Listening Instruction: Close your eyes for a moment and let the sounds around you, recorded and external, mingle together in consciousness. Observe the way your mind categorises them - hum/an/imal or machine, 'natural' or 'unnatural' - and then let those categories drop. Consider history, 'see through' (or 'hear through') the colonised landscape, to the extent that you can. Feel the life energy droning, forming and reforming here.
Artist Statement: As a Kombumerri man I usually work with field recordings from my own Country, the so-called Gold Coast. Working (with permission from Gadigal and Wangal Owners) in a location like O'Dea Park - very familiar to me, but not my Country or my ancestral history to speak to - brought a twin sense of ease/unease which hums beneath the surface of the work. This mood mirrors what the park meant to me over lockdown periods where a green space full of joyful life (dogs especially) brought both a sense of refreshment but also a feeling that all places of congregation, even when rules were strictly adhered to, now carried an underlying disquiet. Something I wasn't aware of while composing was that in its colonial history the reserve was previously a velodrome - yet I can hear the thrum of the cycle wheels in the thread of the drones I've created. All sounds used in the piece were recorded at O'Dea Reserve, with gratitude to Traditional Owners.