ENJOY THE SNARE SOUND DOWNLOAD AND THE FURTHER CONTENT. BLESSINGS.
SNARE | 2023 | Joseph Fowler & Tayler Fisher
SNARE SOUND
Tracklist:
1. Joseph Fowler & Tayler Fisher - SINGING SANDS (Throughout)
2. El Mahdy Jr. - Lost Bridge (Killing Sound Version)
3. Ossia - Devil's Dance
4. Holy Tongue - Erev
5. Tapes Meets The Drums Of Wareika Hill Sounds - Datura Mystic Dub
6. Digital Mystikz - Awake
7. Untold - Strange Dreams
8. Gantz - Sleepless Elite
9. Sam Binga & Welfare - Trá Na Feadóige
10. FIS - Frost Pocket
11. Joseph Fowler & Tayler Fisher - SINGING SANDS
12. Prince Far I & The Arabs - Long Life
13. Rootsman Meets Muslimgauze - Amahar
14. Systemwide - Ripe Up
15. Raime - The Walker In Blast and Bottle
16. Killing Sound - Water Boxing
17. DJ Oa$is - Black $Tar Liner XXX Version
18. Acre - Better Strangers
19. Wes Brooks - Lay Down Your Arms (Version)
1:12:29
Free Download
'SNARE SOUND is a recorded live vinyl mix of selected tracks and is introduced by SINGING SANDS, a sound collage made by the artists. The collage features dubbed recordings of desert phenomenon and voices discussing it. Featuring Raime, Holy Tongue, Prince Far I & The Arabs, Ossia, many more & dub fx throughout!
SNARE SOUND is released simultaneously with the launch of SNARE, a series of 16 images bound together in a zine format. SNARE is a journey through assembled diary-like drawings, travel photographs, studio paintings, and scans. Collected objects and recreations of existing artworks assume the roles of sacred totems and wellsprings of vitality. SNARE is an introspection into the realm of uneasy experiences and melancholy whilst exploring the capacity of world-building as a catalyst for catharsis.'
‘According to Marco Polo, and corroborated by Chinese sources, the sands around the desert oasis of Luobuzhuang was especially perilous, due to its disorienting landscape and a natural phenomenon that causes eerie sounds to emanate from the desert. Such an environment, especially at night, was known to have caused people to become separated from their traveling companions, a situation which could easily prove fatal. Marco Polo, in a book about his travels, described the local folklore about that noisy desert region, writing, “Many people have become lost and have died in this way. And I can tell you, moreover, that men hear these spirit voices even during the daytime, and it often sounds as if they are accompanied by the strains of many musical instruments, especially drums, and the clash of arms” (Marco Polo, The Travels, Book 2). Merchants and their guides, however, were not willing to let the ghostly sands be victorious. Before long, the travelers developed procedures to combat the disorienting influence of the desert.’
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OUTTAKES AND ACCIDENTS:
‘A SNARE Story:
The sun beat down mercilessly upon us, as we trudged through the arid desert wasteland. Our feet sinking into the hot, dry sand with each step, each breath we took feeling like we were inhaling the very essence of the unforgiving terrain. We were lost, lost in ourselves, lost in our own journey.
As we marched, we stumbled across peculiar objects, obscure totems that seemed to resonate with us on a deep, almost primal level. The first we came across was a snare, a crude trap fashioned to ensnare prey. We were not hunters, but the snare called out to us, tempting us with the promise of power. We carried it with us, feeling its weight and the potential for control it held.
Our journey through the barren landscape was one of introspection, a search for meaning in a world that had lost all semblance of sanity. And so, as we walked, we created. Our art, born of the totems we had discovered, became a reflection of our journey. Each object, the snare, a small statue of a bird, a piece of driftwood, and a smooth stone, became a part of our art, a reminder of our struggle.
Days turned to weeks, and our quest carried us ever deeper into the wilderness. We encountered creatures of an unearthly nature, their bizarre and otherworldly forms watching us with eyes that glowed like embers. But we were not afraid. With the totems we had collected, we felt invincible, unstoppable.
