This disc by Scanner and Tonne is a CD version of an installation theycreated for a London-based art show at the Institute of ContemporaryArts. It expands on the original concept that used location recordingsaround London to form a sound installation by adding themed pieces fromMilan, Tokyo, Montreal, and New York City. There is so much detail inthe process that created this record, that it has raised questions forme that hinder listening to the album as a simple recording. Should Ibe interested in the process that creates the resulting sound or focuson pulling meanings solely from the experience of the recording? Wheredoes the line between spectator and creator get blurred with works thatsimply reproduce a moment in time and space for later listening? Atwhat point do we become so fascinated with aural snapshots of real-lifeevents that we spend more time listening to someone else's version of awalk through New York City than we do our own? Is this what they meanby postmodernism? I'm not sure where to go with answers on any of thosetopics, but Scanner and Tonne provide a sound collage that is true tothe title of this collection. Each track is a manipulated collection ofcommonplace sounds from familiar environments that tend to reflect, ifnot always comment on the location in question. "Tokyo" begins withfield recordings from Japanese subways and melts into a nearlytechno-ish rumble that captures the dehumanizing effects of Tokyo'smassive scale and the isolation of its millions of commuters crammedcheek to cheek into trains, but never connecting. "Montreal" findsScanner returning to his namesake with stolen cell phone conversationsand the trademark high pitched whine of radio feedback. "Milano" is amelancholic abstraction that flirts with the introduction of rhythmicfigures that are never fully realized and buries the source material ina wash of synthetic pulses. These days, an artist can take a recordingof someone ordering a pizza and turn it into a convincing 808 kick drumand bass pattern, so it's not surprising that musicians like thesechoose artificially limited sets of sound sources to see where they cantake them. But while listening to 'Sound Polaroids,' I am reminded thatthere's no substitute for experience. These recordings are distilledthrough a very specific set of personal criteria set out by the artistsand they don't sound too terribly different in tone than a lot ofScanner's other work. These recordings don't capture the life andvibrancy and complexity of the environments they are reflecting as muchas they hint at a way to compose whatever music you want with whateverset of sounds you've got. Scanner + Tonne, "Sound Polaroids"
Bip-Hop
This disc by Scanner and Tonne is a CD version of an installation theycreated for a London-based art show at the Institute of ContemporaryArts. It expands on the original concept that used location recordingsaround London to form a sound installation by adding themed pieces fromMilan, Tokyo, Montreal, and New York City. There is so much detail inthe process that created this record, that it has raised questions forme that hinder listening to the album as a simple recording. Should Ibe interested in the process that creates the resulting sound or focuson pulling meanings solely from the experience of the recording? Wheredoes the line between spectator and creator get blurred with works thatsimply reproduce a moment in time and space for later listening? Atwhat point do we become so fascinated with aural snapshots of real-lifeevents that we spend more time listening to someone else's version of awalk through New York City than we do our own? Is this what they meanby postmodernism? I'm not sure where to go with answers on any of thosetopics, but Scanner and Tonne provide a sound collage that is true tothe title of this collection. Each track is a manipulated collection ofcommonplace sounds from familiar environments that tend to reflect, ifnot always comment on the location in question. "Tokyo" begins withfield recordings from Japanese subways and melts into a nearlytechno-ish rumble that captures the dehumanizing effects of Tokyo'smassive scale and the isolation of its millions of commuters crammedcheek to cheek into trains, but never connecting. "Montreal" findsScanner returning to his namesake with stolen cell phone conversationsand the trademark high pitched whine of radio feedback. "Milano" is amelancholic abstraction that flirts with the introduction of rhythmicfigures that are never fully realized and buries the source material ina wash of synthetic pulses. These days, an artist can take a recordingof someone ordering a pizza and turn it into a convincing 808 kick drumand bass pattern, so it's not surprising that musicians like thesechoose artificially limited sets of sound sources to see where they cantake them. But while listening to 'Sound Polaroids,' I am reminded thatthere's no substitute for experience. These recordings are distilledthrough a very specific set of personal criteria set out by the artistsand they don't sound too terribly different in tone than a lot ofScanner's other work. These recordings don't capture the life andvibrancy and complexity of the environments they are reflecting as muchas they hint at a way to compose whatever music you want with whateverset of sounds you've got.
This disc by Scanner and Tonne is a CD version of an installation theycreated for a London-based art show at the Institute of ContemporaryArts. It expands on the original concept that used location recordingsaround London to form a sound installation by adding themed pieces fromMilan, Tokyo, Montreal, and New York City. There is so much detail inthe process that created this record, that it has raised questions forme that hinder listening to the album as a simple recording. Should Ibe interested in the process that creates the resulting sound or focuson pulling meanings solely from the experience of the recording? Wheredoes the line between spectator and creator get blurred with works thatsimply reproduce a moment in time and space for later listening? Atwhat point do we become so fascinated with aural snapshots of real-lifeevents that we spend more time listening to someone else's version of awalk through New York City than we do our own? Is this what they meanby postmodernism? I'm not sure where to go with answers on any of thosetopics, but Scanner and Tonne provide a sound collage that is true tothe title of this collection. Each track is a manipulated collection ofcommonplace sounds from familiar environments that tend to reflect, ifnot always comment on the location in question. "Tokyo" begins withfield recordings from Japanese subways and melts into a nearlytechno-ish rumble that captures the dehumanizing effects of Tokyo'smassive scale and the isolation of its millions of commuters crammedcheek to cheek into trains, but never connecting. "Montreal" findsScanner returning to his namesake with stolen cell phone conversationsand the trademark high pitched whine of radio feedback. "Milano" is amelancholic abstraction that flirts with the introduction of rhythmicfigures that are never fully realized and buries the source material ina wash of synthetic pulses. These days, an artist can take a recordingof someone ordering a pizza and turn it into a convincing 808 kick drumand bass pattern, so it's not surprising that musicians like thesechoose artificially limited sets of sound sources to see where they cantake them. But while listening to 'Sound Polaroids,' I am reminded thatthere's no substitute for experience. These recordings are distilledthrough a very specific set of personal criteria set out by the artistsand they don't sound too terribly different in tone than a lot ofScanner's other work. These recordings don't capture the life andvibrancy and complexity of the environments they are reflecting as muchas they hint at a way to compose whatever music you want with whateverset of sounds you've got. 
