There’s The kind of language we expect to hear in music—poetic, constructed and, perhaps, sung to an angular melody—and then there’s everything else. All this day-to-day linguistic activity comes across as natural and maybe a bit worthless because of it. Prose lacks preciousness, because it lacks the construction of poetry. But what does our day-to-day prosaic language actually do? And where does it come from? We know it allows us some degree of communication with one another, because we can see the results of that communication. (To paraphrase Wittgenstein: We’re building a house, so I say “stone,” and you hand me a stone.) However, language does much more than that; it points toward the broader context in which it operates, situating both the speaker and the listener in an environment. The speaker might hope that the listener, too, will recognize themselves in that environment and that their shared environment will make communication easier. The speaker feels out the “right language” for the situation, among the multitude of languages they use in any given day, because finding the right language will indicate a shared social context for the conversation. Language is an index of our environment, and of our histories. The artists in this compilation work with a variety of collective and highly personal linguistic environments. They point out the specificity and influence of untamed language and, rather than taming it, destabilize our understanding of what it means for language to be perceived as natural. Manfred Werder, in 20170, collected quotations from literature on a stack of paper found at a flea market. Werder’s language is taken out of context but is always pointing to its context, as Werder indicates in the epigraph above. In this recording, 20170 is realized simultaneously with 20160, in which Werder reads quotations and transcribes them on a pocket typewriter in performance. Casey Anderson’s “ghostses” takes a computational approach to the literary “found text,” transforming W.G. Sebald’s The Rings of Saturn into a multilayered work for objects and speakers. A similar layering and transformation appears in the opera It’s All True, by Object Collection (Kara Feely and Travis Just). In It’s All True, Feely and Just have assembled text entirely from the stage banter of the band Fugazi, while the instrumentalists perform meticulous transcriptions of Fugazi’s interstitial noodling. These works point toward an environmental understanding of language, where culture and experience are refracted through process and extraction. Of course, our environment does not always register as memorable. In their installation piece Please Don’t Go, composers Natacha Diels, Zach Moore and Sam Scranton assembled a collection of forgettable, almost trivial questions and phrases (“Have you been waiting long?”), presented with surreal, twitching ferns in a drop-ceiling waiting room. Like much of Diels’s work, this linguistic heap and waiting room environment is close enough to day-to-day