While some music rises up, fully formed, and merely awaits capturing, many Luciftias pieces lay dormant for great lengths of time before being completed. "A Flash of Red" began life as an unnamed, roughly recorded idea in March 2011. It wasn't until a full two years later that it received additional modification to morph into what is is now.
"A Flash of Red" could be the splash of gore upon the kitchen tiling. It might be the bird that strikes your windshield as you careen down the highway. It may also be the bloody hand print on the door that you glimpse before entering a shadowed realm of nightmares from which you will never awaken.
I was in the death struggle with self: God and Satan fought for my soul those three long hours. God conquered — now I have only one doubt left — which of the twain was God?
- Aleister Crowley, Aceldama : A Place To Bury Strangers In (1898)
One of my treasured possessions as a child was a portable shortwave radio. For such a small thing it seemed quite capable of picking up stations all over the globe. I spent countless hours slowly turning the dials from one station to another, and tuning into the multitude of voices and musics of the world.
Like any shortwave enthusiast, I soon discovered and was enchanted by those odd transmissions of recorded voices uttering sequences of numbers, often alternating with little melodies or series of tones. I learned that these stations had something to do with international espionage, which lent a certain spooky glamour to them.
Many were the nights I'd bring my radio to bed with me and seek out a numbers station, then let these mysterious sounds lull me to sleep. To me, they were just enchanting patterns, like music, and I did not care what they meant or for whom they were intended.
Similarly, I enjoyed the sounds of the spaces between stations, or the highly distorted signals carried from a great distance. I found these crackles, oscillations and muffled communications quite fascinating and pleasant.
This piece, nearly an hour long, is a generative work using recordings from shortwave radio, including numbers stations, as source material. The goal was to create something abstract and soothing, an interpretation of and tribute to the sounds I long ago fell asleep to. My memories of those experiences are certainly the deepest roots of my aesthetic as a sound artist.
As the world rapidly becomes a civilization of machines, the masters of machines will increasingly be the ones in control of the world.
- John Howard Dellinger
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