It took me about 15 seconds in to realize what was happening in this vid, but the second I did, I legit came. This is… I got chills and got so much validation for my theories about tap and pretty much any genre of music here…
cut to me, playing my horror instrument at 4 am; my downstairs neighbors bang relentlessly at their ceiling with a broom stick, trying to stop me from summoning witches
This literally sounds like every 20th century avant garde “fuck a key signature” piece.
I love that a dude spent time making this cumbersome hunk of metal that is in no way easy to play and woukd be nigh impossible to ever get a clean recording of, just to replicate a couple layers of filtering and instrument manipulation
I don’t think I’ve ever written this down before. This is the story of the first time I played a shofar (as I remember it, not as it happened).
So it’s the mid 90s and I’m in primary school (‘elementary’, my dear yanks). We were doing Religious Education and learning about Judaism, I think for the first time. The teacher didn’t really know anything about Judaism that wasn’t written in the book, so he kept asking me, since I was the Only Jewish Kid In The Class (only jewish kid in the school in fact, except my sister). I wasn’t very religious, but I was doing my best to make up reasonable sounding answers. Anyway, the school had somehow got hold of a shofar. (If anyone’s religious education wasn’t up to the stellar standards of mine, the shofar is the ram’s horn that’s blown like a trumpet as part of the ceremony of certain jewish holy days). The shofar was passed around the class, and of course, hygene be damned, everyone tried to play it. But it’s not an easy instrument to play, there’s more to it than just blowing. So everyone is puffing and wheezing and red in the face, and the best anyone can get out of this thing is a pitiful squeak. But we’ve all just seen the guy on the VHS tape with the hat and odd hairstyle blowing it, and we heard the tooting noise come out of the tinny little speakers of the TV on the wheely cart, so we know this isn’t right. Is our shofar broken or something? Is it blocked up?
Finally the shofar gets around to me, and I am psyched all the way up. I haven’t played a shofar before, but I’m determined to get some kind of noise out of this damn thing, because my heritage is looking silly right now. The burden of upholding the dignity of Judaism itself falls upon my narrow shoulders. So, I take the biggest breath I possibly can, and put the shofar to my lips. Everyone’s looking at me, because I’m The Only Jewish Kid In The Class. And the thing that nobody in the room (including me) is thinking about, is the fact that I’m also The Only Trumpet-Player Kid In The Class.
I only know one way to blow into an instrument. It happens to be the right way. And I do it, just as hard as I possibly can.
If you haven’t heard a shofar played properly in person, it’s not easy to describe. Recordings don’t capture it at all. Maybe it’s just because you usually hear it in a context of fasting and extreme reverence, but nonetheless a shofar blast (and that’s what they call it, a “blast”) is an amazing sound. The shofar sounds like raw naked power, it sounds like righteous fury. It sounds like more noise than a single human could ever make, yet it has a property like a human voice, like a bellow, a howl, like a newly bereaved mother splitting her lungs with blood and thunder. It’s a BIG sound, in the sense that it’s very loud, but also in the sense that it seems to fill whatever space it’s in, to come from all directions at once. It makes sense that the ancients gave it religious significance. When you hear the shofar’s call, the story of the Walls of Jerico tumbling down doesn’t seem that crazy.
So, it’s not possible to play a shofar quietly, and I’m giving the thing everything I’ve got in a little red brick classroom in southeast london. I can feel the room resonate and shake, hear the single-glazed windows rattle in their frames. I’m having a great time – this is the loudest noise I’ve ever made in my short life! And it’s in school! And I’m allowed to do it! So I keep going as hard as I can until my little lungs give out. I remember surfacing, out of breath and grinning, and listening as the antique cast-iron pipes throughout the building slowly stopped reverberating over the slack-jawed silence of the room.
