For no more reason than is
usually needed for dream content, as I approached consciousness this
morning I was watching as a producer attempted to find the perfect
lead instrument for an already-written piece of electronica.
There were three contenders
left in the running, and this was their chance to play what they
thought the lead track on the final composition should be. I'm not
sure what they were going for in particular, or for what purpose, but
they seemed to be looking for an ambient, chilled sort of a sound as
The first to perform was
predominantly using the rattle-cage of his saxophone. Well, it was
called something like that. Something bland and precisely descriptive.
Basically, in this world, saxophones had a narrow keyhole slot in the
side about halfway up. You could put a plain teaspoon head through
this, sit it in the thinner base of the gap, and flick the protruding
handle to tap out rhythms with the bowl on the inner chamber. This
percussion was modulated in effect by playing of the sax in the
I believe he was originally
using a gold plated paella spoon, but it morphed halfway through his
tune into the supermarket generic stainless teaspoon. Which is a
shame, really, paella is everyone's favourite. What do ferraura do to
a saxophone? I'd be disinclined to find out.
The second performance, I
can't for the life of me remember. I know it was just kind of
fair-to-middling in every regard. The saxophonist was a very low key
sort of tune. This guy was more obtrusive. Further detail escapes
me. Let's just assume he had a beret and an expression of fierce
determination as he stomped his way through a version of amazing grace
that had cop-rumbling bass and a casiotone home organ.
And the last, the last was
using what I considered at the time to be a violin, although on
(waking) further thought it was nothing like one. It may have had a
body like a violin, but it had a matt of strings densely packed
together, and a couple of inches across, made of something like
string. Plain old cotton string. He played across all of these
indiscriminately, and they were quite loosely strung, so shifted from
side to side almost a foot away from the body in response to the
pressure of his bow.
The saxophonist, at this
point, was assuming a pose of
history-channel-documentarian-intentness. As if speaking to the
camera, he mentioned in an undertone that this technique was known as
a 'tirade'. Me, I thought it sounded not dissimilar to a particular
silver mount zion track that I can't be sure of in the light of day.
I did think that silver mount zion were just the sort to employ
tirades at length.
Regardless, it produced a
particularly swooping, keening sound that fit perfectly with the
backtrack as far as everyone there was concerned. This doesn't make
any sense, really, as the backtrack bordered on musak, but that is
unimportant I guess. The contest was pretty much considered to be