So I'm going for a walk this morning around quiet suburban streets and there's a large dip in the road. At the bottom, on the right, is a small boat drying off after last night's rain with a mist of steam clouding the sun. To the front is the dark green wall of the escarpment with more fine mist shimmering at the top. And on the left, 12 feet up, is an electrical transformer that's buzzing, humming and singing to me...

Of all the records I used to own as a teenager, there was one that particularly got under my Dad's skin - La Monte Young's 'Turtle Dream' (or something like that). On one side was a sub-Indian raga which I hardly ever played. But on the other side was a 30 minute drone consisting of a single, deep, resonant chord created by a synthesiser or organ. As this played you could walk around the room and listen in awe as the chord changed dramatically with different overtones coming into play in ever distinct millimetre of air. Supposedly this piece was based upon the humming tone of a transformer that was very near to La Monte's childhood bedroom.

I played this damned record morning, noon and night. My favourite listening position was lying on my back with the speakers right next to my ears and with the volume turned up as high as it would go without distortion. This position would negate the glorious overtone changes but was a lot more comfortable for a 30 mionute stretch. Dad would either laugh at me, yell at me to turn it off or walk off in disgust. 

I prefer to keep shtumm these days and walk the silent streets instead.