Covered in moss and mushrooms, deep within a metropolis-turned-overgrowth, is a solar-powered computer. The last of its kind. A haunting artifact of one final attempt at green capitalism. It lays in the dirt and houses insects that move about the strained cables. Broken sounds spit out of the machine at an agonizing, random rate. If it rains hard enough for water to leak in, a miniature short-circuit will occur, creating a succession of sounds. They are neither ugly nor beautiful. Other than that, these sounds are individual.
When the stars align, something cinematic happens to the retired machine: music.
The bugs’ feet scratch the wires, rain drips into the machine, and successive tones escape the nearly destroyed built-in speakers. Glitched microsounds fall right on top of each other and fade after a moment or two of reverberation. Unfortunately, the miniature short-circuits can cause an even more miniature spark that results in the death of some of the even more miniature bugs, thus ending the song. It’s a balancing act between beast, machine, and nature.
These moments are few and far between and witnessed by only a few scientists allowed to visit the area. Never before has there been a proper recording, only tales from the cosmonauts of Shuttle358. There’s no reason to make something like that up, so most of us believe it.
Shuttle358’s newest release, Field is out now via digital and vinyl platforms on 12k. Stream it below:
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