The kids of course have seen enough TV to know exactly what happened. The Shofar knew I was Jewish. Obviously it’s not going to unleash that kind of unearthly sonic firepower for just anyone. Shofars only work for Jews. And the teacher is like “…That doesn’t sound right… but I don’t know enough about Judaism to dispute it?”. I didn’t offer any other explanations, because why would you demystify your Mystic Jew Powers?
And I’m writing this because I just realised that there were perhaps 30 kids in that class, and there just aren’t very many jews in southeast london to set them right, so it’s quite possible that there’s at least one 25 year old adult out there who still believes that the Shofar is a Holy Sacred Artefact which will Sound its Mighty Voice for none other than God’s Own Chosen People. And that cracks me up.
im putting together a couple of scottish folk mixes bc that’s what i do and im honestly curious if anyone in my country has ever been unequivocally happy about anything ever
scottish trad music genres:
Everyone I Love Is Dead
The English Have Stolen All My Sheep
You Want To Be My Boyfriend? First You Must Answer These Riddles Three
The Protestants Have Stolen All My Sheep
I Love You A Lot But You’ve Left Me And It’s Raining [fiddle solo]
The Sea Is Treacherous, Just Like The English
One Time Bonnie Prince Charlie Punched Me In The Face And It Was Awesome
The Fairies Have Stolen All My Sheep
We have of course the traditional Irish music genres to go with them:
* Everyone I Love Is An Allegorical Representation of Ireland
* The English Stole My Farm And Put Sheep On It
* You Were My Boyfriend But Now You Won’t Even Come To The Window To Look Upon Me And Our Dead Infant Child (In The Rain)
* Whack Fol Too La Roo Umptytiddly Good They’ve Stopped Listening Now Let’s Talk About Revolution
* Something In Irish, I Think It’s About Fairies, Or Maybe A Cow
oooo can I add to this? don’t forget Appalachian folk balladry, the American cousin of Scottish and Irish traditional music and just as uplifting as its Anglo-Saxon highland forbears!!!
genres include:
I Left Everyone I Love Back Home In The Holler To Be With This Guy Who Doesn’t Wear Shoes Or Have Teeth But He Plays A Mean Jug
The English Told Us Not To Move West Yet, We Ignored Them, My Entire Family Was Killed
You Were My Boyfriend But You Tied A Sack Of Rocks To My Petticoats And Threw Me In The Creek (And My Baby Too)
Mama Loves All 14 Of Us A Lot But She’s Weary Of Our Shit And Now She’s Dyin’ (Gather Round)
The McCleans Stole A Firewood Log From Our Pile So We Won’t Rest Until The Last Of Their Male Kin Is Laid In The Cold Ground
We Knew The River Would Rise But We Still Didn’t Fix The Levee
The River Rose, The Levee Broke, Everyone Died, It Was Just As We Reckoned (dulcimer twang-a-lang)
When The Rebels Come A-Marchin’ I’m A Southern Man And I Feed Their Horses My Best, When The Yankees Come A-Marchin’ I’m A Northern Man And I Feed Their Horses What The Rebels Left
The Tennessee Valley Authority Killed All My Sheep Somehow
Don’t forget that old standby “The Mine Collapsed and Everyone Died”!
