by Jake Bellissimo<\/p>\n
In contemporary music, the term \u201cfield recording\u201d doesn\u2019t have a specific definition. Because it simply means something recorded outside of a professional studio, it has many faces in contemporary society. As a result, the \u201ccanonical field recording repertoire\u201d is widespread, ranging from environment-based recordings<\/a> to spoken word collages<\/a> to folk music preservation<\/a>.<\/p>\n No matter which branch of field recordings you\u2019re referring to, though, there\u2019s no doubt that the concept of recording outside a professional environment has had immense impact on new music. The idea that the sounds of our environment make the music (or are the music) isn\u2019t a new idea, whether you\u2019re talking about Wolff\/Cagean philosophy<\/a> or Ludwig Koch\u2019s<\/a> work. Being conscious of the environment around us (both in a literal and figurative sense) has shaped the way we approach sounds in the 21st century.<\/p>\n When I say \u201cmy favorite field recordings\u201d, I\u2019m more interested in what I\u2019ve seen referred to as \u201cpure field recordings\u201d. You know, the recordings that aren\u2019t altered, mixed, or made into a piece. One of the most powerful things about field recordings for me is the fact that you can just stick a microphone on a streetlamp, press record, come back an hour later, and have a symphony waiting for you.<\/p>\n So, to celebrate this freedom, I want to share with you some recordings that I\u2019ve come to love\u2014the ones that I\u2019ve stayed up listening to over and over so I can appreciate perspectives I wouldn\u2019t think about.<\/p>\n (these aren\u2019t in a particular order)<\/p>\n \u2022 St Livres, Switzerland, Binaural Phonographic Documentary (2011) by Dallas Simpson Listen<\/a><\/p>\n \u2022 Sounds of Iceland (2015) by Hafd\u00eds Bjarnad\u00f3ttir Listen<\/a><\/p>\n \u2022 Sounds of North American Frogs (1957) by Charles M. Bogert Listen<\/a><\/p>\n \u2022 Blind Date (1985) by John Duncan Listen<\/p>\n
\no In her own words, Simpson says that \u201cthe aim [of her approach to recording] is to capture the sound of the location itself, without using the human voice directly either as narrative or commentary.\u201d She certainly captures that essence here, putting out one of the most blissfully smooth field recordings I have heard. Despite having many things going on (like the sounds ranging in timbre and volume), the passiveness of the environment always remains. Try listening to this on some sweet noise-cancelling headphones while in a big city.<\/p>\n
\no The most recent album on this list, Sounds of Iceland is a thorough collection of recordings from a wide variety of locations throughout Iceland and presented in pristine fashion. This is just a great example of an aural hike that takes you to places you (well, I guess me) have never been before. Bjarnad\u00f3ttir\u2019s role is that of a curator, recording natural sounds as a way to represent an entire area.<\/p>\n
\no Oh Folkways<\/a>, you always manage to push the most unexpected buttons. In this case, who would have expected that an educational album from 1957 about the sounds of frogs would end up amazing an American teen in the 2000s? It requires a bit more commitment due to the educational interjections, but the sounds are really poignant. One of those recordings I\u2019d pin as a classic.<\/p>\n
\no Definitely the most gruesome recording on this list, Blind Date is a field recording with a necrophilia-oriented backstory, and if you want to hear the backstory you can read that here<\/a>. I will probably write more about this piece in the future, but for me it represents a very powerful field recording that changed the way I think of music. Surely not a highlight piece for everyone, but it stretched the boundaries of both what a piece of music was and what a field recording was for the time.<\/p>\n