our kitchen sink has been making some strange sounds recently. well, maybe the sounds themselves are not so strange [just yer average plughole sounds, really], but the “compositional structure” has been quite unusual and forceful. running even the tiniest amount of water down the plughole has been resulting in the type of music you hear here.

coincidentally, as i was making this recording, the first snow of christmas began to fall outside.

not by coincidence, a couple of hours later, the kitchen floor was flooded with water.

i am not a plumber [as you can probably tell]. if i was, i’m sure i would hear these sounds very differently.

doing a late shop at our local late shop, 9.45pm.

running the gauntlet of scary shopkeepers, who become very visibly annoyed if anyone dares to enter their shop 15 minutes before official closing time—10pm. this village has many quaint quirks.

i felt so intimidated i dropped my change on the floor.

for today’s entry, here’s four tracks, all taken from one long recording made while en route from frizinghall railway station to bradford interchange, via forster square station and bradford city centre. i found the journey so interesting i couldn’t bear to have just one short excerpt, so here’s the highlights. four for the price of one. so to speak.

the GNER trains which run between london kings cross and bradford forster square are very posh, almost silent and extremely long. and always virtually empty on the last leg of the journey, from leeds to bradford. luxury.

piece hall yard—the narrow street running from kirkgate down to the wool exchange. the lovely hushed acoustics were spiced up somewhat by someone’s unfortunate mishap.

passing st george’s hall [bradford’s concert hall], & noticing signs of life, i thought i’d go in and see what was happening. the entrance was full of shakin’ stevens fans, waiting for old shakey to finish his soundcheck. i hadn’t realised the great man was gracing our city with his presence. shakin’ stevens fans are a surprising bunch.

bradford interchange.

people say the strangest things sometimes.

doing some composition [applying a probability system, to be precise], using pencil-and-paper technology, at 4am, with a strong wind blowing outside.

a mild midwinter afternoon in our garden at the top of this steep hill.

as usual, the starlings on the roof are the stars of the show.

bradford interchange bus concourse, 8.45pm.

a gang of unruly 9 year olds terrorising travellers and security staff.