experience to be familiar, while maintaining an unnerving distance. Jack Callahan’s 106 Kerri Chandler Chords takes a similar but minimal approach, presenting a sequence of chords used by house music producer Kerri Chandler with Callahan speaking through a vocoder tuned to each chord in sequence. This work draws connections by virtue of amalgamation and accumulation, removing these chords from their sonic context and inviting the listener to create a logic separated from genre markers [2]. The final tracks, by Carolyn Chen and Sarah Hennies, take the form of essay-performances. Chen and Hennies juxtapose the physical act of vocalizing (whether “passing” as a transgender woman or screaming as a quiet person) with a self-reflection that describes the experience of making sound in a particular context. Chen’s work This Is a Scream, in an excerpt here, takes pleasure in removing lmj29 audio

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索尼克评论：LMJ29 音频曲目列表

有我们期望在音乐中听到的那种语言——诗意的、结构化的，也许是用棱角分明的旋律演唱——然后还有其他的一切。所有这些日常语言活动都显得很自然，因此可能有点毫无价值。散文缺乏价值，因为它缺乏诗意的建构。但是我们日常的平淡语言实际上是做什么的？它来自哪里？我们知道它允许我们彼此进行某种程度的交流，因为我们可以看到这种交流的结果。（套用维特根斯坦的话：我们在盖房子，所以我说“石头”，你递给我一块石头。）然而，语言的作用远不止这些；它指向它运作的更广泛的背景，将说话者和听者置于一个环境中。说话者也可能希望听者，会在那个环境中认出自己，并且他们共享的环境将使交流更容易。说话者在任何一天使用的众多语言中，根据情况找出“正确的语言”，因为找到正确的语言将表明对话的共享社会背景。语言是我们环境和历史的索引。本汇编中的艺术家在各种集体和高度个人化的语言环境中工作。他们指出了未驯服的语言的特殊性和影响，而不是驯服它，而是破坏了我们对语言被视为自然的含义的理解。曼弗雷德·维尔德 (Manfred Werder) 于 20170 年在跳蚤市场找到的一堆纸上收集了文献引用。正如 Werder 在上面的题词中所指出的那样，Werder 的语言脱离了上下文，但始终指向其上下文。在这段录音中，20170 与 20160 同步实现，在表演中，Werder 阅读引文并在袖珍打字机上转录。凯西安德森的“幽灵”对文学“发现的文本”采用了计算方法，将 WG Sebald 的土星环转变为物体和扬声器的多层作品。类似的分层和转换出现在歌剧 It's All True, by Object Collection（Kara Feely 和 Travis Just）中。在 It's All True 中，Feely 和 Just 完全从 Fugazi 乐队的舞台玩笑中收集了文本，而乐器演奏者则对 Fugazi 的间隙面条进行了细致的转录。这些作品指向对语言的环境理解，其中文化和经验通过过程和提取折射。当然，我们的环境并不总是令人难忘。在他们的装置作品 Please Don't Go 中，作曲家 Natacha Diels、Zach Moore 和 Sam Scranton 收集了一系列令人难忘、几乎微不足道的问题和短语（“你等了很久了吗？”），呈现出一滴超现实的、抽搐的蕨类植物-天花板等候室。像 Diels 的大部分作品一样，这种语言堆和候诊室环境足够接近日常经验，可以熟悉，同时保持令人不安的距离。Jack Callahan 的 106 Kerri Chandler Chords 采用了类似但最少的方法，展示由家庭音乐制作人 Kerri Chandler 使用的一系列和弦，Callahan 通过一个按顺序调谐到每个和弦的声码器讲话。这项工作通过合并和积累来建立联系，将这些和弦从它们的声音背景中移除，并邀请听众创建一个与流派标记分离的逻辑 [2]。最后的曲目由 Carolyn Chen 和 Sarah Hennies 创作，采用散文表演的形式。Chen 和 Hennies 将发声的身体行为（无论是作为变性女性“通过”还是作为一个安静的人尖叫）与描述在特定环境中发出声音的经历的自我反思相结合。Chen 的作品 This Is a Scream，在此摘录中，很高兴删除 lmj29 音频 将这些和弦从它们的声音上下文中移除，并邀请听众创建一个与流派标记分离的逻辑 [2]。最后的曲目由 Carolyn Chen 和 Sarah Hennies 创作，采用散文表演的形式。Chen 和 Hennies 将发声的身体行为（无论是作为变性女性“通过”还是作为一个安静的人尖叫）与描述在特定环境中发出声音的经历的自我反思相结合。Chen 的作品 This Is a Scream，在此摘录中，很高兴删除 lmj29 音频 将这些和弦从它们的声音上下文中移除，并邀请听众创建一个与流派标记分离的逻辑 [2]。最后的曲目由 Carolyn Chen 和 Sarah Hennies 创作，采用散文表演的形式。Chen 和 Hennies 将发声的身体行为（无论是作为变性女性“通过”还是作为一个安静的人尖叫）与描述在特定环境中发出声音的经历的自我反思相结合。Chen 的作品 This Is a Scream，在此摘录中，很高兴删除 lmj29 音频 Chen 和 Hennies 将发声的身体行为（无论是作为变性女性“通过”还是作为一个安静的人尖叫）与描述在特定环境中发出声音的经历的自我反思相结合。Chen 的作品 This Is a Scream，在此摘录中，很高兴删除 lmj29 音频 Chen 和 Hennies 将发声的身体行为（无论是作为变性女性“通过”还是作为一个安静的人尖叫）与描述在特定环境中发出声音的经历的自我反思相结合。Chen 的作品 This Is a Scream，在此摘录中，很高兴删除 lmj29 音频