A Closer Listen
What is the sound of summer? Kate Carr spent the longest day of 2023 recording the length of London while traveling the Thames. As of today, the summer solstice has come around again, and her soundscape serves as both evocation and invitation.
The best way to listen is straight through: to imagine one’s self replicating the artist’s journey. But it’s also important to note the individual track titles, which seem like diary entries. One of the most endearing (and we dare you to request this song by title on the radio): “Crossing the river: I am getting hungry and lots of people are talking about food. Also Jesus loves me.” Keep in mind that one can’t walk the length of London in 46 minutes; the recording preserves the best parts of the tarrying, listening and collating.
First comes the sound of the train, a chug followed by a metallic roar, and then people embarking and disembarking. Consider this the “all aboard” of the set. The rest will demonstrate what one might miss should one remain on the train. A transit announcement is followed by disembodied voices, like sights rushing by or stories blurred and unheard. A jogger passes by; the waterbirds begin to flirt. Carr adds a gentle, ringing drone: an impression of an impression, a reflection of a thought. To traverse London is to consider London.
A hungry girl discusses cake; a siren passes; a dog barks from a boat. “What the heck?” someone asks, perhaps the artist herself. These things are not happening at once, but now, neither are they lost to time. Today, again the longest day, similar stories are unfolding.
The pre-recorded announcements begin to sound like bookmarks in time. “Have a great day,” one traveler says to another as they part. A lively street drummer seems to indicate that such a day is possible; according to Carr’s soundscape, multiple nice days are developing at once. A snippet of “Dance Monkey” bubbles up, a reminder that not everyone pays attention to the sounds around them, but that many bring, or impose, their own. For a short stretch, field recordings dissolve in music, a metaphor for being lost in one’s own thoughts.
At the end, Carr confesses, “It has been the longest of days and I am going home,” the implication being one of weariness; but this is not necessarily so, because today – and only today – is literally the longest of days. While playing Midsummer, London, even the longest of days seems too short. (Richard Allen)
Thu Jun 20 00:01:56 GMT 2024