-supported publication. Paid subscriptions start at less the $3/month. Free subscribers are valued too!Looking back, it is perhaps one of the earliest harbingers of a new direction that would become my Sleeping Animal oeuvre. Which is to say, it’s the first of a string of impressionistic and atmospheric instrumental suite pieces that do not use environmental recordings to lend atmospheric overtones. Speaking of which, another planned Sleeping Animal release arrives tomorrow, May 22 on all streaming services. Look for Rays, wherever you get your music.Human Dust, or 50 Times Dumber than a StarfishThis morning I did it again. This time, at 5:30 am I chose to cue up the debut album by Eliana Glass: E. I formed a favorable first impression watching a video clip, so I was hopeful the album would prove out my hunch. Long story short, after a couple listens it largely did. I do like Glass’ unique voice, which according to her blurb, “blends sonorous, androgynous poise with fluttering delicacy.” One track, “Human Dust” piqued my interest as I tried to parse out the lyrics in the dawn light of the bedroom.The first line grabbed me: “He was an artist. He died of a heart attack. He was born fifty years ago, which means he lived a half century, or 2/3 of his expected lifespan.”Well that could be me, I thought. Go on. The nearly eight minute song then lists a number of statistical observations—both private and quotidian—in an attempt to eulogize this man with objective candor, as if from an omniscient point of view. But the tone, if objective, was not empathetic or charitable: “He was unhappy and lonely more often than not, achieved 1/10,000 of his dreams…” The line that really grabbed me was this: His work was good but not great,and the last 10 years of his life he resigned himself to this fact.Could that also be me? I wondered. In the ranks of all those who self-identify as artists, what percentage are great? And these “great” artists; do they know it, like without a doubt? Padding down the stairs to make the morning coffee I felt a mix of introspection, intrigue and a touch of resentment as I strained to decode all the lyrics. Later that morning I discovered that the lyrics are a reading from the text of Agnes Denes’ 1969 art installation piece, Human Dust, which features a shallow bowl of cremains on a pedestal, and the text on the wall.The interesting moments in the song come from misreads. While describing the man’s future offspring, instead of “1 will have an unusual talent, 1 will be a politician, 1 will collect garbage,” Glass sings, “I will have an unusual talent, I will be a politician, I will collect garbage,” forcing a lurch in narrative framing. Instead of “[He consumed] 140 gallons of wine,” Glass murmurs, “4000-and gallons of wine”. Rather than “moved his bowels 18,548 times,” a mouthful, she abbreviates “384 times” with a cool nonchalance. Lastly, instead of “his brain contained 1010 neurons and it received 109 electrical impulses,” she deadpans “His brain contained 10 neurons and 10 electrical impulses.” Poor soul. No wonder he never achieved greatness. He was a constipated drunk; 50 times dumber than a starfish! But, comic reading aside, the heft of the work survives—despite the specifics lost in translation—and one could argue it possesses an impact that the stark bones, dust and text in a museum do not convey. I ruminated on it all morning.I could not find the text quoted on the internet. I zoomed in on the gallery photo to read it. ( In all fairness, the “1” in the typeface is mistakable for an “I”.)His work was good but not great. It struck a nerve. It’s a much more potent insult to an artist, than say, a tradesperson. Good but ...
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    5 分

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