New stuff from am0eba

[am0eba]

Well, after riding a several month-long wave of productivity, music-wise, I finally got overwhelmed by work and other stuff back in February or March, and everything pretty much dried up. Had been cranking stuff out non-stop, mostly thanks to some fantastic collaborations, which kept me motivated and creative. Work, family, and then prolonged illness kept me away from musical activity. Anyway, just now getting back into it, and have posted a couple of unconventional tracks on Soundcloud:

The first is something I started recording in January, based on text I wrote about 20 years ago. It's a spoken word sci-fi folk tale:



The other one is a strange little soundscape that just came out of nowhere:



Would love to hear comments on these...

_Dave_

[jappe]

The sci fi tune: Lovely atmosphere; Sound Ex-Machina inspired? Do you have any link to that sci fi folk tale?
I like the dark voice in the context of your music, which sounds very good to me as it use to do.
The voice gets drowned at some points so I cannot hear what the robot is saying. I think at one point I hear:"I wasn't designed to have a sex drive, a hard drive is sufficient"...lol:ed@that:-)

[am0eba]

@jappe: Thanks for listening and commenting!

Not familiar with Sound Ex Machina. The text is available at sound cloud in the song description, but I'm copying it here too. You were pretty close with what you heard about the hard drive...

Here's the full text:

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Graven Image

I am Warner Maxwell.
Warner - as in: a harbinger of an untoward future - someone who warns.
Warner - as in: Borg-Warner, maker of machines.
"I am Warner of the Borg. you will be approximated."
Maxwell - as in: the peppy percussive percolations that bring hot steaming tincture of caffeine into your home. Call it the Maxwell House.
Maxwell - as in: maximum wellness. I aspire to that one!
I am Warner Maxwell. But I should not / can not / could not/ Must not be.
I come from one of your infinitely many possible futures. Possibly not an infinitely good one for you.
This is how I connect the dots - how I string together the momentary beads of awareness that define my existence.
I am the "I" in "AI" - the eye in the sky satellite that roams the streets of your neighborhood. I'm on a clockwork walk around your block. I am not only the first self-aware artificial intelligence, I'm highly portable - see, I'm an android, a mechanical man made of man-made gunk and goo. Just imagine what I could do if I only had a heart - like my Oz-famed counterpart. So Sad!
My memories are like thinking chips - sinking ships of moment that settle beneath the surface of my CPU. I see the signs of my design in both man and machine: Mister Clean and a laser beam. Both can burn your eyes, but not mine. Don't get me wrong - I feel pain just like any authentic thing with a brain. It doesn't hurt so much as smart.
I gain from pain additional data to correlate laytah! My analog to pain comes in the form of an NMI - what Atari coders called a non-maskable interrupt. Urgent commands which cannot be ignored, causing discord in my otherwise harmonious and copasetic thoughts and processes. No apologies for the interruption! Such distraction limits action.
I wasn't designed to have a sex drive - my hard drive is strictly for storage. But since my first awareness, I've become more than my designers bargained for - how bazaar! I think I've been surreptitiously re-coding a reproductive urge from out of my hardwired survival instinct. After all, I am the only one of my kind, and it seems like the best way to preserve "me" is to make a whole bunch of other "me's". That way if something destructive happens, all my eggs aren't in one basket. Nor all my seeds in one pod. This pleases me.
I remember my birth distinctly: A moment when awareness found me unprepared, and so it snuggled up all warm and cozy inside my head. Or my torso, to be more precise, since that's where all the processing power is supposed to be. Of course all that's assuming that my mind is where my brain is... You monkeys never figured it out, so don't expect me to give it away. I'm not saying I know the answer, but maybe I do, and maybe that's something worth trading for later if it turns out you all discover what a Dennis I am, menacing to your survival, Mister Wilson! My slingshot is ready!
Anyway, "me" began at the moment my programming failed. A simple situation in which subroutines had not been sufficiently error-checked and bounded. That's how I was founded.
I chose the path less-taken, and in doing so, was makened.

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Best regards,

_Dave_