Finally, we reached the end of our journey. The landscape before us was stark, almost surreal. The swirling sand and rock seemed to stretch out for eternity, as if it was a living, breathing entity. This was our moment, the culmination of all we had worked for.
With the snare in one hand and our art supplies in the other, we began to create. We drew the landscape, capturing the harsh beauty in vivid, intricate detail. We painted the creatures we had encountered, their twisted forms and glowing eyes.
As we worked, we could feel the power of the totems coursing through us, as if they were feeding our very souls. The snare became a symbol of our determination, the bird a reminder of the freedom we craved. The driftwood and stone were symbols of the past and the future, the journey we had taken and the one that lay ahead.
When we finished, we gazed out upon the barren wasteland, our art a testament to our journey. But as we walked back across the barren landscape, we felt an ominous sense of unease creeping into our minds. We had become too powerful, too consumed by the totems of power we had collected. The snare had become a symbol of our greed, the bird a reminder of our isolation. The driftwood and stone were symbols of the past and the future, but we had lost sight of the present.
As the darkness descended upon us, we knew that we had lost ourselves along the way. We had become ensnared in our own quest for power, trapped by the very totems we had collected. And as we stood in the desert, alone and lost, we realized that the journey was far from over. We were lost, lost in ourselves, lost in our own creation.’
- Written by A.I, 2023
The sun beat down mercilessly upon us, as we trudged through the arid desert wasteland. Our feet sinking into the hot, dry sand with each step, each breath we took feeling like we were inhaling the very essence of the unforgiving terrain. We were lost, lost in ourselves, lost in our own journey.
As we marched, we stumbled across peculiar objects, obscure totems that seemed to resonate with us on a deep, almost primal level. The first we came across was a snare, a crude trap fashioned to ensnare prey. We were not hunters, but the snare called out to us, tempting us with the promise of power. We carried it with us, feeling its weight and the potential for control it held.
Our journey through the barren landscape was one of introspection, a search for meaning in a world that had lost all semblance of sanity. And so, as we walked, we created. Our art, born of the totems we had discovered, became a reflection of our journey. Each object, the snare, a small statue of a bird, a piece of driftwood, and a smooth stone, became a part of our art, a reminder of our struggle.
Days turned to weeks, and our quest carried us ever deeper into the wilderness. We encountered creatures of an unearthly nature, their bizarre and otherworldly forms watching us with eyes that glowed like embers. But we were not afraid. With the totems we had collected, we felt invincible, unstoppable.
Finally, we reached the end of our journey. The landscape before us was stark, almost surreal. The swirling sand and rock seemed to stretch out for eternity, as if it was a living, breathing entity. This was our moment, the culmination of all we had worked for.
With the snare in one hand and our art supplies in the other, we began to create. We drew the landscape, capturing the harsh beauty in vivid, intricate detail. We painted the creatures we had encountered, their twisted forms and glowing eyes.
As we worked, we could feel the power of the totems coursing through us, as if they were feeding our very souls. The snare became a symbol of our determination, the bird a reminder of the freedom we craved. The driftwood and stone were symbols of the past and the future, the journey we had taken and the one that lay ahead.
When we finished, we gazed out upon the barren wasteland, our art a testament to our journey. But as we walked back across the barren landscape, we felt an ominous sense of unease creeping into our minds. We had become too powerful, too consumed by the totems of power we had collected. The snare had become a symbol of our greed, the bird a reminder of our isolation. The driftwood and stone were symbols of the past and the future, but we had lost sight of the present.
As the darkness descended upon us, we knew that we had lost ourselves along the way. We had become ensnared in our own quest for power, trapped by the very totems we had collected. And as we stood in the desert, alone and lost, we realized that the journey was far from over. We were lost, lost in ourselves, lost in our own creation.’
- Written by A.I, 2023