Eric Hall

Dear Eric,

A few weeks back, on a Saturday morning in late May, I spent about an hour in the kitchen, before I found your profile on Spotify. During that time, I browsed a significant number of profiles on the streaming service, listening to a piece or two, then skipping to a new profile, to a new piece. I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for. A way to describe it, would be to say that I was looking for the best fitting music for the day. It’s never easy to put it in words because regular categories often related to emotions “uplifting,” “retrospective,” etc., don’t work for me. More often than not, I am looking for textures.

My usual strategy, when I find myself in a similar situation, is to browse the “Fans also like” section on Spotify. In short, my search went from several Raster-Noton techno buffs to Alarm Will Sound and eventually to your profile. I spent the whole day doing home chores and listening to your music. At some point in the afternoon, I looked you up online and found your website along with your Vimeo account, where I watched several of your live performances. It was one of the best days of my summer so far. I basked in your music.

I am looking at the notes I scribbled on a yellow legal pad that day. The last thing at the bottom of the page is a quote that says “Amplify the sonic minutiae.” (I didn’t do a good job keeping the source of the quote.) That’s a perfect description of your music as you seem to work exclusively with found sounds, or the sounds generated by everyday objects—even carrots. I also like to think of each one of your improvisations as sonic rabbit holes. The deeper I go, the more I get glimpses of ample soundscapes, full of layered sound textures that reverberate into my brain tickling uncharted territories.

I really love your flavor of concrete music, and I wish to have a chance to listen to it one day live.