I was out in the boat, late, when I first heard it, a hollow scraping knock, rhythmic. I stopped pulling at the net and threw a beam over the water, expecting to see a buoy that had broken free, or a raft of debris, but there was nothing but the slow rolling swells. The sound stopped.
I dragged the boat onto the beach and went into my shack, and sleep.
I woke in darkness. At first I heard only the soft hush of the waves, but then there, the sound, louder than before, like a distant mallet on metal. I stepped into my boots and grabbed the light.
The sound rang out from across the breakers, faint, but insistent. I pushed the boat into the water and motored past the waves, turned off the engine. The sound carried across the gently heaving sea, close and loud. I lifted the light, rocking with the boat. Nothing, but then there, an angular metallic shape in the water, almost submerged. I moved to restart the outboard, then a blow, a splintering crack. I was in the water, gasping in the cold of it, blinded, pulled down.
We are bound together in the dark, an enclosed metal space, swaying, a shipping container. I cannot see the others, but I feel them, pressing against me, breathing. The stale air stinks of shit and vomit. I have to get out. I grope around me, trying to find a way through the huddled bodies. My hand closes around something, a length of pipe. I bring it against the wall of the container, over and over, maybe someone will come.
Some of this is music for video games. The rest is a fairly raw document of my ongoing attempt to find something new among the blinking lights in my studio at home.
Noveller got me started. This is essential listening for guitar explorers. Always inspires me to continue the search for new ways to shape the air. Michael Bell
Disasterpeace's latest game soundtrack is packed to the gills with samples, mimicking the background noise of the subways in the game. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 29, 2016