My latest guitar is named Fabien, after the pilot in Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s “Night Flight.” It has quickly become my fav instrument. I read him the passage below from the book last night and woke up to this track in my DAW. Seems Fabien dreamed me reading to him in French.
A Dick Dale-esque fast-picked drone over a sample of “the world’s largest wind tunnel” simulates propellers and everything’s capped off with some more samples of 1980s weather satellite telemetry. All samples are from a Bainbridge sound effects disc circa 1989. The beats are garage band.
“Night Flight” tells the story of a mail pilot lost over Patagonia and the ways tragedy and the relentless drone of modern life intersect and collide on the ground. In this track, one of my favorite novels meets my favorite guitar.
Fabien is a Peekamoose Custom M2 (http://peekamoose.com). He’s pictured being held by his luthier, Paul Schwartz, in the shop where he was forged.
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NARRATION
“Fabien, quel est votre position?”
Fabien, what’s your location?
….
Sans avoir à lutter, il serrait les mains sur les commandes. Quelque chose se préparait qu’il ne comprenait pas. Il bandait ses muscles, telle une bête qui va sauter, mais il ne voyait rien qui ne fût calme. Oui, calme, mais chargé d’un étrange pouvoir. Puis tout s’est aiguisé. Ces arêtes, ces pics, tout devenait aigu : on les sentait pénétrer, comme des étraves, le vent dur. Et puis il lui sembla qu’elles viraient et dérivaient autour de lui, à la façon de navires géants qui s’installent pour le combat. Et puis il y eut, mêlée à l’air, une poussière : elle montait, flottant doucement, comme un voile, le long des neiges. Alors, pour chercher une issue en cas de retraite nécessaire, il se retourna et trembla : toute la Cordillère, en arrière, semblait fermenter.
“Je suis perdu.”
Instinctively he tightened his grasp on the controls. Something he did not understand was on its way and he tautened his muscles, like a beast about to spring. Yet, as far as the eye could see, all was at peace. Peaceful, yes, but tense with dark potency. Suddenly all grew sharp; peaks and ridges seemed keen-edged prows cutting athwart heavy head wind. Veering around him, they deployed like dreadnoughts taking their positions in a battle-line. Dusk began to mingle with the air, rising and hovering, a veil above the snow. Looking back to see if retreat might still be feasible, he shuddered; all the Cordillera behind him was in seething ferment.
“I’m lost.”
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More on this 181st Disquiet Junto project (“Imagine your favorite instrument is dreaming while it sleeps — what does it sound like?”) at:
http://disquiet.com/2015/06/18/disquiet0181-instrumentaldream/
More on the Disquiet Junto at:
http://disquiet.com/junto/
Join the Disquiet Junto at:
http://soundcloud.com/groups/disquiet-junto/
Disquiet Junto general discussion takes place at:
http://disquiet.com/forums/
