Just before the rain

Brian Eno has said: “my feeling is that making art can be more usefully thought of as being like gardening: you plant a few seeds and then start watching what happens between them, how they come to life and how they interact.” I have sought to translate into sound the atmosphere that I imagine arises from spontaneous germination in an untended garden.

Inspired by this haiku I wrote for The Naviar Records Haiku Music Challenge (www.naviarrecords.com - @naviar-records) Among bare branches the wind climbs upward a cat yawns Tra rami spogli il vento s'inerpica sbadiglia un gatto (thanks to Marco for the translation from Italian to English) Picture by Tanvir Himel

This track is based on reworked trumpet solo recordings. Through manipulation, layering and synthesis, the original material is transformed into a new soundscape where the instrument's identity dissolves and reassembles into unexpected forms,.

Inspired by the following haiku written by Anne Carpenter. She is part of the Stay Cool project - a collaboration between #NaviarRecords and Red Earth Ecology - that aims to promote techniques for Japanese-inspired prose and foster international collaboration. Darkness cocoons, Red and yellow slowly creep. Silence disappears. Picture by Jason Richardson

Inspired by this haiku I wrote for The Naviar Records Haiku Music Challenge (www.naviarrecords.com - https://soundcloud.com/naviar-records) slowly gliding a snail in the grass follows the clouds (thanks to Marco for the translation from Italian to English) Picture by Wolfgang Hasselmann

Inspired by the following haiku written by Takahama Kyoshi, a Japanese poet active during the Shōwa period of Japan. A single paulownia leaf sunlit as it falls to the ground. @naviar-records Picture by Gayatri Malhotra.

Imagining a microphone placed inside a mole’s tunnel, the piece gathers and transforms barely perceptible underground sounds. A listening practice directed toward what usually remains beneath the surface.

Under a vague and dim light by El Wud

There are moments when sounds fall like rain from the clouds of memory. They appear unexpectedly, without a clear origin, as if they had been waiting somewhere between what has been heard and what has been forgotten. This piece explores that fragile space between memory and listening, where sounds are not simply reproduced but recalled, transformed, and reimagined. Electronic textures emerge, dissolve, overlap, and return in altered forms, creating a soundscape in which past and present become difficult to distinguish. The music does not follow a predetermined narrative. Instead, it unfolds as a process of listening and discovery, allowing sounds to suggest their own connections and trajectories. What remains is not a fixed musical object, but a shifting landscape of traces, echoes, fragments, and unexpected encounters. Perhaps the sounds are not coming from memory at all. Perhaps memory is being created by the act of listening.

The idea for this track was born from listening to a piano experiment by Meccaniche del Suono (https://soundcloud.com/meccaniche-del-suono/2-di-3-hole-third-disquiet0698). The sound of the piano (Meccaniche del Suono) made me imagine that moment of suspension in the air just before the rain. I thank the author (@meccaniche-del-suono) for the permission to rework and publish the track. I invite you to visit his very interesting Soundcloud page.