Venturing into the wilderness of South-East London with Jose Macabre just last week, I embarked on my first Soundwalk. Blindfolded, we walked around a variety of environments with our focus on the sounds rather than the visuals. I found myself drifting off, a peaceful calmness descended on me, and I really did pay attention to the sounds; I heard sounds whose sources were very much apparent, such as birds or talking, or dogs, or the sound of wind in the trees. But there were other, more alien sounds. Melodic, pitched sounds, certain distant impacts and drones were audible and I realised that these are a product of the urban environment but are so often blocked out by us – we hear, but we do not listen.
My ears displayed a remarkable ability to ‘zoom in’ on sounds to pinpoint their location and I often found myself turning my head towards the source of sounds, straining to hear them clearer. This entire venture made clear to me that the sensory overload we experience here in the city has a distinct effect on us – we hear, but we do not listen.
Knowing that soon I’d have my hands on a field recorder, I started to take note of interesting snippets of audio I heard and I especially focused on the stereo field. I thought to myself about how sounds are inherently stereo to us, and that creating immersion in my upcoming recordings relied on precise mic placement – sounds don’t have to be wide, but being dynamically stereo makes all of the difference in my eyes (or ears!). We hear so much in stereo that we don’t quite realise how innate it is; it’s a fundamental part of being human, and that’s just taken for granted. We hear, but we do not listen.
