Sonic fabric emits sound when you run a tape head (the little thingy inside the
tape deck that touches the tape) over it. Because the tape retains its magnetic
quality through the weaving process, it acts as a big wide band of tape.


I had no idea when I first conceived of this project that the fabric would be
"listenable"... the point for me was just to get as many of my all-time favorite sounds
onto the recording. So I made a collage of layered samples from my collection using an
analog 4-track recorder. When you run the tape head over the fabric you are reading
4 or 5 strands of tape at once ... in other words, 16 or 20 tracks all mixed together.
It sounds kind of like scratching a record backwards or radio static.


It's possible. For Jon Fishman's Sonic Rhythm Dress, I sewed in patches of
individual sounds and provided him with gloves that had tape heads mounted
in them for playback on stage. In order for the sounds to be perfectly audible,
though, the head would have to be swiped across the fabric at the same speed it
was recorded at. So it's a challenge to make that happen. To me it's the concept
that makes it meaningful ... all those sounds mixed together to form a
totally unique new sound.


Things I've collected throughout my whole life. Music and sounds that had a
great influence on me ... everything from my high-school punk band, Jack Kerouac,
ocean surf, shamanic medicine songs recorded in the Peruvian jungle, ambient city
street noise, the improvisational/experimental ensembles of myself and my friends,
the Beatles (especially Revolution #9 ... my earliest influence), and Pachelbel's
canon in D (my earliest musical memory).


Sure. Paypal me $5 and I'll send you a limited-edition cassette tape copy of
the Sounds of (1/2)Life.


It's quite simple, actually. Just take an old tape walkman, unscrew the head
and remount it on the outside of the plastic housing using silicone. Plug in the
headphones, turn the volume all the way up, and press PLAY. Now run the head
over the fabric. Works best if you drag it along in the same direction as the
tape (as opposed to running it along the warp, which is cotton or polyester).
Try it at various speeds and see what happens.


I grew up racing small sailboats, and on sailboats you need indicators to tell
the wind direction. These "tell-tails" can be made from feathers or small pieces
of string or yarn. On my father's boat (a 19' Lightning class sailboat) his tell-tail
of choice was made from a small strand of cassette tape because it's a light,
wind-sensitive, and durable material. When I was a kid I used to imagine that I
could hear Cat Stevens or Beethoven's 6th or whatever had been recorded onto
the tape wafting out into the air if the wind hit the tell-tail just the right way.
Years later, I learned about Tibetan Buddhist prayer flags. Colorful squares of
fabric silkscreened with mantras are hung outdoors in auspicious locations where
their blessings can be activated and sent off into the world on the wind. It
seemed a natural progression to me to combine these two concepts to
create a fabric with sounds I considered sacred woven into it.


The original batch of 2 yards of fabric was made from 100 individually-recorded
tapes. Because 30 minute, 60 minute, and 90 minute tape is different thicknesses,
the loom had to be constantly readjusted. For ease of manufacture, larger batches
of fabric are made from otherwise obsolete spools of 60-minute tape that is
recorded with my sound collage at one of the few studios still
equipped for such a thing.


Right now I have plenty, thank you, but I may resume accepting donations soon!
Thanks for asking!


Though I don't usually encourage this process, since it's time consuming and
expensive, nothing is outside the realm of possibility. Please contact me if
you're serious and we'll see what we can do.