I think someone needs to put in a word for the English folk tradition though:
I Met a Girl and We Went Hunting (It Was a Metaphor for Sex)
I Met a Girl and We Caught Some Birds (It Was a Metaphor for Sex)
I Met a Girl and We Found Her Lost Pet (It Was a Metaphor for Sex)
I Met a Girl By Staying At Her Parents’ House and She Made My Bed (It Was an Especially Thinly-Veiled Metaphor for Sex)
I Am a Girl and I Regret Engaging In Metaphors for Sex Because Now I’m Pregnant
I Met a Girl and Bribed Her Into Sex But She Stole My Horse and Ran Away With It
I Met a Girl At an Inn and We Had Non-Metaphorical Sex But She Stole My Stuff The Next Morning and Now I Have Syphilis
Your Fiance Died Either at Trafalgar or Waterloo, Let’s Get Married, I’m Glad You Said No Because I’m Really Him In Disguise
Lord Nelson Sure Was Awesome
The Press-Gang Dragged Off All the Important Men in My Life (And Now They Are Dead)
Farm Laborers Are The Salt of the Earth And Are Never Grindingly Poor
Begging Is a Completely Viable Career Option With Flexible Hours and Unlimited Access to Alcohol
behold mongolian folk music genres
I Went Out Riding and Noticed Mongolia
We Fought a Bunch of Guys (On Horseback)
Witness My Many Ungulates
(While On a Horse) I Met a Hot Girl Who Reminded Me of a Plant
On Three, Say What That Terrain Feature Looks Like to You (One, Two, Three, A Horse)
Witness My Many Ancestors’ Many Ungulates
I Also Enjoy Heavy Metal, Especially If It’s Made of Horseshoes
Oooorrrrweeeeuuurrrreeeeuuuuwwwwwrrrrrrrr (Is Tuvan for “Horse”)
You Might Not Know This About Me, But I Own a Horse
THE MONGOLIAN FOLK SONGS MADE IT BETTER.
now with more okinawan!
We Must Plant the Crops, Let’s Get Drunk!
We Must Harvest the Crops, Let’s Get Drunk!
There’s No Crops Right Now, Let’s Get Drunk!
Sex On the Beach Is Awesome, War Is Bad
There Are Ghosts in the Trees
The Japanese Exploit Us (And the Americans Do Too)
I Love the Sea, This Island Is Beautiful, War Is Still Bad
Hey, There’s an Old Man, Let’s Get Drunk!
Respect Your Parents Or You Will Be Lost at Sea Forever
As the daughter of a folksinger and spouse of a folklorist, I love this SO MUCH. Here’s some from the sub-sub-genre of French folk songs of the Midwest…
I Am A Brawny-Armed Lumberjack Who Loves a Town Girl, Oh No!
Oh Fuck, I Slept With a Fur Trapper, What Shall I Tell Maman?
Hauling Logs, Rolling Logs, Driving Logs, All Day, What Ho!
Like Hell You’re Marrying That Good for Nothing Bambocheur!
Fetch My Gold Ring That Fell Into the Sea! Now!
I Met A Sailor While A-Strolling, And Now We Are In Love!
I Want to Kiss the Sailor I Met A-Strolling, But I’m Afraid My Father Will Find Out!
Oh Fuck, I Kissed the Sailor I Met A-Strolling And Now We Are Doomed!
Some Italian Folk Music Genres
A Spider Has Bitten Me And If I Do Not Dance I Will Die, Alas
I Am A Very Fancy Man With A Very Fancy Hat
The Cable Car Is A Thinly-Veiled Metaphor For Your Feminine Torture, O Woman
Rome Is The Very Best Place And Every Other Place Is Just Awful
I Love You, But You Are Married
I Love You, But You Are Fickle (Why Did You Dance With The Baker’s Son, Thou Vixen?)
I Love You, But You Left Me All Alone On This Romantic Wind-Swept Hillside, Which Is Actually Very Pretty, But Not As Pretty As You, Foul Temptress
Rome Is Still The Best Place And Every Other Place Can Go Right To Hell
Seriously Once You Have Been To Rome You Will Just Be Sick At The Thought Of Being Anywhere Else, You Will Pine Away And Die
I Love You, But You Are Dead (Or Maybe You Just Went To Live In A Slightly Prettier Place)
Rome, Rome, O Rome, Ah Rome, Rome Rome Rome, Have I Mentioned That I Love Rome?
