A client needed to send me some production materials–a script and some audio recordings–in order for me to begin work on a short project tomorrow. Normally they’d just upload the files to my FTP sever, but in this case everything was a hard-copy: the script printed on paper (with hand-written notes) and the audio burned to CD-R. These hard copies were also in midtown Manhattan and I’m in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. Someone had to go pick them up.
Just to be clear (least my colleague read this and get the wrong idea) this wasn’t a big deal and I’m not really complaining. I only mention it as another one of ways I see my digital and analog lives blurring. I’ve grown so used to making these kinds of exchanges online that taking a few extra minutes to make a physical hand-off somehow seemed…maybe not antiquated so much as unnecessarily inefficient given the tools at our disposal.
Again: NOT a big deal. The subway makes New York City a reasonably good sneakernet. Besides, I enjoy reading on the subway. I had just finished a book, so I grabbed one of my roommate’s magazines on the way out the door. (I tend to read magazines online these days.)
Settling into my Q train seat a few minutes later, I opened to the first page and caught myself thinking, who turned off Adblock?
Today I hopped around Manhattan to record three interviews for three different clients. The final recording was with Leonard Lauder, former CEO of Estée Lauder; Estée was his mother. He’s also chairman of the Whitney Museum of Art and a major art collector with a particular fondness for postcards, the subject of our recording.
Here’s the view from Estée Lauder’s waiting room (please forgive the camera-phone):
Then we were escorted to a quiet corner conference room to record the interview and enjoy this view of Central Park:
Here’s the second episode of “The Joad Show.” Though I did the sound design for all the wipes and transitions, my favorite part is actually the second or so of silence during “Poor Margaret’s” close-up around 2:30. A little room-tone goes a long way.
Joad Cressbeckler: NASA Honeyfuggling America With Nonsense Space Dreams
One memory in particular I have about Rev 105 is being in 6th or 7th grade and listening to special feature about Soul Coughing. They devoted a whole hour of air-time to the group, featuring live and unreleased tracks interspersed with interviews and pre-produced segments about the band’s history and development (narrated, I think, by Mary Lucia). It was cassette-tape “gold,” and tape it I did. (Where is that tape today? Did I record over it?)
Remember how we used to collect our music?
You’d hear a catchy song on the radio but miss the ID, so you’d call the station. “That song. What was that song?” and you’d hum a few bars for the DJ, approximate a few misheard lyrics. “I think there was a trumpet?” And then she’d tell you what it was.
The next day you’d call the station to make a request, and they’d promise play it sometime within the hour. You’d wait at your parent’s stereo, your finger hovering in anticipation over the red circle on the tape deck. 90 minutes passed, and then:
“By request, here’s…,” the first few bars already creeping up beneath her voice. You’d fumble for the “rec” button.
And so you collected whole shoe-boxes of mixtapes with no particular unifying theme, each song missing the first few seconds because, of course, you needed to hit “rec” and “play” at the same time.
I can’t remember the last time I biked to the park specifically to find a good place to read. I stayed there for hours, until the sun fell behind the trees.
