
- 1Spring Bodies
- 2Three Voices
- 3You Deserve Everything Pt. 1
- 4You Deserve Everything Pt. 2
- 5Air In Lungs Feels Like
- 6This Landscape Is Body Is Throat
- 7A Freighter’s Song (foreign element)
- 8The Whales Underneath The Freighter
- 9Metallic Raw
- 10I Contain Your Words Just Like You Contain Mine
- 11 Find Myself Among Voices
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Open edition
SILO is the result of improvised compositions, created and recorded inside an empty silo in Seyðisfjörður, Iceland. This cylindrical empty tank was formerly used in the production of fish meal, the main industry of this small town.
Large fishing boats constantly come and go from the fjord, where steep and lean mountains rise up on both sides.
The silo is like an encapsulation of the fjord, where all sounds from the surrounding waterfalls, snow blizzards, sea birds, ships, and factory machines are sucked in and thrown around, spiralling in metallic reverberations. Once you have entered through the small hatch opening, all senses sharpen. The light is dim, illuminating the orange dust-covered floors. There’s an obscure smell of rust and fish, and breath turns into steam in the frigid cold air. Every sound, each footstep and movement of the body, is amplified in the soundscape of the silo. The sense of time and space quickly gets lost. The source of that which you’re sensing is ambiguous as the sounds of the synth, the flute and voices are woven into each other, blurring distinctions between what is mine/yours/ours.
Large fishing boats constantly come and go from the fjord, where steep and lean mountains rise up on both sides.
The silo is like an encapsulation of the fjord, where all sounds from the surrounding waterfalls, snow blizzards, sea birds, ships, and factory machines are sucked in and thrown around, spiralling in metallic reverberations. Once you have entered through the small hatch opening, all senses sharpen. The light is dim, illuminating the orange dust-covered floors. There’s an obscure smell of rust and fish, and breath turns into steam in the frigid cold air. Every sound, each footstep and movement of the body, is amplified in the soundscape of the silo. The sense of time and space quickly gets lost. The source of that which you’re sensing is ambiguous as the sounds of the synth, the flute and voices are woven into each other, blurring distinctions between what is mine/yours/ours.