Venetian Special Genres:
Women Are Like The Ocean: Salty And Full Of Drowned Sailors
Women Are Like The Ocean: I Cannot Figure Them Out At All
I Saw You One Time At A Party And I Have Designs Upon Your Feminine Virtue
I Love You, But You Are Married To The Ocean (For Some Reason)
I thought I would add some Dutch ones, because I saw no one had added any: – That Girl Is A Prostitute (But At Least She Goes To Church)
– That Incompetent Sailor Is Actually A Girl, But She Will Have Sex With You If You Don’t Kick Her Off The Boat
– Someone Of Any Occupation Is Doing Something, But Unfortunately They Are Now Dead
– Fuck You Spain (Haha, We Sunk Your Boat And Stole Your Silver)
– Fuck You England
– We Might Be Small, But We Will Fight You
– Life Isn’t So Bad, If You Just Go Outside
– Fuck You Winter
– Look At That Guy (Wild Racism)
– We Like Going To Other Countries (More Wild Racism)
– Drinking Is Fun
– Drinking Makes Me Long For Sea
– God Is My Dad
– My Province Is Great And Full Of Nature
Some nice Russian folk songs:
There Was A War And Everyone is Dead, There’s Also a Symbolic Bird
There is Going to Be a War And Everyone Will Die, There’s Also a Sybmolic Bird
The Dyeing Is Happening Right Now, There’s Also a Symbolic Bird
I Had a Dream About Us Dying (No Birds Involved)
Alas You Are Dead
I’m a Bird, I Drink Vodka
Fuck It’s Cold
Frost Do Not Freeze Me Do Not Freeze My Horse Do Not Freeze My Wife Please I Have Children
And my personal favourite:
Ayy Lmao This Guys Head Just Got Shot Off, We Are Going to Die Hahaha
I just couldn’t miss an opportunity to provide you a comprehensive summary of Ukrainian folk music genres.
~ I Married To A Man And Moved Far From My Home But I Want Fucking Back On My Fucking Land To My Parents And A Guy Whom I Actually Planned To Marry Before My Society’s Patriarchal Structure Destroyed My Life
~ A Guy Whom I Loved Loved Me And Also A Some Other Bitch So I Poisoned Him So That Nobody Gets Him
~ This Is My Land And I Love It Very Much, Period
~ I Made A Traditional Kupala Wreath And Released It On Water To Find My Love, No Sexual Hits Involved
~ I Have A Veeery Deeeeep Well In My Garden, And Also A Veeery Curly-Wurly Cabbage, And Also A Veeery Sweeeet Carrot Growing There, Come On Guys Check It Out, Oh, And There Are Totally No Sexual Hints
~ Graphic Descriptions Of Lesbian Sex
~ Everybody Is Dead After A Battle But There Is One Particular Cossack Whom I Am Especially Obligated To Mourn About Because He Is A Representative Of Our Entire Nation’s Young People
~ The Couple Cannot Be Together Because Of Various Reasons And Everybody Cries
~
The Couple Cannot Be Together Because Of Various Reasons And Everybody Cries And It’s Compared To Some Sad Shit Happening In Nature
~ Let’s Kill All People Who Threaten Ukraine Hahaha Yay!
~Let’s Kill All People Who Threaten Ukraine And Involve Some Couple Who Cannot Be Together Because Of Various Reasons And Everybody Cries
Adding these well-known Cajun hits
~ I have a boat and have procured many crawfish do you love me?
~ I sure do love crawfish, boats, the bayou, and also dancing
~ My girlfriend can cook, and is therefore superior your girlfriend, who cannot
~ my girlfriend cannot cook and is therefore inferior to all other girlfriends
~ I saw you over a pile of crawfish and knew I was in love (on the bayou)
~ a list of regional dishes set to the tune of kitchen utensils
some of you have been saying to me, “Hey, you’re a heathen who fears neither God nor death, right? Nuke The Sound Of Silence.”
so, after a lot of stalling, here is “The Sound Of Silence, But The Instruments Are The Vocals And The Vocals Are The Instruments.” What does that mean, you ask?
You are about to find out. Enjoy the ride.
that’s what I like to hear
It feels like my ears are upside down??
i love this sound designer you did not disappoint me
This is the last thing you hear before the AI take over and assimilate you.
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